Alex gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as his old Corolla rattled over another pothole, the suspension groaning like it shared his unease. The backroad was exactly as he remembered it, narrow, winding, and forgotten. Golden-brown leaves, stubborn holdouts from fall, skittered across the cracked asphalt in the wake of his tires. No one took this route anymore; the new highway shaved forty minutes off the drive from campus. But Alex never did. He liked the quiet, the way the bare trees arched overhead like they were keeping secrets. It gave him time to think, to breathe, to settle the restless energy that always buzzed under his skin after a long semester.
He shifted in the seat, the sleeves of his faded university swim team hoodie riding up to reveal thick forearms corded with muscle from thousands of hours flipping turns in the pool. At 6'2", he filled the small car more than it was designed for, broad shoulders brushing the door panel, long legs folded to reach the pedals. His dark blond hair was still damp at the ends from the quick shower he'd taken before leaving the dorm, curling slightly against the collar of his hoodie. A faint shadow of stubble dusted his jaw; he hadn't bothered to shave in days. Finals week did that to him.
The nervousness sat low in his stomach, a quiet knot he couldn't quite untie. Dad's wedding had been only three weeks ago, a small, warm affair in the backyard with string lights and too much laughter. Alex liked Sarah immediately. She had an easy smile and a way of teasing his dad that made the old man blush like a teenager. Seeing his father happy again, really happy, had felt like exhaling after holding his breath for years.
But then there was Harry.
Alex's thumb tapped a slow rhythm on the wheel as he pictured the kid, because yeah, at barely eighteen, Harry still felt like a kid, even if the calendar said otherwise. At the wedding, Harry had hovered on the edges of everything, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his too-big dress pants, shoulders curved inward like he was trying to take up less space. He'd barely spoken, answering questions with soft mumbles and quick nods. Alex had tried, God, he'd tried, to draw him out. A joke about the over-the-top strawberry cake Dad insisted on ("Seriously, who needs five tiers for fifty people?"). A question about school, about swimming (Sarah had mentioned Harry ran track). But every attempt bounced off that quiet shell. And yet.
Harry's face kept sliding into Alex's thoughts at odd moments. The wayhis cheeks had dimpled, deep, surprising dimples, when Sarah pulled him into a hug. How those big brown eyes had gone comically wide at the sight of the cake, like he'd never seen anything so extravagant. There'd been something unguarded in that look, a flicker of pure wonder that made Alex's chest tighten in a way he couldn't name. He shook his head slightly, exhaling through his nose. Don't overthink it. The kid was shy. New family. Big changes. Of course, he'd been quiet.
The turn snuck up on him, half-hidden by overgrown boxwoods. Alex braked harder than necessary, tires crunching over gravel as the Corolla dipped into the long driveway. The undercarriage scraped ominously against the rise, same spot, every damn time, and he winced. The house came into view: two stories of solid red brick, white shutters, the wide front porch where he'd spent countless evenings doing homework or icing sore shoulders after practice. Home.
He killed the engine and sat for a moment, letting the quiet settle. Through the windshield, he could see the faint glow of lights in the living room windows. Someone was home. Probably Sarah, maybe Dad. Maybe Harry.
Alex drew a slow breath, rolled his shoulders once like he was at the blocks before a race, and climbed out of the car. The cold December air bit at his cheeks as he slung his duffel over one shoulder. Boots crunching on frozen gravel, he headed toward the porch, steady, deliberate steps, the way he approached everything. Alex got out of his car, Alex pushed open the front door, the familiar creak of hinges welcoming him like an old friend. The house smelled ofcinnamon and simmering tomatoes, holiday warmth already thick in the air.Before he could even kick off his boots, Sarah swept in from the hallway, arms outstretched, pulling him into a hug that squeezed the last of the road chill from his bones.
