What's happened to me? And I can only think of one thing...one person who can get me back to who I was before. But I'll probably never see that person again.
Shane has this thought as he tips the bottle in his hand back on his lips, finishing the last of its bitter contents. He's never cared for beer, but at this point, he doesn't care. He's at a party, if you can call it that. It's his own party, in his own house, though not his idea. Not a birthday party or any sort of real celebration. If anything, to Shane it seems a crude sort of celebration of his granny's life, but really her death.
After her passing and his subsequent inheritance of the farm, his friends decided he was in need of some cheering up. Alcohol might do the trick, they teased. This town isn't the strictest when it comes to underage drinking. One didn't need to be a part of any particular crowd to have had a taste of alcohol at one point in their life or another.
Everyone could see it, that he was suffering mentally. What they didn't know before kindly putting together this mindless celebration, was that Shane has been suffering for much longer than Granny's passing. Ever since the day Zach left, he has felt nothing. If anything, the recent loss has only taken away his ability to pretend. Now that Granny isn't around to worry on his behalf, to cheer him on, to comfort him and encourage him to maintain his friendships and keep working hard, none of that seems to matter. He's done nothing but mope around. At least, that's what his friends say. Thus, the party.
It's not as though he thinks of nothing else. He thinks about work. He thinks about his sister. He thinks about the future. But every one of those things makes him think of Zach. Every day, he thinks of him. He's always there in the back of his mind like a faceless, voiceless being haunting him. He talks to him sometimes like he's there. But usually, if it comes to that, he just finds Maddie. She's always been a good listener.
"Shane, it's Brody!" someone shouts, interrupting his thoughts just as they have turned sour. A general increased murmur and cheerful greetings follow as a tall boy from Shane's youth enters the house—the house that was once Granny's, the house that is becoming filthy with alcohol and drunk adults only there to entertain themselves and feign loyalty.
He goes back to his drink, remembers it's empty, and heads into the kitchen for some fresh air, leaving the crowd and music. Again, his thoughts turn to Zach. Why did he do this to himself, day after day? Year after year? He feels so lonely again now at the start of summer. Just as he was ready to pull himself up and make some sort of effort, another blow had to come.
He hasn't been with anyone since Zach left. And the friendly touches and hugs of others are nothing compared to his exchanges with the boy he thought belonged with him.
Belonged to him? Hah. That kind of thinking was probably what drove him off.
The door swings open behind him, and music blasts in through its portal briefly before disappearing again. He turns to see Brody, beer already in hand. He remembers him as a scrawny and outspoken child and feels the itch to start an argument with the kid.
"You've gotten a lot taller. What are they feeding you at that fancy school of yours?"
The young man chuckles and tilts his head to the side with a confident smile. "And you don't seem to have grown a bit. Must be the stifling village air." He spreads his arms wide through the kitchen in a mocking way, emphasizing his height, then takes a drink from his bottle.
"Stifling. Maybe. So what brings you back; I thought you'd left for good."
"Well," he says, stepping closer, "It's summer, for one thing. I'm out of classes until August. You know, you really ought to pay more attention to the times and seasons."
Shane humphs. Brody smiles again, relaxing his gaze at his old friend. "But I also got a summer job with my uncle at the bank. Figure a little experience can only help me in the long run. I plan on being very successful on my own one day." He says it matter-of-factly then looks down, playing his lips together with a sniff. "Tell me what you've been up to the last few years. I hear the farm is yours now. That's great. I mean, if you're into that sort of thing. I personally don't see the appeal, but." He takes another drink and looks at Shane with a glint in his eye.
"Oh, you know, the usual stifling small town stuff."
"Still with the old man?" he grimaces at the taste of the beer.
"No, actually, now that Granny's gone, I've invested some of my inheritance money in cattle. I even plan on hiring some hands to help me manage them come calving time."
Brody snarks into his drink. "Cows? Seriously. You really are living the life, aren't you? You should go to school; I'll put in a good word with mine. Really. You'll learn how to let other people do the dirty work. Make some real money."
"I know you're saying that out of kindness, but I'm happy with where I'm at." The young man shrugs, but Shane can tell he has more to say. Out with it.
Brody taps his finger on his beer and glances toward the motionless door again before turning back to Shane. "Wes Bigg tells me you're up to your old tricks again."
Ah, there it is. He's come to harass and taunt me.
"Wes needs to learn to forgive. That was," three years ago. It's been almost three years since Zach left. What have I been doing all this time? "That was years ago. I haven't done anything to the kid since."
Sheesh, even Wes is here? Why did that have to be the first thing he told this kid when he saw him?
"Don't worry," Shane pushes himself off the wall. There's no fresh air to be had with this guy around. "Even drunk, I'd never have a go at you, big city. I'm not as dumb as I look." He makes a point of staring him in the eye as he passes.
And with that, they both return to the party, Brody to find more beer, and Shane to attempt normalcy in front of the others. After a while, his wish comes true and the guests start fading out one after the other, leaving only a few stragglers behind.
"Hey man, really, cheer up. This whole thing was for you, but I feel like I barely saw you the whole time!"
"Aw, leave him alone Rick. It's late, let's go home already."
"See ya, man! Oh yeah! Sheryl brought Maddie home. She's already asleep in her room. Listen, you're welcome!"
"Bye, dude!"
"Good night, Shane! Sorry about the mess!"
"Bye!"
Before long, it's just him and Brody left in the house. It's exhausting now being alone, so he doesn't understand the point of the celebration in the first place. The empty house feels more draining than before. And why is Brody still here?
Shane eyes him suspiciously. "What, have you stayed to help with cleanup?"
Brody stares at him through lowered lashes. He is sitting on the sofa, easily filling it with his spread arms and legs.
"You know, you were a lot friendlier when we were kids."
