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Heinz Baines was fucked up.
He’d known it since he was a kid — ever since his eyes had started snagging on the older lads playing football, lifting their shirts up to wipe the sweat from their faces. Heinz would follow the movement of their contracting abs, his mouth going dry.
Once, one of the other kids caught him staring.
“Oi, Ryan, you a fag or what?”
Heinz’s heart had lurched in his chest, his pale cheeks burning in the cool weather. Luckily, he’d shaken himself out of it, witty tongue at the ready.
“You fuckin’ wish!” he had called back, and the other kids just laughed, and life moved on.
But Heinz had always remembered that moment.
He remembered it again when he first met Jakey Davies — the Bov Boys had just formed, and Jakey was a laugh right from the start. He had a kind of awkward charm, which most people just found funny, but Heinz found achingly endearing. Jakey would crack a joke with an exaggerated wink, his full cheeks squishing around his smile, and Heinz would laugh. Maybe a little too much, sometimes.
He’d tried to push some of the feelings down.
Jakey’s more like a little brother, he’d thought, his fingers twitching as he stopped himself from running a hand through the boy’s soft fringe.
Even when he was lying next to his girlfriend — or ex-girlfriend, now — he’d stare at the ceiling, wondering how he could shake the unsettling feeling that something was wrong.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like girls, far from it. He’d always been a bit of a ladies’ man, with his cheeky grin and not-too-cocky confidence. Even when he had broken up with his ex-girlfriend, a strange relief seeping through him, it had been barely a month before he had a new one.
But throughout it all, Heinz’s swelling affection for Jakey never wavered. He knew that he was starting to freak the younger boy out a bit, with his handsy behaviour and sexual banter, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop.
It was just so addictive, to see Jakey’s face flush that delicious pink, or to hear him trying desperately to hold back his laugh. The way he got all serious sometimes, asking Heinz for advice like his opinion was the only one that mattered.
Could you really blame Heinz for wanting to snatch him up and keep him, so that all of Jakey’s attention was focused on him?
It was getting to the point where the other boys had been giving him odd looks, trying to commit to the bit without taking it a step too far.
Heinz always went too far.
“Mate,” Ginge had said one day, sitting on the edge of Heinz’s bed. “I dunno if Jakey’s really enjoying these jokes about you two anymore.”
Heinz had brushed it off, something about Jakey being sensitive sometimes, that he’d dial down the jokes towards his bird — but the comment had sat badly in his stomach.
He knew he really should stop, should focus on his gorgeous girlfriend and not his best fuckin’ mate.
Unfortunately for Heinz, he had limited self-control — even more so when alcohol was involved. And so, it all came to a head at one of the parties they’d thrown in celebration of the new Bov house.
Heinz was positively rinsed, downing Buzzballs and shots of Vodka like they were water. He couldn’t even taste them anymore, just letting the liquid slide down his throat until the warmth settled in his veins.
He’d had a little weed too, lounging in the garden and laughing with his equally sloshed mates. Exhaling smoke from his reddened lips, Heinz caught sight of Jakey slipping upstairs through the window.
He wasn’t fuckin’ having that. Jakey was always hiding during parties, the antisocial bastard, and Heinz had taken it upon himself to drag him back out again.
Heinz stood up suddenly, his head spinning as his knees buckled.
“You’re pissed, mate,” Tays laughed, but Heinz just passed the spliff back to him before stumbling off.
Heinz could barely tell where he was going as he staggered up the stairs, running his hands across the walls. His heart was pumping loudly in his ears, and he rubbed at the scruff on his jaw.
Where the fuck was Jakey’s room?
Finally, Heinz seemed to gain his bearings a little and pushed open the door to what he hoped was Jakey’s room.
Sure enough, the boy was sprawled across his bed, phone screen lighting up his face.
“Mate, what are you doing, hiding in here?” Heinz said, pushing the door shut.
Jakey yawned, rolling onto his back as his t-shirt slid up to expose a sliver of pale skin. “Just tired.”
He peered at Heinz, snorting. “You’re fucked, Beano. How much have you had?”
Heinz waved off the question, flopping onto Jakey’s bed beside him.
“Doesn’t matter. You should come back downstairs, we could dance or summat.”
Jakey gave him a small smile, scooting an inch closer. “Not really feeling it.”
Heinz searched for another excuse, anything to get Jakey buzzed and a little clingier, crowding in his warmth like oxygen. He couldn’t think, with the alcohol clouding his head and Jakey’s shirt still fucking riding up on his hip.
“We could, we could… we can just chill here then.”
Jakey laughed gently, and Heinz’ heart squeezed dangerously. Fuck, he hated himself.
“C’mon Beano, you love parties. Go back down, I’m fine, honest.”
Heinz opened his eyes properly now, catching on Jakey’s. They were soft and sincere, and Jakey’s breath hitched slightly.
“Nah,” Heinz murmured. “Not as fun without you.”
Jakey’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, confusion scattered across his face. “You’re nice tonight.”
Heinz shuffled closer on the bed, resting his head in the crook of Jakey’s neck. “Can’t be nice too often,” he puffed out a small breath of air. “Gotta keep up appearances.”
Jakey’s hand tousled his hair a little. “Y’alright though, yeah?”
Heinz leaned back to look at Jakey again. His concerned gaze, his skin all smooth and soft-looking. Those pink lips, parted slightly. Heinz wanted to fucking bite them.
There was something to be said about warnings. His mates had told him all the time, slow down on the Buzzballs, or you might actually have a problem, mate (Jakey). He never listened, of course. Would he even be properly Irish if he didn’t drink himself to death every other day?
But as his face crept closer to Jakey’s, the alcohol surging through his bloodstream like some kind of demonic love potion, he felt that maybe — just maybe — they had a point.
It wouldn’t matter, anyway.
Heinz’s lips grazed Jakey’s, tilting his head upwards as he sucked lightly. Jakey’s entire body shuddered in surprise, and Heinz thought he felt a slight response against his mouth, before he was being shoved away.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jakey yelped, horror painted over his face.
It hit Heinz all of a sudden, and he jumped back, stumbling off the bed.
“I don’t- sorry- ah, shite,” he rubbed his pounding forehead.
“Beano… I have a fuckin’ girlfriend,” Jakey started, panting. “Wait, I mean, were all of those jokes serious to you?”
“No,” Heinz snapped, tugging at his collar. The room had become stifling, and sweat dripped down the side of his head. “I’m just, I’m fucking drunk.”
Jakey’s lips pressed into a thin line, arms crossed as he looked Heinz up and down. “Yeah, I can see that. Are you finally admitting you have a problem then?”
“Just fuck off, Jake,” Heinz hissed. Jesus, he felt like he was going to puke.
Jakey’s eyes flashed with hurt, and Heinz’s nausea doubled. He wanted to take it back, to apologise, to run away and never return. In fact, he could get online right now, book a one-way ticket back home.
Jakey’s mouth moved silently, stuck on what to say, and Heinz backed towards the door. He didn’t want to hear the betrayal dripping in Jakey’s voice, or the inevitable rejection.
“I gotta go to bed,” Heinz muttered, and then he was gone.
Later that night, with tears welling up in his eyes and what felt like an elephant stomping on his goddamn chest, Heinz almost wished he wouldn’t wake up at all.