She was a vision of cozy elegance, mid-forties but carrying it like someone who'd danced through life without a care. Soft auburn curls framed her heart-shaped face, pinned back loosely with a few strands escaping to brush her freckled cheeks. Her green eyes sparkled with genuine delight, crinkling at the corners, and she wore a simple red sweater that hugged her curves just enough to hint at the yoga-toned figure beneath, paired with jeans dusted faintly with flour. A delicate silver necklace, a locket, probably with Harry's photo inside, dipped into the V of her collar. She smelled like vanilla and garlic, the kind of scent that promised home-cooked comfort.
"Alex! Oh, honey, you're finally here," she said, holding him at arm's length to look him up and down, her hands lingering on his biceps with maternal approval. "Look at you, bigger every time. Swim team's treating you right?"
He chuckled, the sound low and easy, bending down to plant a quick kiss on her cheek. "Yeah, Sarah. Coach is a tyrant, but it keeps me out of trouble. Finals wrecked me, though, psych papers piling up like laps in a 500 free."
She laughed, a bright, melodic thing, swatting his arm playfully as she led him inside. "Psychology, huh? You'll fix us all one day. Your dad was just bragging about your last meet, said you shaved two seconds off your personal best. Proud doesn't cover it."
They chatted as he shrugged off his hoodie, revealing a fitted black t-shirt stretched across his broad chest and the V-taper of his swimmer's torso, veins faintly visible on his forearms from gripping the wheel too long. Small talk flowed, campus food sucking, the dorm's leaky roof, her latest book club drama, until he glanced around the empty living room.
"Where's Dad?"
Sarah waved a hand toward the back, grinning. "Oh, you know him, always fiddling in that garden out back. Won't let the frost chase him off. Go drag him in before he turns into a carrot himself." She turned toward the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "I'm making your favorite, spaghetti Bolognese. Extra meat sauce, just how you like it. It'll be ready in an hour!"
Alex's laugh rumbled again, warm gratitude settling in his chest. "You're a saint, Sarah." He toed off his boots by the door, habit from years of tracking in mud, then headed through the mudroom toward the back. As he passed the staircase, faint footsteps creaked overhead on the second floor: soft, hesitant thuds, like someone pacing but trying not to be heard. Harry. A flicker of that unexplained pull tugged at him again, but he pushed it down, sliding open the glass door to the vast backyard. The view hit him like always, rolling hills of winter-pasture stretchingout, dotted with black Angus cattle huddled against the December chillunder a pale afternoon sky. Frost rimed the split-rail fences, and the air carried the earthy tang of turned soil mixed with distant hay. Wealth had never felt flashy here; it was in the land, the herd numbering in the hundreds, the farmhands visible now in the pasture to the right, three of them on ATVs, checking fences and hay bales, their breath puffing like smoke signals.
Dad's operation pulled seven figures easy, but Mason had raised Alex with calloused hands and chores, never a silver spoon. "Earn it, son," he'd say, handing over a shovel instead of a credit card. It built character, or so the old man claimed. A gruff yell cut through the quiet before Alex spotted him. "Boy! Get over here and gimme a hand pullin' these carrots 'fore they freeze solid!"
Mason stood knee-deep in the garden plot, a hulking figure at 6'4" even in his sixties, weathered like old saddle leather. His face was all hard angles under a battered Stetson, stern gray eyes shadowed by bushy brows, a salt-and-pepper beard trimmed close, jaw set like he was chewing gravel. Wranglers tucked into scuffed boots, a faded flannel shirt rolled to elbows revealing forearms roped with veins from decades wrestling steers and tilling soil.
He looked the part of the old Western cattle baron: broad as a barn door, hands like hams that could snap a fence post or cradle a newborn calf with equal gentleness. Cattle farming had been his blood since boyhood, but the garden? That was his soul, rows of veggies thriving where lesser men saw weeds, a luxury afforded by hiring out the ranch work to those farmhands Alex eyed.
Alex grinned, loping over with that swimmer's powerful stride, his long legs eating up the frosty grass. "Miss me already, old man? Carrots in December? You're hopeless."
