My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}

𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯’𝔰 𝔯𝔞𝔪𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; please refrain from purchasing this Chapter if you’ve already read it...

•⋅⊰∙∘☽✼☾∘∙⊱⋅•

The rain had been steadily falling since dawn, soft and unyielding against my window. The whole house felt muted, as if the weather had smothered any warmth left from last night’s dinner, which, let’s be honest, had been a strained affair full of polite smiles and unspoken tension.

Now, here I was, curled up on my bed with a blanket wrapped around my legs, my phone lighting up with notifications. Ethan had been texting me nonstop all morning.

Ethan💖💙: Hey, I’m learning how to teleport.

Me: Why?

Ethan💖💙: So I can pop into your room right now. It’s freezing...I want to keep you warm 😏

I blushed furiously, to the point I probably looked constipated.

Me: Pretty sure that’s how horror movies start.

Ethan💖💙: Totally worth it.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto my face. "He’s so dramatic," I muttered, quickly typing a response.

Me: If you teleport in, at least bring hot chocolate. I’m freezing.

Ethan💖💙: Deal. Marshmallows or no marshmallows?

Me: Obviously marshmallows.

Ethan💖💙: You’re perfect.

That made my stomach do a little flip. Ethan had always been really sweet, but lately, he was almost too clingy. Every time my phone buzzed, it was him—checking in, teasing me, or sharing some random story about his little brother. It was nice, truly. But I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that it was unsettling how easily he filled my days and my thoughts.

I leaned back against the headboard and listened to the rain’s steady rhythm. Mom had retreated to her art room, and Keith was likely holed up in his office again...where he seemed to vanish every time I walked past.

Another buzz pulled me from my thoughts.

Ethan💖💙: Send me a selfie. I miss your face.

Me: You literally saw me yesterday.

Ethan💖💙: Exactly. That was 24 hours ago.

I couldn’t help but chuckle quietly and shake my head. "He’s hopeless," I whispered to myself, still grinning as I crafted a playful reply.

For the first time in ages, things felt almost... normal. Safe, even. I didn’t have to dwell on Adrien’s icy stares or the way the air felt thick whenever we were in the same room. Ethan made me forget all that.

A knock on my door broke the cozy moment right when I was in the middle of a playful text battle with Ethan about who would survive longer in a zombie apocalypse. I groaned softly and tucked my phone under the blanket.

"Come in," I called out, half expecting it to be Carlby, but it was Mom instead, peeking in with the polite smile she wore whenever she needed something.

"Noah, sweetheart," she said as she stepped inside, a folded expensive scarf around her neck. "I’m thinking about turning Keith’s old office into an art studio, but it’s such a mess. Mind lending me a hand?"

I stared at her for a moment, tempted to make up some excuse about homework, but the hopeful look in her eyes made me sigh. "Alright," I said, getting up from the bed. Being part of a wealthy family like the Fells had definitely made me a bit too lazy when it came to chores, since they were maids who did every single one of them.

That was frightening in its own way, so I took charge of cleaning my own room.

Mom chuckled softly and said with a hint of sarcasm, "Try not to sound too excited about it."

Keith’s office was on the first floor, tucked away behind the library. It was a large, dimly lit room that carried the scent of old wood and ink. Papers were piled high on every flat surface, and an ancient-looking typewriter sat at the desk like some kind of forgotten artifact.

"This is... wow," I muttered, taking in the chaos.

Mom handed me a rag. "You take that side, I’ll start with the desk."

We worked in silence for a few minutes, the sound of rain tapping against the window blending with the rustle of papers. Then, of course, she had to ask.

"So," she said casually, dusting off a picture frame, "I’ve been meaning to ask...how’s it going with that boy? Ethan, right?"

I nearly dropped the stack of books I was holding. "Uh—what?"

She turned, wearing that knowing motherly smile that turned my cheeks red. "Noah, come on. You’ve been floating around the house like you’ve swallowed a sunbeam for the past week. Don’t tell me it’s just a coincidence."

