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Still lived in the same Cleveland suburb they grew up in.
Still partied hard and chased women, did the bare minimum to scrape by at a shit job.
Still had the nerve to come over without knocking, put his disgusting dirty shoes up on the coffee table, crack a beer he hadn’t paid for, raid the fridge for a sandwich he made with groceries that weren’t his, and tell his younger brother what to do with his life.
So yeah. Brothers. Definitely can’t live with them. Definitely could live without them. Okay, probably could live without them.
“Jesse? Man?” Sam leaned forward on the couch and did that annoying thing that he knew Jesse hated. He snapped his fingers right under his nose. “Where’d you go there? You just checked right out?”
“I’m tired,” Jesse ground out, beyond irritated. “It’s midnight on a Thursday night. You barge in here half an hour ago, take my kitchen apart, and slam up your muddy shoes on my coffee table after trailing them through my house.”
“So? You have a maid.” Sam bit off another huge portion of that sandwich he’d actually found the skills to assemble- impressive, since he was usually limited to cracking the top off a beer and chewed loudly, with his mouth open.
“That’s not the point.”
“Totally the point. If I was rich enough to not have to clean up after myself, I wouldn’t.”
Jesse rolled his eyes. “You don’t now, and never have, so what would be the difference? And mom isn’t your maid, just an FYI.”
“Shut it.”
“You live in their basement. You should at least bother to keep the stench of rotting food and old bedsheets from reaching the main floor. Do you even wash them in between… uh- sessions?”
Sam flipped him the bird and jammed the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. “That’s sick, man. You’re my brother. Not discussing that with you.”
“No, but you think it’s okay to bring home a parade of women into mom and dad’s house when you’re thirty-four years old? Tell me how exactly mom has her hopes pinned on you for a grandchild? Oh wait? She’s not seriously hoping you’ll slip up one night, is she? Because that’s just wrong. And I know mom and she wants a grandkid the legit way. Committed relationship and all.”
“You’re a prick, you know that?” There was no heat behind Sam’s words, though.
Jesse crossed his arms. He let his beer sweat away onto his lap, without taking a sip. He didn’t even want it, but Sam had of course cracked the top and passed it over, like it was his house and Jesse barged in right before midnight, not the other way around.
“Definitely not.”
“Just because you date here and there, doesn’t mean mom doesn’t know that you’re never going to give her a grandkid. Ever. Because you’re never going to be with anyone long enough to produce one. She knows that Skyndey was the only one for you. Always has. Since she won’t give you the time of day, went off and did her own thing down there in San Francisco and hasn’t called up in ten years, she knows that she’s shit out of luck when it comes to you. She’s accepted that you’re going to be single for the rest of your life.”
Sam picked up the other half of the sandwich and put it to his mouth. Raw rage rose up in Jesse, choking off his ability to be reasonable or sane or to even breathe. He could deal with the other shit, but no one- not even Sam, walked in there and called Sydney Skydney. He used to call her that all the time when they were kids, but that was a big hell no and Jesse was like a bull waiting for that red flag to be waved in front of his face.
Before he even knew what he was doing, he reached out and knocked the damn sandwich out of Sam’s hand. It hit the floor, spraying mustard, mayo, cheese, and salami all over the hardwood and up the side of the couch.
“Get the hell out,” he ground out. “Now.”
“Aw, come on, I was just having a bit of fun. It’s true. It’s true and you know it and that’s why you’re getting your damn panties in a twist.”
Jesse sat back on the couch. He realized that he’d spilled his beer down his shirt and that only made him more pissed off. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask his brother why he couldn’t just get his shit together, stop leaching off their parents- which was really leaching off of him, because he was the one who had given them the money to retire, paid them back for all they’d done for him- and grow the fuck up, but he bit it back.
Sam knew. He knew that he’d screwed up his life in a big way. He didn’t know how to fix it and even though Jesse didn’t want to feel sorry for the guy, he kind of did.
