Page 24 of Maybe (Mis-shapes #1)

EZRA

An hour or so later, Pretty Vacant drew to a pretty close, and the bar emptied out.

It struck me that Isaac was hitting the booze hard to drown his sorrows, but discovering a little late in the day that the fuckers had learned how to swim.

With alcohol metabolising his maudlin thoughts into maudlin words, the big brother in me decided it was time to take charge.

Which is how we found ourselves in a half empty McDonalds, stuffing our faces with a Big Mac and fries.

“Coming out tonight was a good idea,” he declared, slurring a little and waving each fry around like he was conducting an orchestra. “The band were awesome. All down to your songs.”

I smiled at him. He'd usurped Jonty as my number one fan. “Then I’ll take all the credit.”

“You should. Especially as you hide in them,” he carried on, his mouth full.

“I what?”

“You hide in them. In the songs. On the outside, you’re like this cool, sorted guy—easy-going Ezra, the world’s best mate.

I watched you tonight, you know. Talking to everyone, everyone wanting to come over and say hi.

” He dipped a chip in a blob of mayo. “They might think they know you, but they don’t.

They don’t know about your past, and so none of them realise the real you is hidden in all the songs, if only they listened to the words. Not even your friend, Neil.”

“I’ve got toes but I’m not a toaster?” I scoffed. “Hardly Socratic.”

“Not that one, perhaps.” Isaac’s brow furrowed. “But you said you wrote that with Neil. I meant the others, the sad ones, about love and loss.”

Suddenly, the noisy fast-food restaurant felt unseasonably warm. Lusting after Isaac was one thing, him delving into my psyche another altogether, and one I wasn’t prepared for. I never plummeted those depths if I could help it. “None of them is about love and loss.”

“No?” Isaac grinned. Drunken perhaps, but it lit up his face. “Keep telling yourself that, Ez.”

I raised my hands in surrender. “I’ve been found out,” I dead panned. “I admit it. My life story, secreted into the lyrics of a song called Eagle with Scabbed Wings . Belted out at 100 decibels by a bunch of Green Day wannabes.”

“It’s true,” he insisted. “You can take the piss all you like. But you’re like a kid playing hide and seek. Crouched behind the sofa and thinking you’re so cunning, except everyone can see half your arse sticking out. I can, anyhow.”

Unbidden, my hand found its way to the rough old eagle tattoo on my hip. I’d thought I was smart, getting that without our father finding out. Somewhere along the way, a cigarette burn disfigured it, hence the song title.

“Stop talking bollocks,” I grumbled, “And eat your chips. Half of them have missed your mouth and are on the floor.”

I tipped the last of my Pepsi down my throat. Trust bloody Isaac to go beyond the simple lyrics, about a bird abandoned by the flock, and hear the truth. Eagles didn’t even bloody congregate in flocks. Pleased with himself, he stuck his tongue out at me.

“Alright, alright. Keep your scabby eagle wings on. What’s the latest song you’re working on about, then?”

“It’s…” I busied myself swirling ice cubes around the bottom of my cardboard beaker, aware of Isaac’s curious, slightly unfocused, blue gaze.

Fuck it, he probably wouldn’t even remember this conversation in the morning.

“It’s about, you know… us.” I fiddled with the straw, studying it like it held the secret to eternal life.

“How my emotions have been so confused since all this happened, Dad and everything. Since… you.”

“Sing me some lyrics,” he ordered.

“Absolutely not. It’s not finished yet.” No way would I share. I’d die of embarrassment. Singing that the right light wasn’t easy to find , yet how it shone from Isaac? And how I turned my soul to catch it?

“But I want to hear it!” he persisted. “Especially if they’re about me.

” He grinned like he’d been given the wrong exam results and just found out he’d scored 100 percent.

“You’ve written a song about me! That’s so cool.

” He took a slurp of Pepsi. “And so I am right. All your songs are from your heart. I was only a kid, but don’t think I don’t remember you showing me your eagle tattoo.

You’ll have to show it me again sometime. ”

Fuck, I needed a rapid change of subject. I pointed to the corner of his mouth where a smug smile lurked. “You’ve got mayonnaise on your lip. Here.”

Before he could reach up, I swiped it off, held my finger up for his inspection, then very deliberately brought it to my own mouth. “Mmm.” I gave it a lascivious lick, watching Isaac’s greasy lips part, hearing his breath catch. “Perhaps I’m not the only one of us hiding emotional stuff?”

“Fuck off, Ez,” he muttered as I swiped some mayonnaise off my own chips and repeated the finger sucking. “And stop doing that.”

“Mmm,” I hummed again, ignoring his discomfort. “Not bad.” Fucking with him some more, I flicked my eyes briefly down to his groin, then up again. “Not as good as the real stuff. But not bad.”

When I followed up with a wink, he flushed my favourite colour and busied himself digging into his fries. A twist of lust pulsed through my veins. Even the way he blushed was foreplay.

