Scott

I jumped as I heard the door shut behind me. An angry feeling set in.

"Bob, please . . . go away," I begged my brother, as this was the umpteenth time he'd come in with useless attempts to cheer me. I kept my face covered as Bob walked up and sat on the bed beside me. I felt hot tears in the corner of my eyes. Damn. I need to work on keeping those things in.

But then, Bob pulled me into his arms, and I looked up into not Bob's face - but - Taylor's. His kind eyes danced with both sadness and happiness at the same time. I don't know how that was possible, but it was; with Taylor, I shouldn't have had to question impossible things. Why he was suddenly there and why we had suddenly been thrust together was beyond my comprehension - but I was so happy he was there, and that we were together (as in, uh, the same room?) again. I stared into his face idiotically, speechless and not exactly sure what to do. But Tay, who was letting off an aura of serenity, knew what to do.

I let him pull me to him, and I buried my face in his neck, breathing in the smell of him, refamiliarizing myself; I couldn't get enough of his smell. I found myself clinging to his waist. "Tay . . . Taylor," I whispered, frantically latching onto him. He just tightly held me to him (as if he needed to do that).

"I - had no idea you could play like that," he was telling me. I reached up and grasped a handful of his hair and breathed. I was just - oh God, he was really there. It was over. No more fighting. He was back. I had him back with me. Tay didn't seem to care about my obsessive sniffing, and just cuddled me. Every ounce of sadness and tension seemed to rise from my body, evaporating in the sun of him. Taylor would cuddle me. That was all I needed from him. Just unquestioned acceptance and cuddling. He was continuing the same sentence. "I didn't really realize the full extent of your talent . . . it was amazing."

"I didn't even finish the song," I murmured. "I couldn't. Everything reminded me of you. Everything just came back down to you, everything seemed tailored to fit. Even the Beach Boys. I just -" I stopped as I realized I probably sounded like a raving lunatic to Taylor, talking about all this crap that would make absolutely no sense to anybody but me. I was probably too emotional to piece together actual sentences, that made sense. I simply shook my head and vowed to myself that Taylor would never wrench himself out of my arms again. It seemed like the apologetic speech I'd concocted had simply been tossed out the window and was wafting to its untimely death. Were apologies needed? Did he even want to be reminded of our disagreements? I had no real idea.

"Scott?" Tay questioned me. I pulled away a bit and looked at him, not knowing what to expect. Taylor looked as if he'd suddenly forgotten how to speak, intimidated by the wedge stuck between us. He shook his head. "I - don't know. Do you want to talk?"

I nodded. "Will you even talk to me? I was such a prick to you."

"It's okay," he replied, sounding sincere. "I'm just sorry any of this had to happen - not - you, the picture thing." He fidgeted with the silver watch on his wrist. "Maybe I was too naive getting into this right now. Especially something like this. I don't think I should've gotten you into this mess-"

I snatched his hand and tangled my fingers with his desperately. "Oh, God . . . oh, God, Taylor, I'm - so sorry. Please don't say things like that. I'm so sorry for everything I said to you - I didn't mean any of it. Not one word, not one ounce. I'm perfectly happy with the way we are and I'm not ashamed, and I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings by shoving you away from me, but I was just angry. I'm not angry anymore. I'm sorry." "I know. I know. It's okay. It's forgotten. Let's just leave it alone."

"No," I protested. "Tay, I really want to apologize. Some of the things I said -"

"I promise you, you don't need to say you're sorry!" Taylor had to soften the edge on his voice. "I mean, I don't want to start another argument. I know we have our differences, even if we're a lot alike, but - I - think we should just wipe the slate clean."

"What do you mean? Like how?" I asked him hesitantly, afraid of what he meant.

"Like," he licked his lips, "maybe . . . maybe we should just be friends."

Taylor

Scott pulled away from me, an aghast look streaking across his face. His huge hazel eyes searched mine for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration. "What?"

"Let me ex-" I began.

"No, wait! Don't. Stop," Scott interrupted, standing up. "What are you saying? That we can just cancel out everything between us and pretend like it never happened or something?"

"No," I told him firmly, catching his hands and holding them, and pulling him back down beside me. "I couldn't do that if I wanted to. I could never. Especially now that I think we need to stick together more than ever. I mean . . ." I sat back and sighed. Scott sat back with me and waited patiently. I took a deep breath. "Things happened so fast between us, Scott . . ." I began, spilling out my voice in tumbles of syllables. "I don't know if that was . . . the best. I'm glad I found you, and you don't understand how deeply I care for you, but I just don't know if we can be together."

"Why not?" whispered Scott. I sighed, feeling like crying.

"'Cause . . . if you're looking for sex then I'm not the person you want." My voice shook.

"Taylor, I already told you I didn't mean it," he blurted. "Please believe me. . . . P-please. I don't know what to say to convince you."

I looked to the side. "I - never mind. The absolute truth is, I want to be with you regardless of our reason to be with me," I admitted, slightly embarrassed. "It's not like I dislike the physical aspect of our relationship. But maybe, if we're going to try to pick back up, we should - I don't know. Tone it down or something. I just don't know . . ."

I was afraid of maybe pinpointing a moment of heartbreak on Scott's face, but his features remained steady. "I can do that. That's fine. I don't want to do it if you don't want to."

"Well, I can't truthfully say I don't want to . . . but it's probably for the best," I observed softly. "We could only keep it up so long before getting caught. Like, really caught. It's dangerous enough that we have the photos, and that someone appears to know, or thinks she or he knows."

Scott tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling with shimmering eyes. "The entire situation is dangerous when you really think about it." I nodded. He blinked away any of his revealed emotions. "I still really want to be with you, Tay."

Slowly, I put my arm around his middle, not replying. Did Scott really know what he wanted? I was a little afraid of the simmering emotions he had resting so tensely just beneath his calm demeanor. Perhaps they were confusing him. I forced such thoughts from my mind. God, I was confused, too. The future just seemed so bleak. I wondered why I was letting myself fall back into these sins of the flesh when I knew that end the end, nothing would break my heart more than leaving Scott and possibly not seeing him again after this. The time we had left to repair our relationship was brief and busy. It hurt even to think about how I had such a strong love for him, and how unsure I was of his feelings for me. Sitting there, I realized . . . I just didn't know what to do. At all. I didn't know how to handle any of this. My usual instincts were lost in a garble of pain, love, lust, and even a tinge of fear, for the future, for all things unknown and unseen by the human heart.

When Scott lifted his head and touched my cheek with a gentle hand, all I could do was look at him with empty eyes. "Tay, please . . ." His eyes danced over my face. "Let me kiss you. Just once."

I hesitated, knowing the kiss would make me or break me, knowing that to me it would personally symbolize forgiveness and reassurance, which I just didn't know if I was ready for. Why was it that I wore my heart so far down on my sleeve when Scott was around? I found myself falling to my knees to pay respect to his request, and to pay homage to my own needs, too. I let him raise my chin with that skilled hand, and press his lips on mine. It will all be okay, Scott, I thought distantly. I will make it all okay again.

Scott parted from me, a star gleaming somewhere off in the clouds in his eyes. "Taylor, it doesn't matter what we do and who we are, as long as we're together."