Mason straightened, dirt-caked gloves flexing as he clapped a massive hand on Alex's shoulder, firm enough to steady a spooked horse, but the squeeze lingered soft, affectionate. "Hopeless? These'll be sweeter than store-bought. Pull, don't yank, twist 'em gentle."
They worked side by side, knees bent, the rhythm familiar as breathing. Small talk filled the air: Dad ribbing him about dorm life ("Still eatin' that rabbit food?"), Alex updating on meets. Mason's laugh boomed once, deep and rare, when Alex mimicked Coach's whistle.
The conversation lulled as they stood, baskets brimming with mud-streaked carrots. Mason wiped his brow with a forearm, turning those piercing eyes on his son, stern mask cracking to reveal the soft heart beneath, the one that had buried a wife too young, raised a boy alone, and now chased happiness with Sarah.
"Listen, son," Mason said, voice dropping gravel-low, hand still heavy on Alex's shoulder. "I know you and Harry ain't exactly best friends yet. Barely said two words at the weddin'. But could you try talkin' to him? Make a connection?" He paused, gaze drifting to the hills like he wasweighing old ghosts. "He ain't had an easy life, won't go into details, that's his story. But I think he could really use a real brother to lean on. A stepbrother'll have to do."
Alex nodded slowly, the weight of it settling alongside that nagging curiosity about the quiet kid upstairs. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the pull of muscle under his shirt, and met his dad's eyes, steady, thoughtful promise in his own. "Yeah, Dad. I'll try."
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Alex shouldered his duffel bag and climbed the stairs, the old wooden steps groaning under his weight like they remembered every summer he'd bounded up them as a kid. The hallway smelled faintly of pine cleaner and the cinnamon candles Sarah loved, holidays already seeping into the air.
He paused at his bedroom door, the faded sticker of a shark fin still peeling from where he'd slapped it on at twelve, and turned the knob. Inside, time had stood still. The twin bed with its navy comforter, the desk cluttered with dusty swim goggles and a stack of old psych textbooks from freshman year. Trophies lined the shelves, gold and silver gleaming under a thin layer of dust, medals dangling from hooks like forgotten laurels: state champion in the 200 free, nationals relay team, all the way back to junior league participation cups. He hadn't lived here full-time since packing for college three years ago, but as a junior now, the room felt like a snapshot of a smaller life, one that fit him once but pinched at the edges.
He set the bag down by the desk, his fingers brushing over the framed photos lined up like sentinels. Teammates mid-laugh at a post-meet pizza party, family shots from hikes in the hills, Dad's arm around his shoulders in one. Then the one that always pulled a wry chuckle: high school graduation, him towering in that ill-fitting gown, grinning beside a pretty blonde with sun-kissed curls and a dress that matched the spring flowers. Chloe. He'd been so damn sure back then, whispered futures in her ear, hands intertwined like they'd never let go. A month later, it shattered; she headed to the coast for college, he realized his heart wasn't in it anyway. But the photo stayed. In the corner, almost out of frame, his mom beamed weakly from her wheelchair, cheeks hollow but eyes fierce with pride. She'd fought through chemo to make it, slipping out of the hospital for one last milestone before the breast cancer claimed her that summer. The memory stung, a quiet ache he let linger before exhaling it out, shoulders rolling like he was shaking off water after a dive.
Enough reminiscing. The garden work had left him grimy, sweat cooling sticky under his clothes. He grabbed a towel from the closet, the same threadbare one from his old swim bag, and crossed the hall to the bathroom. Parents had their en suite downstairs, so this one had always been his territory; no need to knock. He twisted the knob, stepping into the familiar space: white tiles, the light already on, buzzing softly overhead. The inner door to the toilet and shower was shut, probably from earlier use. He clicked the outer door closed behind him, the lock snicking into place.
