Something Different

"Michael," Gob said walking up to his brother as he came in the door, "I found a great new illusion you are going to love."

"Does it involve you actually coming in to the office? You know, now that you are the president you might consider going to work," Michael lay his bag down on the counter, "And how are you going to pay for these tricks?"

"Illusions Michael," said Gob, "And I figured I could afford it since I'm the president."

"I have no problem with that," replied Michael taking a drink, "But you can't just give yourself a raise whenever you feel like it."

"Common Michael," Gob cooed as he leaned in to hug his brother, "You aren't bitter about dad making me president, are you?"

"Of course not Gob," Michael said pulling out from the embrace. He went over to the t.v., switched it on, and flopped onto the couch. "Look, I'm tired. Why don't we talk about this later?"

"Hey, it's the Banana Grabber!" Gob exclaimed pointing wildly at the t.v. He took out a bottle of whisky and sat down next to Michael.

"Isn't it a bit early to start drinking?"

"Hardly, it's 6 pm."

"You're right. Hand that over." The two of them sat in silence, passing the bottle between them. Michael was so exhausted from work that he didn't even bother getting a glass. Who was he trying to impress?

"I don't understand why you had to have the Banana Grabber whistle," said Gob, "It's embarrassing. I didn't even do it for that long."

"No, see, the whistling adds so much to the character," said Michael as he took a swig, "It's quirky. And it isn't meant to make fun of you."

"Well what if I were to make a cartoo…a…a…cartoon wolf that rode around on a bike and, and, and, and, and had a gap in its teeth and, and snatched corn balls…" Gob stammered, his eyes darting around as he searched for something about which to mock his brother. "That was weak Gob, even for you. You know, reviewers have been saying that the Banana Grabber character is unrelatable."

"Well, I didn't want to say anything but he is a bit cartooney," Gob said.

"It's a cartoon, Gob," Michael tilted his head toward his brother for a moment, "Whatever, look, why don't we watch something else?"

- - - - - - -

Two whisky bottles lay empty on the living room floor. Michael was spread out on the couch with his brother leaning sloppily against it. Gob reached for the remote and turned off the show Mad Money which had been playing loudly in the background. "Michael," he said.

"Yeah."

"I always resented dad's love for you, his respect."

"I know Gob," Michael said, "And I always resented Lindsay for the same reason. When mother remembered her birthday and not mine… I think our parents really did a number on us. I mean, look at Buster." He paused and drunkenly gazed at the ceiling. "We are so pathetic."

"We really are pathetic," Gob choked as if he had just realised this, "We are both so, so pathetic." He sunk his head further down and began to weep loudly.

"Actually, we might not be that pathetic, but you certainly are."

"Thanks John Wayne," Gob spat out in an overly sarcastic tone, "I know I haven't been the best brother but I certainly try."

"Oh, common," said Michael easing himself onto the floor beside him, "I was kidding, neither of us are pathetic. We just have issues like everyone else." He leaned in to give his brother a hug. Gob grabbed him, pulling in close. Michael usually avoided hugging his brother this way because it made him uncomfortable. Whenever they were physically close his body grew warm and expectant, a wonderful sensation but one he couldn't allow himself to feel around his brother. It was just wrong. Normally Michael would be pulling away right now, disentangling himself from Gob, climbing out from his brother's arms. But tonight some part of his muddled mind managed to ask, "What if I don't?"

Gob shifted in further, his sobs quieting down now. He pressed Michaels head to his neck. "Thank you Michael."

"Yeah," Michael leaned back just enough to see Gobs face, his eyes were soft and greedy. The brothers had always had a strange tension between them, a heavy and enticing atmosphere they both tried not to recognize. He wasn't sure what was different about tonight. Gob gave a decisive shudder and slid his hand to the base of Michael's neck, pulling their lips together. For a moment Michael's mind went blank with panic. It took him a minute to understand what was happening. His brother had his tongue in his mouth. And then came the realisation that he actually liked it…a lot. Michael pressed back and the two men writhered against each other. "Gob," Michael moaned.

"Mmm," Gob mumbled encouragingly, "Michael." He shifted to the right and began kissing Michael's neck. Michael took him by the collar of his shirt, undoing the buttons, working his way down the black cloth with a passion he forgot he had. This seemed to intensify Gobs kissing and he sunk his hands into his brother's messy hair. Michael had undone the shirt now and was fumbling with his belt, trying hard not to think about what he was doing. Gob arched his back with pleasure and anticipation. He clawed at Michael's shirt not caring about the buttons that cascaded to the floor. This had been a recurring dream of his since childhood, since before he knew what the dreams meant, before he fully understood how wrong they were. Even through all those years some part of him had held onto the hope that he would one day be brave enough to act on these feelings…and that Michael would act back.