Girlfriend's Little Brother Pt. 01

"Did she make that face like she's constipated and upset about it?"

I watched his features become pinched in mock anger and we both broke out in laughter at his impression.

"What were you two even fighting about?"

I shook my head and took another hit. "My fucking roommate."

"Your roommate?"

"Yeah. Well that's what it started as anyway. She doesn't really like him, or rather his girlfriend, I should say."

"Color me surprised," his voice dripped with sarcasm. "So what about your roommate and his girlfriend set her off?"

I sighed, "Your sister and I are throwing a party at my place this weekend, and out of politeness, I invited both of them."

He looked at me, waiting for more.

"That's it," I told him.

His eyebrows shot up. "That's why she's pissed?"

"Yup."

"Oh God," he rolled his eyes. "It's his apartment too. What, did she think you were supposed to just tell him about it and then not invite him at the very least?"

"That's what I said."

"Jesus," he muttered.

"And the worst part is, they aren't even coming."

"So why is she all pissed off then?"

"It's the principle of it according to her. I invited them knowing she doesn't get along with Justine, my roommate Matt's girlfriend."

He blinked rapidly, a look of incredulity on his face. "She needs to get over herself."

"From your mouth to God's ears," I muttered.

"So, is that why you've been spending more time here lately? Because she doesn't get along with Matt's girlfriend?"

"Partly. She doesn't like hanging around my place when they're there. But it's also because she's just gotten more clingy lately, almost like she wants all of my time and attention. And that's what the fight was really about, that and how I'm a shitty boyfriend for not giving it to her."

Evan winced and I shook my head in frustration before taking another hit.

"Well I think you're a good boyfriend, although if I'm being honest, I'd say that about anyone who manages to put up with Cara's bullshit."

I chuckled and he smiled at me.

"You know, you're real easy to talk to," I told him.

He gave me the side eye, "Why do you sound so surprised?"

I held up my hands, "Oh, no, I didn't mean--"

He broke out in a grin and thumped me on the shoulder, "I'm just fucking with you, dude."

I laughed, "You little shit."

"Sorry, couldn't resist."

"And after I've been so nice to you," I said in mock offense.

He laughed. "I know, I know. I was a bit standoffish when we first met."

"Bro," I deadpanned, "You acted like I had the plague or something."

His grin reached all the way up to his glassy, bloodshot eyes. "Alright, I guess I was kind of a prick."

"Uh-huh."

"You just intimidated me a little bit."

"How?"

"Well, I remembered you from high school, all tall and full of swagger. Made me nervous. Plus you used to hang out with those loud mouthed dipshits that were on the baseball team with you."

I felt a little embarrassed, mostly since I still hung out with some of those guys.

"They weren't all bad," I reasoned.

"True. You're not the asshole I initially took you for."

"Gee, thanks."

He smiled at me and I smiled back. We lapsed into silence for a few seconds, the bowl now full of ashes, some smoke still lingering lazily around us.

"Man, you keep it steamy in here," I eventually said, noticing how warm I'd become.

"Sorry, I get really cold," he reached to turn off the heater.

"Yeah, 'cause your a fucking toothpick."

"I'm actually a broomstick, thank you very much."

I laughed as I grabbed the bottom of my hoodie and began pulling it over my head. As I did, I felt the shirt underneath ride up along with it, exposing my stomach.

Cursing, I struggled in my seat until I managed finally to wriggle out of it. As I did, I noticed Evan's eyes trained down, his gaze focused intently on my taut, defined abs and the line of fine brown hair that ran down the center of my abdomen. He immediately looked away, but not quickly enough to avoid being detected, the weed having apparently dulled his response time.

His pale cheeks burned bright red with embarrassment as he avoided my gaze, and I smiled to myself, amused. I knew Evan was gay, Cara had told me before she'd introduced us, I just had never caught him checking me out before.

It didn't bother me the way I knew it would bother some other guys. Truth be told, I actually took it as a compliment, and Evan's reaction to being caught, how he'd blushed so intensely and shyly looked away, was kind of endearing, adorable in a way.

Seeing how flustered he was, I opted not to follow my initial instincts and poke fun of him, choosing instead to make a suggestion.

"Damn, I got the munchies real bad. You up for grabbing something to eat?"