A quick shower before dinner sounded perfect. He tugged his black t-shirt over his head, the fabric catching on damp hair before peeling free, exposing the broad sweep of his chest, pecs firm and defined from endless pull-ups, rising with each steady breath. His abs etched a tight six-pack, honed by core work that never let up, dipping into the sharp V of his hips. At 6'2" and built solid from years in the water, his body moved with purposeful grace: shoulders rounded with muscle, arms flexing as he folded the shirt, a faint trail of dark blond hair leading down from his navel.
Jeans rasped down next, button popping, zipper sliding, fabric bunching over powerful thighs, quads, and hamstrings thick from kicks and squats, calves knotted like coiled springs. He stepped out, boxers following, leaving him bare: skin tanned from outdoor practices, ass firm and rounded with a subtle curve that flexed as he shifted weight, cheeks smooth and taut over the muscle beneath. His cock hung heavy and inviting between his legs, uncut, thick even soft, about five inches with a gentle curve downward, the foreskin velvety and gathered loosely over the plump, rosy head that peeked just a hint when he moved. It swayed with a natural heft, veins subtle along the shaft like faint ridges under the skin, leading to balls low and full, nestled in a soft nest of trimmed dark blond hair that accentuated their weight and the way they shifted against his inner thighs.
A stray thought flickered as he stood there, naked and alone, or so he assumed. Finals had been a grind; between papers, practices, and cramming sessions, he hadn't jerked off in weeks. The realization hit with a low throb, his hand drifting down. Fingers wrapped around the base of his shaft, thumb brushing the sensitive skin, and he felt the ache in his full balls, tight, heavy, begging for release. A soft groan escaped him as blood stirred, his mass starting to swell, thickening in his grip. Not fully hard, but semi-erect now, six inches and growing, the foreskin pulling back slightly to reveal more of the glistening head, a bead of pre-cum forming at the slit from the brief tease.
He released with a shaky breath, shaking his head at himself, save it for later. He gripped the inner door and swung it open, ready to handle business then hit the hot water.
But there stood Harry on the bathtub, pants pooled at his ankles, big brown eyes snapping wide, cheeks blooming red as his gaze locked on Alex's naked frame. He seemed to be examining these freckles, no, they were scars that dotted his skin. Bewilderment twisted his features with his mouth agape. As his eyes found Alex's dick swinging, they grew big and bright, just as they did when he saw the cake on Mason and Sarah's wedding night.
Alex jerked back, heart thudding, bare feet skidding on the cool tile, arms windmilling for a split-second balance. "Harry—shit!" The words tumbled out rough, surprise heating his face as his dick flopped with the abrupt motion, slapping lightly against his thigh before settling, the air between them suddenly electric with unintended exposure.
Harry spun around as fast as he could to face the wall, shoulders hunched, pants still tangled at his ankles, his bare back to Alex in a desperate bid for modesty. The move hid his front, sure, but it left everything else on full display: that ass, pale and perfectly rounded like it had been sculpted for stolen glances in locker rooms or late-night fantasies. It was the definition of a bubble butt if there ever was one, flawless skin glowing under the harsh bathroom light, cheeks plump and perky with just the right jiggle from his hurried twist, dimples at the base of his spine dipping into a subtle curve that screamed innocence wrapped in temptation. Firm, yet soft-looking enough to beg for a squeeze, the cleft between them shadowed invitingly, a faint peach fuzz trailing down from his lower back.
Alex's breath caught, his semi-hard cock twitching involuntarily at the sight, but guilt crashed in hot on its heels. What the hell was he thinking? This is your stepbrother, he thought. Even more than that, he's a guy. Alex had a rush of new feelings and thoughts, but this was neither the time nor the place. "Harry, I'm sorry," Harry muttered first, voice high and cracked, fumbling blindly for his pants without turning back. He yanked them up in a frantic scramble, zipper rasping unevenly, belt buckle clinking as he snatched his phone from the floor.