Shane sighs. He's not wrong. Though, he's being facetious. He knows he needs to face reality and get back to his life, to stop acting so jaded, but can't seem to find where to start. He rubs his bloodshot eyes.
"Look, I'm sorry. I guess you could say I've lost a lot lately. It's nothing personal."
Brody droops his head to the side, unhappy with the boy's response.
"I'm kidding, man! I'm drunk. Sit down, we still have some catching up to do."
Too drunk to go home? And isn't it a little late for reminiscing, he wonders, sitting on an empty chair. Not that he's tired or anything. Maybe mentally.
Brody lets out a frustrated huff. "Hah. I meant over here."
He just watches Shane for a moment, and Shane keeps his eyes on the floor, refusing to ask questions he doesn't want answers to. And that's when things take an odd turn.
After observing the boy who refuses to look his way a little longer, Brody snorts again and admits, "To be honest, when I'm drunk like this, I have to think it wouldn't be a half bad idea making out with a guy like you." He rakes his fingers through his hair which has somehow stayed styled throughout the night.
It almost sounds like an accusation, and Shane wonders if he heard him wrong. But now that he looks at him again, how his hair has been pulled down purposely and seductively over his forehead, Brody's face has the word horny written all over it.
Shane's shoulders droop, and he holds back a good, long eye roll. There's no 'when I'm drunk' about it. Brody planned this.
"You've never been interested in stuff like that before. You were someone who pushed me away rather forcefully, if I remember correctly." He kicks a plastic cup out of the way, hoping there's no liquid left inside. "Told me to go die." Now that was a childhood memory worth forgetting.
Brody laughs, waving off the incident of the past. "I've learned quite a bit about how the world works while being away at school. Let's leave it at that."
Shane doesn't know how to respond, but silence is never an issue when Brody is around.
"And I also realized what I was passing up. You're a lot cuter than even some of the girls at my school, you know that? And that's saying a lot. But girls are easy." He settles deeper into his claimed sofa. "A little flattery and they're yours. Until they catch you with someone else. They don't like that." He smiles again now, that sly smile.
Shane wonders what he should be feeling in this moment. It's then that he realizes he feels nothing. From his head to his heart, nothing to be had at all. What a joke he is.
Well then, what better way to restart his paused life and holed up emotions than by being physically close to someone? It is what he wants, deep down; he'll admit that much to himself. He's lonely. He craves the touch of another. And even though he knows this boy is saying these things only for himself, Shane wonders if he can't in effect provide himself with a little comfort by taking him up on the soft offer. Granted the guy doesn't back out and run for the hills in the next few moments, it's better than nothing. And he's only the second person in his entire life to ask for such a thing. In a way, it's flattering.
"So you're saying you came here just for that? ...For me?" Shane wants an honest answer. Brody is practically eating him alive with his lust-filled eyes.
"And the beer," he retorts through the curve of his mouth. "Don't get me wrong. It's not like I want to have sex with you tonight. Just have some fun."
"And there's no way I would refuse, is that what you're thinking?"
"You won't. And you know it." His gaze remains flat.
Shane stands and turns toward Brody on the couch. He can see that the kid is completely serious. His eyes stare confidently back up at his gaze, and the smallest smirk laces his lips.
After reaching toward the wall and slapping off the light, he puts one knee on the cushion beside Brody, then the other opposite the boy's hips. If this is what he wants, then he'll get it. But Shane will treat this as an opportunity to remember Zach. To recall to his memory the moments of kissing him, touching him—and he can't do what while seeing Brody's smug face.
Instinctively finding that face with his hands, then his neck, Shane kisses Brody lightly. The sensation of warmth on the sensitive skin around his mouth brings a similar warmth in his chest that causes his eyes to close.
His lips unstick from the drunken lips of his companion, and his hand slides up Brody's chest along the buttons of his shirt. Brody's body radiates warmth, and the fabric of his clothes feels soft beneath his fingertips, complimenting the haze already surrounding his mind.
He slides his other hand around Brody's head, trapping it in the crook of his arm, and pulls him forward until their noses touch and their lips are once again just inches from each other. He breathes in and out once and hears Brody swallow.
If he's going to run, now is the time. Will he break away from this loose hold?
Shane barely has time to wonder. Brody had come determined after all; he was telling the truth. After feeling strong arms wrapping around his frame, he takes that as the final go ahead and kisses him more recklessly, passion filling his veins with the memory of these motions, these feelings. And Brody is experienced, that is certain. The perfect rolling blend of lips against lips, and tongue against tongue amid feverish puffs of air, Shane honestly enjoys himself there in the dark, in the arms of the boy he has known since childhood, being roughly pulled in closer and held tighter until they are almost one person. He can't get enough of him.
And Brody certainly seems open to allowing Shane to continue taking the lead. In fact, he seems excited about the idea, which is something he didn't expect. Where Shane lets go, Brody brings Shane's hands back to him, under his shirt, through his hair, slowly sinking lower as he does.
Even with Zach, aside from their moments at the bridge—their spot—his experiences of intimacy were rushed and short lived. He never kissed him until his lips felt swollen. He had never worn himself out clinging too tightly for so long. Brody is so demanding yet so easy to satisfy. Was this desperation or...something more?
Soon they are embracing on the too-small couch, Brody allowing Shane to rest his head on his chest and rub his fingers aimlessly across his skin. A certain relaxation falls over them both, so much so that Brody falls asleep right there.
A small sense of nostalgia and comfort rise in Shane being near Brody, being able to touch his arms and chest, his face there in the dark. It is a foolish nostalgia, but one he cannot help but embrace.
And while it's not the same as his memories of Zach, the tastes and smells, the breathing and habits of touch, for now, to his wildly beating heart which no longer feels stuck cemented in stone, it is enough.