He smiled at me, and I knew I'd made the right decision to not tease him by the grateful look on his face.

"Yeah, I'm starving. Mel's?"

"Mel's sounds fucking great right now."

"Sweet."

We put our seatbelts on and he grabbed his phone, his thumb flicking over the screen for a few seconds before music began to fill the car. I tilted my head in recognition at the song's opening bars before singing along with the first verse.

"No way you listen to Mac de Marco," Evan said.

I kept going, looking at him expectantly until he finally opened his mouth and joined in. Soon we were belting out the chorus before breaking off in a fit of laughter.

He threw the car in reverse and backed out the driveway. We continued badly singing along to each song the entire way to the diner.

-----

Cara and I made up the next day, although without really addressing the issues that had led to us fighting in the first place.

In an effort to appease her, I started spending even more time at Cara's place, which helped a bit as she seemed to ease up on the clinginess.

The silver lining was that I got to spend more time with Evan. If Cara was getting ready or had fallen asleep before me, I'd slip down to the basement to hang out with him. We'd play video games or watch anime, sometimes sneaking out to smoke in his car and out on the deck when it warmed up enough.

He even began hanging out with the two of us more, something that I think irked Cara, but I hesitated bringing it up. They had a very complicated relationship, something that I'd picked up on over the last few months, and I decided it would be best not to prod either of them over it.

After that night in his car, I never caught Evan checking me out again. I figured it was just an in the moment thing, that when my shirt rode up in such a close space his eyes naturally wandered. It was several weeks later when I found out he was much more discreet than I had realized.

It was early in the evening on a Friday. Cara and I were the only ones at her house. She had just gotten out of the shower and was getting ready for our date in the bathroom.

"Hey Cara," I called out from her bedroom.

"Yeah?"

"Where's your charger?"

"Is it not beside my bed?"

"No," I answered, shifting through the items on her nightstand in case I missed it.

"Check Evan's room. He might've taken it."

I headed into Evan's bedroom next door. The curtains were partially drawn, obscuring some of the light from the setting sun. The dark blue walls were covered in various prints and drawings. I looked them over briefly, wondering if any of the illustrations were his.

An unmade bed was pushed into a corner and on the desk next to it, I spied Cara's phone charger. I took several steps forward and reached out to grab the white block and cord when I noticed Evan's sketchbook next to it.

Trying and failing to remember the last time he showed me what he was working on, I gingerly lifted the sketchbook up, my curiosity piqued.

Flipping a few pages, I came across the sketch of Cara and I that he showed us that day in the living room. Seeing that he had left it unfinished reminded me of the hurt look on his face after she had insulted the drawing as well as his artistic ability, and I felt a pang of sadness in my chest.

I continued flipping through his sketches, once again amazed at the detail of each drawing, until I came to one that made me pause. It was of me, a side profile from the night we first smoked in his car. It wasn't as detailed as the other sketches, which made me think he drew it from memory, but it was definitely me; smiling down at the bowl clasped in my hands.

I stared at the drawing a few more moments before flipping the page, stumbling on several more sketches. They were smaller, and again, less detailed, but all of them were of me; laughing, smiling, deep in thought.

I marveled at his ability to draw such a likeness just from memory, even if these sketches lacked the fine detail that the others had, while at the same time feeling flattered to have been the subject of several of his drawings.

"Did you find it?" I heard Cara's footsteps as she padded up beside me.

Quietly looking down at the sketches for several seconds, she then snorted and said, "Looks like someone has a little crush."

I swore I detected just a hint of jealousy beneath her sarcastic tone, but opted to say nothing, flipping the page instead and coming to the last sketch in the book, one much more striking than the previous few.

Like the others, it was also of me, but instead of being drawn from memory, this appeared to have been drawn in person. I recognized the image from a night last week when Evan and I were watching anime down in the basement. I remembered him having his sketchbook out, but I assumed he was drawing one of the characters from the show that was playing.

In the drawing, I was splayed out lazily on the couch in joggers and a tank top, one leg hanging off with my foot planted on the ground and the other stretched out in front of me. My hands were clasped together behind my head as I rested it against a pillow while staring at the screen through heavy eyelids.