Shoulders still rigid, he sidestepped toward the door, eyes fixed on the wall like it held salvation, mumbling another "Sorry, sorry" under his breath before bolting out, the door slamming shut behind him with an echo that rattled the mirror. Alex stood there frozen, heart pounding in the sudden silence, water from the sink dripping like a metronome as the steam from his interrupted plans fogged the edges of his vision. What the hell just happened?
Alex snatched his discarded t-shirt from the bathroom floor in a blur. The fabric was still warm from his body. He bolted across the hall to his bedroom. The door slammed shut behind him with more force than intended. He leaned against it for a second. His heart was still hammering like he'd just finished a sprint set. His breath came in sharp pulls. The room spun a little. Shit. Harry had seen him completely butt-ass naked. Semi-hard, no less. Fuck. The kid's face. Those wide brown eyes ballooning in shock. Cheeks flushing like he'd walked in on a live wire. It should have been mortifying. Hilarious even. But Alex's mind raced down a different track.
Why the hell had he reacted like that? He'd seen his roommate naked a dozen times. Post-shower towel drops. Drunken dorm antics. It was nothing. Just bros being dudes. But Harry. That slim frame twisting away. Hiding his front but baring everything else. That ass. God. It was prettier than any girl's he'd hooked up with on campus. And he'd had his share. Late-night study breaks turning into tangled sheets with sorority types who eyed his swimmer's build like a prize. But Harry's? It curved into perfect globes. Smooth and pale. Firm from whatever running he did but with that soft, inviting jiggle when he'd spun to face the wall. Enticing did not cover it. It pulled at something deep. Making Alex's stomach twist in a way that was not just surprise.
Was Harry gay? The thought flashed hot. Uninvited. Those dimples flashing in his mind from the wedding. Now paired with that bewildered stare fixed on Alex's dick. What the hell am I thinking? I like girls. These were just intrusive thoughts. Random firings in a stressed-out brain. But the growing bulge in his pants betrayed that line of thinking. Thickening insistently against his thigh. A low throb that demanded attention.
Alex shook his head hard. Trying to scatter the images. But he knew he had to take care of his dick before heading down for dinner. No way he could sit through spaghetti with this distraction. He flopped onto the bed. The mattress creaked under his weight. He yanked his jeans open. Shoving them down just enough to free himself. His cock sprang out. Already hard and straining. The foreskin pulled back from the swollen head. Shiny with pre-cum that beaded at the slit. He wrapped a hand around the shaft. Thick fingers gripping firm. The ache in his balls intensified. Full and heavy from weeks of neglect.
He grabbed his phone with his free hand. Thumbed open Twitter. Scrolling quickly for some quick porn. A go-to account with clips of curvy women bouncing. Moaning. But the videos blurred. His mind kept overlaying Harry's slim frame. That ass jiggling again. Pale cheeks parting just a hint in his imagination. He stroked slowly at first. Base to tip. Feeling the veins pulse under his palm. The heat building. But the porn did nothing. Harry's big brown eyes kept flashing. Wide with shock. Cute in that flustered way. Dimples hidden but imagined. Alex's pace quickened. Hand pumping faster. Twisting at the head. His breath hitched. Hips bucking up into his fist. Fuck. Why Harry? Why my stepbrother? Shy and untouched. That perfect bubble butt clenching as he fled. It pushed him over the edge. His balls tightened. A groan ripped from his throat as he came in an explosion. Thick ropes of cum splattering his abs. His chest. Pulse after pulse. More intense than any campus hookup. Fueled by the forbidden image of Harry.
He lay there panting. Cum cooling sticky on his skin. The high crashed fast. Replaced by a sour twist in his gut. What the fuck was that? Harry was family now. Barely eighteen. Shy as hell. And Alex had just jerked off to him like some creep. Guilt wormed in. Hot and uncomfortable. He wiped up with the t-shirt. Tossed it aside. Staring at the ceiling. This was a one-off. Had to be. Intrusive thoughts. Nothing more. He pulled his pants up. Splashed water on his face in the sink. And headed downstairs. Forcing a neutral smile for dinner. But the unease lingered. A quiet shadow in the back of his mind.
