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It was finally the last interview of the day, and Aaron Z couldn’t be happier. They had been answering the same shallow questions all day: What’s their ideal girl? Would you ever date a fan? What do you prefer, boobs or butts? It was exhausting trying to come up with new answers.
To be fair though, it had been mostly Robaire and Jesse answering the questions for the last few interviews. Tae Young had started yawning pretty frequently two interviews ago and Aaron T was clearly struggling to focus sitting in the same bare-walled room so long (which Z couldn’t blame him for, one can only talk about their favourite tour food so many times) the boys picking up on his distress, Jesse answering the odd question directed towards him. Even Z himself had been quieter than usual the last few interviews, his social battery running low.
“One more and then we're done for the day…” Robaire says as the second last interviewer leaves the room. The boys let out a groan, Z falling back against the very fancy and very uncomfortable couch.
The door opens and a woman walks in with way too much pep in her step for 8 pm on a Thursday. She takes her seat on the barstool opposite the boys and crosses her legs, her stiletto heel hooked on the metal footrest. Z sits up a bit straighter. He knows what type of interviewer she is. The ‘overly-invasive-will-exploit-anything-and-everything-you-give-them’ type of interviewer.
Z stares at her blinding white teeth as the crew start rolling. She introduces herself and the boys to the camera and right as she is about to ask her first question, Z feels her eyes on him.
“Oh Z! Your collar is all over the place! Let me fix that for you.” Before he can clue into what's happening, the interviewer leans towards him and flips the popped collar of his jacket down. It must have flipped up when he leaned back against the couch. But Z’s not concerned about his jacket anymore.
“There, all better,” she smiles, brushing non-existent dirt off his shoulder. She then sits back and continues the interview. She asks Robaire a question, but Z doesn’t hear. All he can hear is the blood rushing to his ears as his muscles tense up. He spends the rest of the interview with his hands tightly clasped in his lap, trying to keep up his stoic facade for the camera.
The interview finally ends, the woman thanking them and walking out of the studio. The boys get up and stretch their cramped muscles, aside from Z who stays seated on the uncomfortable couch.
“Can we go get some food? I’m starving,” says Tae Young, patting his stomach.
“How ‘bout Salvatore’s? I could go for some fancy ass pizza right now.” T says, rhythmically scuffing his shoes into the floor.
“Sounds great to me,” Robaire says as they collect their things and head out the door.
-
The boys exit out of the stage door at the studio, when a group of teenage girls run up to them screaming their names.
“Oh my god, 4*town!!! We’re your biggest fans! Can you sign these for us!!” the tallest of the group says.
“Haha, yeah, of course, we can sign these for you!” Robaire says with his signature charm, pulling a marker out of his pocket.
The girls crowd around them as they sign their posters, definitely too close for Z’s comfort right now. One of them pulls out a camera, asking for a photo, which of course they accept.
One of the girls grabs the camera and takes a few steps back, holding a thumbs up in front of the camera once they're all in the frame. The girl standing next to Z wraps her arm around his waist, and his skin prickles under her touch. He holds back a grimace as the picture is taken, and the girl thankfully lets go of him to check out the picture.
They let out an ear-piercing squeal, thanking the boys, and run off. Z huffs out a breath of hot air, and they head over to Jesse’s car.
“Actually, I think I’m just gonna head back home,” he says, gesturing over his shoulder.
“But dude, you never pass up Salvatore’s!” Aaron T says, confusion clear on his face.
Z half-heartedly shrugs. “Pretty tired.”
“At least let us drive you home first, it's a long walk when you're tired,” says Robaire, a hint of concern in his voice.
“It’s fine, man. I don’t want to ruin your night out,” Z says, pulling his jacket sleeves down over his arms.
“You won’t ruin our night,” says Jesse, unlocking the car and opening the door. “What would ruin our night is you getting kidnapped and sold to a bunch of crazy fans. Get in.”
Z doesn’t argue anymore, knowing they won't give in. The car ride back to their apartment is quiet, he can hear Jesse tapping his ring on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the songs playing from the soft radio. He looks out the window the whole time, watching the city fly past in a blur. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Robaire stealing concerned glances at him from the passenger seat.
