PART ONE: THE BOOTH



I cock my head sideways and then back again, but to no avail. I try another angle, tilting my head in the opposite direction and squinting. It's useless: again, I see the same thing.

My brother is the most beautiful fucking thing I have ever seen.

He's across the room, not too far from me, ordering drinks and being shamelessly eyed by a long-legged brunette with a tight skirt and knee-length leather boots. I grin as he first notices her staring and turns his body slightly off-center, as to avoid catching her eye. He's trying to appear aloof and unaware but I can see the slight shuffle of his feet and I know that if she approaches him he's going to be a good guy, he's going to smile his charming, gentlemanly smile, and he's going to do whatever she wants him to. It's all he knows - he's afraid of disappointing people and causing a conflict.

She's shifting in her seat and he's turning his body even farther to the side, leaning one elbow against the bar and nonchalantly covering his face as though he's trying to block a six o' clock sunset. I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing and I find myself unable to turn away from his boyish tactics.

He's the most adorable person I've ever known. He's got that bashful eye-dropping down pat, which turns me on like no tomorrow in addition to the aforementioned foot-shuffle, a nasty habit of chewing the hell out of his bottom lip, and a coy look of disbelief that consists of him lowering his chin and staring up at me through beautifully dark eyelashes. For as long as I can remember, being subject to any of these personal quirks has made me squirm in my seat.

The reason it turns me on, the reason that Matt always seems to be capturing my attention, is because his naïveté is not an act. He is genuinely shy because he's experienced so little in his romantic life. I mean sure, he's had sex and whatnot - all the essentials - but it's still safe to say that that part of him is almost wholly suppressed. A lot of our friends think that his hesitant and polite nature is an act for the ladies (or men, whatever the case may be) because he's the completely different with people he knows, but I know that my brother truly is 100% scaredy-cat.

I try so hard not to be so attracted to his innocent nature simply because I'm his polar opposite. It seems sick not only because he's my brother but also because it feels like something that would be a conquest - the sex-driven maniac targets the virginal innocence as yet another trophy to put on his wall. I'm not saying it's like that, because it's NOT - I'll be the first to admit that I have a ridiculously strong emotional attachment to Matt - but it just seems like it should be something cheap like that.

So I try to tell myself that I don't really want him every time I get thrilled over the privilege of watching him do the simplest things, like folding laundry in only a pair of faded blue jeans or trying to balance his checkbook with strands of hair falling across the line of concentration in his forehead. But I'd be lying if I said that I didn't find his searching, doe eyes and his endlessly tapping fingers at least a little bit sexy.

It's so hard for me to be in the same room with him sometimes because he seems to just ooze sex. It's like a well of untapped potential lying dormant in the slight, unknowing sway of his thin hips or the idle scratching of his bare stomach or - God forbid - the absent-minded licking of some delicious substance from his upper lip. He just needs someone to open him up.

I want to see him break out; I want to see him kiss somebody like he's got no air left in him. I want to see him clawing at someone's arms like he's going to die if he doesn't feel something hard and filling inside of him. I want to see him wrapped around someone's waist like a silver-studded belt. I want to see him confident and knowing, I want to see him naughty, I want to see him contorting and thrashing beneath me as I pour every ounce of my energy into making him scream. I want to see him scream, I want to see him scream in complete and total abandon for me, not able to think about anything but the fury that I'm pounding through his veins.

God knows that the fucking uncertainty act he's got going already makes me come in my pants for him.

Sexy, everything about you so sexy
You don't even know what you've got
You're really hitting my spot

And you're so innocent
Please don't take this wrong
Cos it's a compliment
I just wanna get with your flow
You gotta learn to let go

I have to take a deep breath to banish the thoughts from my mind as I see that Matt's been served our drinks and will be returning momentarily. I can see the relief etched in the corners of his mouth as he begins to walk away but freezes instantly as he feels a touch on his shoulder and slowly turns around to face his admirer.

I laugh quietly to myself, imagining that he must be shitting his pants through that smile he's wearing. I watch as they exchange short words and a subtle look of disbelief overcomes the woman's face. He nods to her lightly and then turns and lifts his chin towards me, which prompts me to shift my gaze elsewhere before he catches me staring. As I risk turning back, I see the girl eyeing me curiously and then she and my brother part ways.

"So what happened with Lady Luck over there?" I grin, nodding over his shoulder as he sets our drinks on the table and sinks into the booth.

His eyes flicker momentarily. "What? Oh - nothin'."

"What'd you say to her?"

"I didn't say nothin'!"

"I saw you say somethin'," I insist, leaning forward and hoping that my closer presence will put some pressure on him. I'm also hoping for a whiff of his freshly washed hair and aftershave, but we'll leave that aside.

He sighs as a red tint casts itself over his expression and his voice comes amidst a meek smile. "I told her I was gay."

"You what?" I ask as though I hadn't heard. I know full well what he said but I need to see that unnecessary embarrassment flush his soft features. It's like a disease I have; shame just turns me on.

He lifts his eyes to me and reluctantly speaks more loudly. He's a bit redder. "I said I told her I was gay."

I raise an amused eyebrow. "You told her you were with me?"

It's fucking priceless, the way his head dips with the ultimate embarrassment and he lets a nervous chuckle escape from his throat as he nods, eyes trained carefully to his lap. I suck it all in like I need it to breathe, wondering why Matt still hasn't caught on to the fact that I watch his every hesitant movement and know his every questionable thought.

I would have laughed outright if I weren't so turned on. Instead I resign to a reassuring grin, my head too mesmerized by his bashfulness to try and balance my inner feelings with my outer ones.

I want to break him. I want to tear down that wall he hides behind, to destroy the self-doubt he doesn't need, to make him see that it's alright to go out on a limb. I want him to do something wrong and adore every fucking minute of it, and let's face it: what's more wrong than a man making love to his brother?

Read Part 2 of Michelle's Just a Little