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Downstairs, the dining room glowed under the soft chandelier light. Sarah had outdone herself with the spread: a steaming pot of spaghetti Bolognese at the center, rich meat sauce bubbling with herbs and chunks of ground beef. Garlic bread sliced thick and golden flanked it. A crisp green salad tossed with cherry tomatoes and feta sat beside a bottle of red wine already half-poured into glasses. The tablecloth was festive. Red with subtle snowflake patterns. Everything smelled incredible. Warm and savory. The kind of meal that wrapped around you like a hug after a long drive.
Alex slid into his usual seat across from where Harry already sat. Fork in hand but eyes downcast. He avoided meeting those big brown eyes. The ones that had gone wide upstairs. Instead, he focused on twirling pasta onto his fork. The sauce clung perfectly. Tangy and hearty. He took a bite. Delicious as promised. But his mind buzzed. That awkward flash in the bathroom replayed in snippets. Harry's flushed cheeks. That jiggle. He shoved the thought down. Forced a neutral nod when Sarah beamed at him from her end of the table.
Mason carved into his plate with gusto. His deep voice rumbling as he wiped sauce from his beard. "This is top-notch, Sarah. Reminds me of that trip we took to Italy last summer. Remember the little place next to our hotel in Florence?" He glanced at Harry. Who poked at his food quietly. "Speaking of trips. How's school treating you, Harry? Classes winding down before break?"
Harry looked up. His fork pausing mid-twirl. Cheeks tinting pink under the attention. "Um. Pretty good. Finals were tough. But I think I aced them."
Mason chuckled. A proud glint in his stern eyes. "Tough? This boy's first in his class. Straight A's across the board. Teachers say he'll likely snag valedictorian come spring. Smart as a whip. Just like his mom here." He winked at Sarah. Who laughed softly. Reaching over to squeeze Harry's hand.
Harry's face deepened to crimson. He ducked his head but could not hide the growing smile spreading across his lips, giving way to those famous dimples. "It's not that big a deal. I just study a lot." Admitting the smarts without bravado. He straightened a bit. Gaining steam. "I've been reading this new book though. It's called 'The Midnight Library.' About choices and alternate lives. Kinda makes you think about what-ifs. You know? Oh and this new game i just got is so fun..."
Alex nodded politely. Still avoiding direct eye contact. But listening. The family chatter flowed easy. Sarah sharing how Harry had helped her bake cookies for the neighbors earlier. Mason recounting a funny story about one of the farmhands getting chased by a feisty calf that morning. Laughter rippled around the table. Harry opened up more. Mentioning his track meets. How he preferred long-distance runs because they cleared his head. And a podcast he liked on history mysteries. His voice soft but steady. Big brown eyes lighting up when he talked about a unsolved code from World War II.
Sarah leaned in then. Her auburn curls catching the light as she topped off glasses. "Oh. Harry. Tell Alex where you're applying for college. He's got the inside scoop on one of them."
Harry hesitated. Fork scraping his plate. Then met Alex's gaze for the first time since the bathroom. A quick flicker before dropping away. "Um. A few places. But mainly Collins University. The same as you."
Alex's fork froze. A chunk of spaghetti lodged in his throat. He coughed hard. Choking for real as the words hit. Collins U? His school? The boy across the table. Shy Harry with the dimples and that ass. On his campus? He pounded his chest once. Forced the food down with a swig of wine. Then plastered on a smile. Wide and feigned. "That's great. Really. You'll love it there." His voice came out steady. But inside. His stomach flipped. The unease from upstairs twisting tighter.
As dinner wound down, plates scraped clean and wine glasses half-empty, Sarah stretched with a contented sigh, her chair pushing back from the table. "That hit the spot, didn't it? I'll handle the cleanup, boys. Your dad and I are beat from all the holiday prep. We'll tidy up quick and head to bed." She stood, stacking plates with efficient grace.