His very un-Isaaclike belch wasn’t, though. Someone had most definitely enjoyed enough booze for one night. “Home time?” I suggested, balling my burger wrapper.

“Not taking me clubbing?” He pouted. If he was anyone else, I’d think he was flirting with me, before he ruined it by almost knocking his tray off the table. “Not taking me to throw some shapes on the dancefloor?”

More like throw up. But omg. Did people still say that? Definitely time my baby bro was tucked up in bed. I wiped my hands on a napkin. “One night out on the pop and he thinks he’s Justin Bieber.”

When I stood, Isaac clumsily did the same. “Another night, perhaps. Let’s go outside for some fresh air and I’ll call you an Uber.”

A few seconds later, the ride was booked, and we were out on the pavement. Isaac swayed next to me, still grinning like a goose. Jeez, he was a lightweight.

“I’ll say goodbye then,” he announced cheerfully as he leaned in (or fell in) for a goodbye hug. “You give the best hugs, by the way, Ez. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby bro.”

His fine hair curled up my nose, smelling of beer, fries, and clean night air and the same tantalising freshness from earlier.

I would have—should have—pushed him away.

Except that idiot me was confident he could handle the weight of Isaac’s warm chest slumped against mine.

Thou shalt not covet thine brother . Idiot me even conned himself that he could handle Isaac’s arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer, blissfully unaware he was treating his hip to an intimate little hug all of its own against my denim-covered cock. Thou shalt not covet thine brother .

But when my brother eventually pulled away, and his twilight eyes, hazed with beer and so fucking perfect , smiled into mine, idiot me forgot every fucking commandment in the book.

Because when Isaac Fitz-Henry looked at me like that, I felt things I was fairly certain the bible frowned upon.

Neil’s strong spliff wasn’t helping, and my last beer was followed by a whiskey chaser.

Maybe I wasn’t so sober myself. So maybe kissing Isaac wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.

And maybe if I kissed Isaac, he’d kiss me back.

Maybe I could be more than simply his big brother.

And maybe Maybe would be an excellent name for my new song.

“Isaac.”

I spoke his name once, as a warning. Then, cradling that flushed face between my hands and before he could answer, I pressed my mouth to his.

Pleasure detonated as Isaac kissed me back.

As a small moan slipped from his lips, my stomach flipped.

I dragged him into an alley behind us, a shortcut leading to some office blocks.

My heart thundered in my chest as I crowded him against the fence.

Our tongues tangled. For a precious few seconds, I had Isaac beneath my hands, my sweet, innocent Isaac.

As needy for me as I was for him, we shared our first kiss, around the back of a skanky McDonalds, in an alley smelling of piss and rammed with bin bags chockful of rubbish.

And yet here I was, enfolding my arms around the moment as if I’d never let it go. Everything felt so right, from the way he clung on to the way his lips opened and softened. To the way his fingers tangled in my hair, tangled through my soul.

A second later, like he’d thrown a bucket of iced water over me, Isaac wriggled out of my grasp. Wrestling me away, he staggered back as if he’d been slapped. “What the fuck, Ez?”

With a disgusted sweep of his hand, he wiped me from his mouth, then stared at his palm as if he expected a smear of dogshit. “Ez,” he whispered, softer, shaking his head. “What the fuck?”

Could I laugh it off? Diffuse the situation?

Reduce it to a joke and pretend it never happened?

My scuffed soul gave it a go, even as a needle of pain seared my chest, as though I was bleeding out, knifed by a mugger in this skanky alley.

“What? Am I that bad a kisser? Don’t you like the taste of gherkins? ”

Isaac blew out a breath, glancing up and down the alley as if contemplating sprinting down it.

“Bloody hell, Ezra.” He turned back to me, rubbing his mouth.

“Bloody hell.” All of a sudden, he seemed awfully clearheaded.

“Why did you… you’re ruining everything.

Why couldn’t you just have… why couldn’t you have kept it like it was? ”

“What do you mean? Christ, Isaac, it was a quick goodbye snog after a few beers, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” he shouted. “ That’s all ? You’re my brother, fuckwit!”

“Only on a piece of paper, somewhere. Who gives a fuck?”

“I do!” A siren screeched past, and he yelled even louder. “I give a fuck about it, Ezra!”

Don’t raise your voice, Ezra—improve your argument.

Another one of the old man’s bullshit lines, but maybe he had a point.

Icing my temper, I sucked in a few breaths and counted to five.

“Sorry. Okay? I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have.

I just… I wanted to make you feel better.

I’ve had a few drinks, you’ve had a few drinks, and you’ve got a lot going on. ”

“So you thought you’d give me another fucking problem? Thanks a bunch. And thanks for the evening out. I’ll see you around.” He brushed past me. “My Uber’s here.”

I watched him walk away from me. We did a lot of walking away from each other, me and Isaac. “Don’t say you don’t feel it too, Isaac,” I yelled after him. “Because it's bullshit. And you know it.”