-
They pull up outside of their apartment building, and Z gets out of the car.
“Call if you need anything,” Tae Young calls out the window.
Z nods at him, and the car pulls away as he opens the door to the lobby.
He heads up the stairs, not wanting to get stuck in the elevator with someone and be forced into awkward small talk. He thought he was clear of unwanted social interaction when he got to his apartment door and went to pull out his keys, until he hears a door to his right open.
“Hey, handsome! Long time no see!”
Z’s blood runs cold when he hears the sickeningly sweet voice of his neighbour, Charlotte, calling to him. He fumbles his keys trying to find the right one, dropping them on the floor.
“Oh dear, let me help you with that…” Charlotte says in a low, flirtatious voice. She bends down at the waist, grabs his keys, and slowly straightens back up, flipping her bleach blonde hair over her shoulder. She puts the keys back into Z’s hands, but instead of pulling her hand away, she brushes it over his wrist and settles on his forearm.
“Uh, thanks. Charlotte.” he says, heart pounding in his ears. He starts to panic when she begins running her hand up and down his arm slowly. He desperately sorts through his keys, jamming the correct one into the keyhole when he finds it.
“Oh, any time, Aaron!” Z swings the door open and steps out of her grasp, into the doorway.
“The boys aren’t home? I could come keep you company… Wouldn't want you getting lonely,” She steps forward and Z closes the door until just his head and shoulders peek out, the rest of his body protected by the door.
“No, that’s alright, Charlotte. The place is a mess and the boys will be back soon. Maybe another time.” He closes the door and locks it, taking a step back and watching it for a minute.
When nothing happens and the door stays locked, he lets out a shaky breath and carefully places his keys on the counter. He looks down at his arm where his neighbour's hand had been, and he can feel it burn where it trailed across his skin. He rubs at his arm, frantically trying to rid himself of the unwelcome sensation Charlotte’s touch had left there.
‘Shower.’ Z thinks to himself. ‘A shower will get rid of it.’
He heads to the bathroom, throwing his jacket over the back of the couch on his way and locking the door behind him. He turns the shower on until it begins to steam, quickly undressing as the mirror fogs up.
Z steps into the shower, tensing as his skin comes into contact with the hot stream of water. He lets the heat run over him for a few moments, before reaching out and turning up the temperature. The water is just shy of unbearably hot and Z reaches for his bar of soap.
He begins scrubbing forcefully, starting with his shoulder where the interviewer had brushed his jacket, then moving to his waist where the fan had wrapped her arm around him, and finally to his arms where Charlotte had been feeling him up in the hallway.
He scrubs at his flesh until it’s red and raw and the water starts to cool off.
Z shuts off the water and steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. His body is buzzing, but he can’t tell if it’s from the scrubbing and burning water, or the lingering touches under his skin.
He steps out of the bathroom and walks across the hallway into his room, once again shutting and locking the door behind him.
Heading over to his dresser to grab some clothes to change into, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror leaning against the wall. His skin is splotchy and red along his arms and torso, almost painful-looking, even with the droplets of water still pooling on his shoulders.
He frowns at his reflection, grabbing a pair of boxers, a hoodie, and sweatpants, instead of the usual gym shorts and t-shirts he wears at home.
He gets dressed, extra careful around the tender skin on his torso, looking back in the mirror when he’s done and taking in his reflection. There's significantly less of his skin showing than usual, his long arms and legs covered by his hoodie and sweatpants, yet he still feels overly exposed. He gingerly pulls his hood up over his head, which eases the feeling a little bit, then grabs a pair of socks from his drawer, pulling them on and tucking them under the cuff of his pants.
Z takes a look at his reflection once more. His skin is still buzzing, but he’s content enough with the coverage of his skin. Turning around, he grabs the book he's currently reading off his nightstand and heads out to the living room.
The rest of the boys still haven’t returned, so he curls into the corner of the couch and opens his book.