I let out a sigh, pressing my hand to my warm face. "Okay, fine. We’re... together. O–officially."

Chapters fırst released on N0velFire.ɴet

Even saying that out loud felt like a dream.

Her eyes sparkled, and for a moment, she looked years younger. "Oh, sweetheart, that’s wonderful! He seems like such a nice young man. Keith mentioned he saw him pick you up the other day."

I guess you could call me lucky, I came out to my mom while in tears one evening when I was sixteen, half expecting her to treat me like shit or send me to a Pray Away The Gay camp.

But she merely grinned, wiped away my tears and told me that she’d still love me no matter who I loved. And she supported me all through the pool incident when the entire school learned I was gay and I kept getting homophobic comments thrown my way.

Which is more than I can say about Gigi’s parents, they never accepted she was a lesbian and they cut her off. And now...she lives with Skylar with not thoughts of going home.

"Yeah, he’s... really great," I replied, even though part of me couldn’t shake the memory of Adrien’s harsh words from that night...’Ethan would never go for someone like you.’

Mom’s tone became softer as she wiped the dust from the typewriter. "Just promise me one thing, okay?"

I glanced up. "What?"

"Don’t let love make you lose sight of yourself," she said gently. "And don’t rush into anything you’re not ready for. A good guy will never pressure you."

My throat tightened a bit as I nodded. "I know, Mom."

Before she could say more, there was a light knock at the door. One of the maids...Lydia, I think...peeked her head in. "Ma’am, a package just arrived for you. It’s marked urgent."

"Oh!" Mom brushed her hands together and smiled at me. "Okay, I’ll be right back. Keep at it, darling. I’ll just check what it is."

"Sure," I replied, watching her leave.

When the door clicked shut behind her, the room felt quiet again, all I could hear was the rain filling the silence. I went back to cleaning, letting her words echo in my head as I dusted the shelves and sorted through old files.

Don’t get swept away by love.

Easier said than done.

I was almost done with the lower shelves when my elbow brushed against one of the desk drawers. It was slightly open, and before I could steady it, the whole thing lurched forward and crashed to the floor with a dull thud. Papers scattered everywhere like startled birds, with a few envelopes sliding under the chair.

"Ugh, fucking perfect," I muttered, crouching down to clean up the mess before Mom came back and thought I’d turned the place upside down.

I brushed off the dust from the fallen drawer and sighed, kneeling to gather the papers that had spilled out. Just as I was about to shove the drawer back into place, something white caught my eye—an envelope half-stuck behind the back panel.

Curiosity got the better of me. I pulled it out and frowned. The paper looked old, the edges yellowed, and a rusty brown stain had seeped into one corner. I grimaced. "Gross."

Still, I opened it.

The letter inside was typed in a formal style—almost like something from a lawyer or the police.

"Re: Case of Joanne Fell, Update on closed investigation.

After new evidence was recovered near the crash site, the department has reopened an informal inquiry into the nature of the incident..."

I froze, blinking. Joanne Fell.

I stared at the letter again, unsure. The stain on the corner made it feel even more unsettling, but I shook my head. It was probably nothing. Keith was always tangled up in a million business matters from being the owner of multiple hotels and casinos...to being the owner of a vineyard were wine was produced; maybe this was just some old legal document he forgot to throw out. Cold cases were reopened all the time even when they were later closed, right?

"Don’t start imagining things, Noah," I muttered, folding the letter back into the envelope.

I tucked it neatly among the other papers, pretending I hadn’t seen it at all.

Yet, for a brief moment, my mind flickered back to a memory, Adrien’s voice one night, sharp and angry, arguing with Keith about lies. I swallowed hard, trying to shake off the thought.

It wasn’t my concern. It couldn’t be.

I pushed the drawer back into place and stood up, dusting off my jeans. "There," I said softly to myself. "Done."

And that was that.

Or at least, that’s what I told myself as I turned off the light and closed the office door, trying to ignore the tightness in my chest, as if I’d just hidden something important without realizing it.