What was so striking about this sketch wasn't just the level of detail. Sure, he had managed to capture more by drawing in person: the stubble along my jaw, the bit of happy trail that poked out from beneath the hem of my tank top, the drowsiness on my face.

No, what was so striking about this image in particular was the emphasis he'd put on certain parts of my body; the muscle of my biceps as they curved outward, the broad, firm surface of my chest straining against the tank top containing it, and, most notably, the bulge from my cock along the inseam of my joggers.

The lines of each of these areas were drawn darker and more carefully than others, making them stand out, especially my bulge, which seemed to be the focal point of the sketch and gave the entire drawing a sensual, almost erotic, quality.

I was absolutely blown away by the entire thing. It really showed just how talented Evan was as an artist. But it also made his feelings quite obvious, something that was not lost on me or Cara, who inhaled sharply beside me.

"Horny little pervert," she muttered, a touch of venom in her voice.

"We shouldn't be snooping," I replied, shutting the book quickly and setting it down.

"You were the one that was looking through it when I came in," she accused.

"I know," I said, grabbing the charger, "but it was the wrong thing to do, looking at something so private."

She snorted. "It's only private 'cause he sketched his dirty little fantasy inside."

"Still though, we need to leave it be."

But she wasn't listening, instead staring off in thought. I could see her mind turning over, and she crossed her arms, a small, fiendish smirk appearing on her face.

"I'm gonna give him so much shit for this," Cara said, mostly to herself.

I suddenly pictured Evan's face, clouded with shame, embarrassment, and anger as she ridiculed him for his drawing, and barked out, "Cara!"

"What?" She snapped out of whatever she was imagining and looked up.

"Don't," I told her.

"Why not?"

"Because he's your brother."

"...And?" She said it like the fact that they were related didn't matter at all.

I sighed, "Fine, then because I'm asking you not to."

She held eye contact with me, her gaze intense and searching. "Please," I added.

Finally, after several long moments, she said, "Alright, I won't say anything."

I let out a small breath of relief I didn't know I was holding.

"If," she continued, "you agree to go to the lake with Emily and Jordan."

I groaned internally. Emily was Cara's cousin and a self absorbed bitch. I couldn't stand her, or her dumbass boyfriend, Jordan, which is why I had refused their offer when they invited us to go down to Emily's parent's lake house for Jordan's birthday. But for whatever reason, her and Cara were close, and she had been looking for a way to try and get me to agree to go, which had evidently just presented itself.

I didn't know why I felt so protective of Evan. I genuinely liked him, I really did. We got along well and he was really fun to be around. Hell, I'm happy to call that little shit my friend. I often found myself sticking up for him if Cara was being too harsh or offering words of comfort when I saw he'd had his feelings hurt by one of her off handed barbs. But it was right then that I realized just how much I actually liked the guy, and how badly I didn't want to see him hurt or embarrassed.

"Ok," I said, evenly.

Her face broke out in a grin, "Excellent! I'll let Emily know."

She turned and strode triumphantly from the room. I let out a long sigh and followed her, stopping to close the door. As I did, my eye caught the sketchbook on Evan's desk once more, and the knowledge of its contents made me smile softly to myself for just a second. Then I quietly tugged the door shut behind me

------

True to her word, Cara said nothing to Evan about the discovery made in his sketchbook, although she did act a bit more frosty towards him than she usually did, which he always dismissed with a dramatic roll of his eyes. But her behavior wasn't anything so unusual as to set off alarm bells that something was wrong.

So, I begrudgingly endured an entire weekend spent with her, Emily, and Jordan. In truth, it wasn't as bad as I had anticipated, mostly due to the excessive amount of alcohol I drank to make dealing with being there easier.

Ever since I found those drawings, I searched for any indication of the feelings carved so ardently in Evan's sketchbook, finding none. The kid had a great poker face, giving absolutely nothing away while we hung out together. If it hadn't been for those drawings, I wouldn't have guessed at all how he felt.

So, our friendship continued on as normal, hanging out and playing video games or watching anime while occasionally sneaking out to smoke weed, until one night in mid April.

Cara and I got back to her place after a late dinner. Both of us had a decent amount to drink at the restaurant, and we went right to sleep as soon as we got up to her room.

I woke up several hours later, severely parched. Turning over, I realized that Cara was not in bed beside me. I tapped my phone on the nightstand and saw that it was a quarter to three in the morning.