He reads for a while, he’s unsure exactly how long, but his eyes start to feel heavy. Z powers through it though, forcing himself to stay awake until he can’t fight the exhaustion anymore, his eyes falling shut.
-
It’s 10:30 when the boys finally get back to their apartment. Robaire unlocks the door and they step in, laughing at some joke T had made. They all go quiet though when they see Z’s sleeping form on the couch, bundled up with his head laid against the armrest and book forgotten against his leg.
The boys share a look when they see Z’s unusual choice of clothing; T checks the thermostat, but the temperature is no different than usual.
Tae walks over to Z, softly speaking to him.
“Hey, Z, you gotta get up. You'll be super sore tomorrow if you sleep here.”
When he doesn't move, Tae speaks a little louder, laying his hand on his shoulder.
“Z? Get up-” He’s cut off when the other jolts awake, forcefully pulling away from Tae and grasping at his shoulder where his hand had just been.
Tae lets out a yelp and backs up into Jesse, the older catching his fall and steadying him.
“Dude, are you good? You look stressed as hell.” T says. Z’s eyes are wide, his breathing shallow and quick, and he’s holding his shoulder in what the others can only assume is pain. “What’d you do to your shoulder?”
Robaire walks around the couch and sits next to Z.
“Did you pull something? Take off your sweater, let me see,” he asks, reaching out to move Z’s hand from his shoulder.
A new wave of panic surges through Z and he jumps back from Robaire, gasping out a strangled “No!” right before the other touches him.
Robaire retracts his hand, face etched with confusion and fear.
“Z, if you’re hurt that bad we should really take you to the hospital,” he says with the manufactured calm voice he uses when he’s panicking. Z glances at Jesse reaching for his keys and grabs a fistful of fabric at his shoulder where his hand is.
“I’m- I’m not hurt.” he huffs out, looking down at the cushions. His breathing has slowed down, but he can still feel his heart pounding sharply in his chest.
“Then what’s wrong?” Robaire asks. “Did something happen?” he cautiously adds on.
Z can see the tension in the other’s muscles, physically restraining himself from reaching out and comforting him.
“It’s- uh… um,” Z swallows thickly, struggling to find the right words.
“Take your time, Z.” Tae Young says gently, taking a seat on the coffee table in front of them. Z takes a shaky deep breath as T sits on the floor and Jesse sits against the armrest of the couch.
“I just- feel so dirty. And no matter how hard I try- I can’t get rid of it.” Z picks at a thread on his sweatpants, avoiding eye contact with any of the boys.
“Dirty?” Robaire asks, his brows furrowed with concern.
“When they- touch me. It’s like it burns my skin for hours.”
“Who’s putting their hands on you, Z?” Robaire asks firmly.
“Everyone! It’s like everyone thinks they’re entitled to my body. It’s pathetic I can’t stop them, I’m a 6’4 man for fucks sake! But they put their hands on me and suddenly I can’t breathe and I’m helpless.” Z says, dropping his head into his hands.
“Oh, Z…” The sadness in Tae’s voice sends a pang of guilt to Z’s chest.
“None of this is your fault, man,” says T from the floor.
“I’m sorry we haven’t been there for you before,” Jesse quietly says.
“But we’re gonna be here for you now. And anytime you need us.” Robaire adds. “We’ll talk to security about upping crowd control at stage door. And if you're ever in a situation you're not comfortable with, you tell us, okay?”
Z nods at the floor and looks up at his boys.
“We love you, man. So much. And we’ll do anything for you, got it?”
Z looks over to Robaire and smiles. “Yeah, got it,” he whispers hoarsely.
“Can we hug you now, dude?” T asks eagerly from his spot on the floor.
Z tenses at the offer, and the others must notice because Robaire holds out his pinky towards Z.
“How about this instead?” He waits until Z hesitantly links their pinky fingers together then he reaches his other pinky out to Tae. Jesse offers his pinky to Z, which he takes, and links his other with T.
Z smiles at his boys, chest filling with warmth as they smile back in return, and he feels the safest he has in a long time.