Page 34 of Maybe
A terrible idea crept into my mind. The right thing to do, of course, would be to fuck my brother out of my system by fucking someone else tonight. Not Neil; a stranger perhaps. Someone in here would be up for it.
Or I could play with fire. I could tease and flirt and make a play for this man. Still the funny, serious boy I remembered from my youth but now with an added serving of grief, disappointment, loneliness, and uncertainty thrown in. From the moment I stepped into that fucking solicitor’s office and saw him sitting there, anxious, tired, and frazzled, I’d wanted to scoop him up onto my lap and fill the gaping hole in his life his big brother’s sudden disappearance left wide open. Except, increasingly, not in an especially big brotherly manner.
A glimpse of dream Isaac flashed before my eyes. Fuck it, terrible ideas were my speciality.
Real Isaac gave me a teasing nudge, jerking his chin in Neil’s direction. “Perhaps I should have a crack at him, myself.”
Over my dead body. Now I’m feeling possessive as fuck, as well as horny as fuck. Moreover, Neil would eat Isaac alive. That man knew more about boy pussy than a vet specialising in male cats.
“So if not Neil,” Isaac said, his eyes scanning the room. If only he had an inkling of the turmoil churning through my mind. “Anyone else here you’ve got your eye on?”
Only you, apparently.I shook my head. “Nah. I’m not like that these days.” Seemed I wanted to impress my younger brother in every aspect of my life. “Not since I’ve had Jonty living with me. Occasionally, when I get a rare night off, I might, you know…”
“Be the fuck without consequence?” he supplied.
Regretting my earlier candour, I shifted. “Well, yeah.”
“Does he… does Jonty know that you like men? Is he… I don’t know much about kids. Is he old enough to know stuff like that?”
“He knows,” I acknowledged. “He’s not particularly interested, and he’s never seen me with anyone, but he knows. I decided it was better it came from me than Carly or her mum accidentally letting it drop. There’s a girl in his class with two mums—this generation of children take it more in their stride, I think. Did you ever get around to telling Dad about you?”
“No, because there was nothing to tell. I mean, I have, you know, I mean… I’m a planet away fromfuck without consequenceterritory, but I’m not totally… um… inexperienced.” The blush stayed, more of a beer flush now, and he gave an embarrassed laugh. “Let’s say coffee with Gerald the optometrist has been the highlight of my sexual calendar this year. Unless listening to Kylie’s Desert Island Discs counts.” A shy smile tugged at his mouth. “I’m very bad at being gay.”
“There’s no right way,” the big brother in me stoutly pointed out while simultaneously breathing a sigh of relief. Nerdy Gerald hadn’t made it beyond coffee. “You're still gay, you know, even if you don’t go clubbing, are not interested in casual sex and don't dress in rainbows 24/7.”
“I guess,” he agreed. “My mate at work, Alaric, says that too, but usually when he’s speeding out the door on the way to go clubbing, on the hunt for casual sex, and dressed in rainbows.” The blush grew redder; I should buy him beer more often. My brother was a perfect mix of bashfulness and need, with a spoonful of good old-fashioned sweet innocence thrown into the melting pot, just to get my juices really flowing.
More inappropriate images rampaged through my head, dancing around a huge glowing lightbulb. Iwantedhim, like I couldn’t remember ever having wanted anyone else. I wantedIsaac up against those kitchen cupboards. I wanted him on the tiled hallway floor. I wanted him on the living room carpet. But more than that, I needed to breathe him in—his fresh scent, his naivety, his utter cluelessness—and bottle it up for when I was with a guy who was none of those things.
Perhaps a fifth pint was in order.
“I like sex, by the way,” he added, as if reading my mind. “It doesn’t happen as frequently as I’d like.”
I waggled my eyebrows at him. “And how frequently would that be, Dr Fitz-Henry?” I was still persuading myself he was off limits, but there was no harm in testing the waters a little more.
It was only a throwaway tease, but his eyes latched onto mine as though he was actually going to come up with a rough estimate. “Not very often, probably.”
“I thought you said you like it?”
“I do. I’d just like to find the right person to be having it with, that’s all. I’ve tried one-night stands and gay bars and dating apps. I even downloaded Grindr for about three minutes, then deleted it because it looked terrifying. They’re not for me. It sounds really clichéd, but I have to feel a connection with someone first.”
The flush obstinately remaining, his eyes focused back on the stage. “Which is probably hard for someone like you to understand? But I hate all that, Ez. It feels like a cattle market, which is why I was giving Gerald a go. Or someone like Gerald.” He leaned into me. His head virtually rested on my shoulder. “If I could choose, I wouldn’t have been gay, because I think finding a long-term girlfriend at my age would be a lot easier than finding a man wanting the same thing. Most of the ones I come across are like Alaric. Or you.”
This conversation wasn’t travelling in the direction I hoped for. Clearly, I’d been totally written off as unsuitable sexualpartner material and plopped into the same category as this Alaric chap.
I was beginning to feel a prickling jealousy every time his name cropped up. Added to my fresh worry about Isaac now being on Neil’s radar as well, it was a wonder I wasn’t a bag of nerves. The double whammy of big brother jealousyandkeep-your-hands-off-my-man jealousy was a potent mix.
“Perhaps some of the guys who are doing the Grindr thing are actually looking for the same as you, but they don’t know how to go about it either.” Now I sounded as if I was encouraging him to go out and get his cock sucked by a random geezer other than me.
Fortunately, he shook his head. “Nah. I don’t think so.” He took another swig of beer. “You know in films, when people take someone back to their place for the first time? Straight couple films, not gay. But the principle is the same.”
“Rom-coms, you mean?”
“Yeah, that sort of thing. They have unbelievably great sex, then next morning the other person manages to get out of bed, get showered, get dressed, and go downstairs to make a delicious nutritious brunch without even waking them.”
“Yeah.” I was trying not to laugh. “I hate those too perfect types of films. What’s your point?”
“My point,” he said, waving his pint glass around, “is it’s utter bollocks. If ever I’ve gone back to someone’s place, I’ve woken with a bolt of ‘where the hell am I?’ Followed by an hour of lying next to a virtual stranger, motionless, hungover, needing a wee, and trying not to breathe or fart. Desperately thinking of how to extricate myself when I’m little spoon and facing the wall. Requiring me to literally climb over a body. And all that’s before I’ve located my scattered clothing without turning the bloody light on.”