Climbing bleary eyed out of bed, I stumbled my way down to the kitchen for some water. The house was dead quiet as I padded silently through the living room, half asleep. Rounding the corner, I stopped dead in the entryway to the kitchen.

Diagonally across from me, the bottom half of a person emerged from a narrow gap between the open pantry door and its frame. They were bent over at the waist as they rooted around deep inside, their top half obscured, and I was greeted by a pair of long, smooth legs atop of which sat a round, voluptuous ass, emerging from the bottom of an oversized t-shirt and clad in a pair of red, lace panties.

I felt my dick twitch in my shorts staring at the two pale globes, barely contained by the panties that encased them and practically glowing from the light of the full moon that flooded the room, as they jiggled slightly from movement.

Striding forward, I was completely focused on the perky, shapely ass in front of me, which slowly took up my entire field of vision as I approached. Stopping only a few inches away, my eyes traced the sloping curves of soft, pale flesh scantily clad in thin, red fabric. Unable to help myself, I wound my hand back and brought it forward, delivering a harsh smack to the bottom of the ass cheeks that appeared to be almost hovering before me.

I was rewarded with the ripple of alabaster skin and a startled yelp from inside the pantry. My fingers gently grazed the smooth, ivory surface of the twin orbs I had just violated as I took ahold of one.

"You know, baby, if you're still hungry, I've got some dick I could feed you," I roughly squeezed the creamy asscheek in my hand and felt my dick twitch once more.

Several long, still seconds passed before the pantry door was pushed open from the inside, and I looked down at the shocked face of Evan, his head swiveled around to face me while the soft glimmer from his phone's flashlight illuminated the blond curls around his face.

I stared in confusion and felt my brain whirling as it attempted to connect the feeling of the silky, round asscheek in my hand and the surprised face of my girlfriend's little brother staring back at me.

The pieces finally came together in a quick, harsh snap of realization, and my mouth fell open.

"Holy shit," I said in bewilderment. "Evan, I... I'm--"

It was then that I realized I still had his ass gripped tightly in my hand and let go, taking several steps back as he straightened up in a slow, stiff manner.

"Evan," I repeated, "I am so, so sorry. I thought-- It was dark. I-I just saw the panties and your-- I mean, I saw... you and thought it was Cara. She usually sleeps in one of my t-shirts and..."

My rambling trailed off as I noticed Evan, eyes cast down and cheeks aflame, fidgeting in front of me as he stood hunched over a bit, his body partially turned away. I looked at him more closely for a moment, confused, before it eventually dawned on me, and then I understood; Evan had an erection.

He had an erection and was trying to hide it. That's why he was so embarrassed, not because I'd slapped and groped his ass by mistake, but because it had turned him on.

My wide eyes sought his but he seemed to almost recoil from my gaze, clearly ashamed at my discovery. I opened my mouth to speak, unsure of exactly what I would say, but instead, he blurted out, "Please don't tell Cara."

Then he made a quick exit, brushing past me and leaving the scent of lavender to linger behind as I stood alone in the kitchen, stunned. My mind struggled to process everything that had transpired while I slowly shuffled back up to Cara's room in a daze, no longer thirsty. She was lying under the covers in the bed as I mechanically climbed in next to her, settling on my back. I felt her stir as I stared up at the ceiling, now wide awake.

"Where were you," she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep, "I came back from the bathroom and you were gone."

It took me a second to process her words before I answered absentmindedly, "I went to get water."

She uttered a grunt of acknowledgement and turned over, her back now to me. Laying there in the dark, it felt as if my brain were in a fog, the minutes slowly ticking by as I replayed what had just happened over and over, contemplating how I had wound up mistaking Evan's ass for Cara's, the way it had felt clutched tightly in my hand, and above all, the throbbing hardon I'd had since.

My dick ached as it strained against the front of my boxer briefs, begging for relief which I had been resisting to provide. I kept my hands at my sides, trying to ignore the strong pulsing in my groin, my cock so swollen it practically hurt.

Finally, I couldn't take it any longer. Desperate to alleviate the tension between my legs, I glanced at Cara to check on her still form and slow, heavy breathes before slowly climbing to my feet.