My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}

TW: the following Chapters contain molestation of a child, strong homophobic words, violence as well as attempted sexual assault. If any of these trigger you, please skip to Chapter 154.

Take care and stay safe.

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*Five years ago*

I stood there in the cramped living room of our little house, my heart racing as I faced my father, David. He loomed over me, broad shoulders hunched and that familiar scowl etched across his face. At fourteen, I felt minuscule during these moments, especially with his disheveled brown hair framing dark eyes that seemed to see right through anyone who dared to meet them.

Those eyes were now fixed on me, burning with an anger that thickened the air, making me tremble as tears welled up and streamed down my cheeks, blurring my vision as I turned my head to escape his glare.

"Why can’t you just act like a normal boy, Noah?" he shouted, his voice rumbling like thunder and bouncing off the aging wallpaper. His fists were clenched, knuckles white, and I could smell the mix of diesel and sweat that clung to him after long hauls as a truck driver.

Thank goodness he wasn’t around much; the rare times he was away were the only moments I felt I could breathe freely. But when he was home, everything shifted. The atmosphere turned icy, like a storm cloud hovering above us, and I felt trapped, every breath shallow as if a misstep would ignite an explosion.

My mother, Helen, was probably still at the hair salon, her job as a hairdresser keeping her out during the day but not shielding either of us from these eruptions.

If I played my part just right, things were bearable. I carefully selected clothes that covered me completely, long sleeves and baggy jeans even in summer, to avoid any comments about looking "soft" or "like a damn girl."