The Game
Taylor
People say my little brother’s clueless like it’s a bad thing. It’s my favorite thing about him.
Zac has absolutely no idea how obvious he is. When he stares at me, everyone notices, including me. It would be impossible to miss the way he gazes longingly and follows after me like a lost little puppy dog, with those big, sad eyes. Everyone sees it, but I know he tries to convince himself that I don’t. That I’m just as clueless as he is.
It’s not like I can blame him, I guess. It wasn’t even weird to begin with; after all, what little kid doesn’t idolize his big brother? And it’s not Zac’s fault that he ended up with me for a big brother. Isaac found his own niche, somehow, but Zac has always wanted to be me. Somewhere along the way, it got twisted, and he started wanting to be with me, too.
And he thinks I don’t know. He thinks I can’t see the lust in his eyes when he glances at me from behind the drums, watching the way I work the crowd into almost as much of a frenzy as I do him.
The thing is, I’m an asshole. I’ve accepted that about myself long ago. I can live with it, but I know it’s driving Zac insane. I guess that’s how I like it. I love the confusion and hurt on his face when I tease him. If he’s obvious, then I’m even worse. There’s something about flirting with him – so forbidden, so wrong – that makes it the biggest thrill I’ve ever felt. Watching him try to figure out what’s going on in my head is the best part.
Every now and then, I’ll indulge him. I didn’t mean to take it that far the first time. We were drunk and I had been teasing him, pushing him to make his own move for days. I wanted to know I was right about the way he looked at me. I wanted to know that he wanted me; somehow, that was a bigger ego boost than any of the groupies in the world.
In the end, I pushed myself too far.
I didn’t plan to kiss him, but I did. And I couldn’t stop. He wasn’t the first guy I ever kissed, so that wasn’t what stopped me in my tracks. I’m not sure what it was. Maybe it was him. Maybe I just wanted to see how far I could push him, how far he would let me go. It scared me to realize that he wasn’t going to let me stop. He wanted to take it all the way.
Apparently, even assholes like me have their limits. But that doesn’t stop me from teasing him every chance I get. The fear mixed with lust in his eyes is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. Yeah, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I think he’s sexy; objectively, who wouldn’t? He may not have been the teen dream like me, but he grew into his looks in a way I never would have imagined. I’m still a little feminine, but he’s all man. I like that about him. It makes me want to see more of him, to catalogue all our differences, but I think he would be too shy to let me see him naked even if he didn’t want me.
The kisses keep happening. It’s like this inevitable build up, this pent up tension from all my teasing, and it just has to happen. I keep waiting for him to make another move, but he won’t. Maybe he’s scared. I’m not exactly fearless, myself, but I’m getting off on the adrenaline rush too much to worry about the consequences. Someday he’ll come to terms with what he feels, and maybe then he won’t let me just walk away.
I can’t even imagine what it would be like, and I’ve tried. If I’m going to push him to his breaking point, I’d like to know what to expect. Sometimes, I think he’s terrified of sex. He’s never been like me, taking sex from whoever he can get, whenever he can get it. It’s just how I am; there are very few things in the world that give me the same thrill as figuring out how to seduce someone new. It always leaves me longing for more, though. I guess I just like the chase; maybe that’s why I’m always chasing after Zac, but pulling back just before the finish line.
If we ever let it go all the way, I can imagine two scenarios. In the first one, he’s too shocked to believe it’s really happening. I’ll take the lead and shove him into a world he’s only imagined. I don’t think he even really knows what it is he wants from me; he’s never been with another man, couldn’t know how it feels like I do. I could show him. He would let me do anything I wanted, I know he would.
The other scenario is the exact opposite. I’ve teased him too long and he’s had enough. Zac’s got a volatile temper; he doesn’t let anyone but me get away with the kind of bullshit I pull. When he’s finally had enough of me dangling his biggest desire in front him, he’ll snap. He’ll take everything he wants, and he’ll feel everything he wants, but he won’t stop to enjoy any of it. It won’t be about the pleasure or the love anymore; it’ll be about making me pay.
I’ve been waiting a long time for anyone to make me pay for anything I’ve done, and there’s a certain poetic justice in the thought of Zac exacting his revenge on me like that.
At first, it was just an idle thought, imagining what he might do. These days, it’s more like a fantasy. I drift off in my own mind, drowning out boring conversations with thoughts of Zac shoving me against a wall and not letting me kiss and run away anymore. I don’t know what to make of those thoughts. I knew I was depraved, but this is a new level for me. I’ve let this game go on too long.
Sometimes, I’m not even sure what the game is anymore or who has the upper hand. There’s only one thing I know for sure anymore. It’s Zac’s move.