Mason nodded, his broad frame shifting as he wiped his mouth with a napkin, beard catching a stray crumb. "She's right. Early day tomorrow with the cattle check, storm's supposed to roll in overnight. But before you two scatter, Alex, why don't you meet Harry downstairs in the basement? He's got that new game he's been raving about. What was it, some racing thing? Show him how it's done." He winked then, subtle but unmistakable, that stern face cracking into a conspiratorial grin, a clear nod to their garden talk about bridging the gap with the shy kid.
Alex's fork paused mid-air, a last twist of pasta forgotten. The suggestion landed like a weight, his mind flashing back to the bathroom mishap, Harry's wide eyes, that jiggle. Downstairs. Alone. In the basement, with its dim lights and cozy setup, Harry's domain has been since the marriage. He swallowed, forcing a casual nod as heat crept up his neck. Reluctantly, he agreed, voice steady despite the knot in his gut. "Yeah, sure. Sounds fun. I'll head down in a bit."
Harry glanced up briefly, those big brown eyes meeting Alex's for a split second before darting away, cheeks tinting pink again. He mumbled something about setting it up, pushing back his chair and slipping from the table like a shadow.
Alex lingered a moment, helping clear a few dishes despite Sarah's protests, buying time as his parents shuffled toward the stairs. The house settled into quiet, the clink of plates in the sink fading. His pulse ticked up. What was he walking into? Just a game. That's all. He shook off the unease, rolled his shoulders, and headed for the basement door, the stairs creaking under his boots like a warning.
Alex descended the basement stairs, each step muffled by the thick carpet that lined them. The space opened up into a cozy den. Dim recessed lights cast a warm glow over the long sectional couch that dominated one wall. A massive flat-screen mounted opposite. Gaming consoles and controllers scattered on the coffee table like forgotten toys. Posters of sci-fi landscapes and band logos dotted the walls. Harry's touch since moving in. The air down here was cooler. Faintly scented with popcorn from some recent movie night.
Harry was already there. Curled into one end of the sectional. Controller in hand. Eyes fixed on the screen where explosions and gunfire popped in a frantic shooter game. His slim frame sank into the cushions. Knees drawn up. Big brown eyes narrowed in concentration under the hood of his sweatshirt.
Alex paused at the bottom step. His stomach twisting again. That bathroom scene looped in his head. He cleared his throat. Managed a feeble "Hey" that came out quieter than intended. Harry glanced over briefly. Nodding without pausing the game. Alex crossed the room. Sank into the opposite end of the couch. Leaving a safe cushion of space between them. He crossed his arms over his chest. Pretending interest in the TV as avatars dashed across a post-apocalyptic map. Bullets whizzing. Harry's thumbs flew over the buttons. Precise and quick. But the silence stretched. Thick with unspoken awkwardness. The kind that made every shift on the leather creak louder. Every breath feel amplified.
Minutes ticked by. Tension coiling like a spring. Alex rubbed the back of his neck. Unable to take it anymore. He leaned forward slightly. Elbows on knees. "Look. About upstairs. I'm sorry I walked in on you like that. I really hope I didn't scare you too bad. And I'm sorry you had to see me... you know. Like that." He gestured vaguely. Voice low but steady. "But plus. We're both guys. So it's no big deal. Me and my friends see each other naked all the time. Locker rooms. Whatever."
Harry's character ducked behind cover on screen. He looked over mid-game. A half-smile tugging at his lips. Dimples peeking just enough to soften his flushed cheeks. "It's alright." His voice was soft. Eyes flicking back to the action. But the words hung there. Easing the air a fraction.
Alex exhaled a huge sigh of relief. Shoulders slumping as the knot in his chest loosened. He sank back into the couch. A beat passed. The game's soundtrack filling the quiet. Then Harry piped up again. Controller still clicking. "Plus. You don't have anything to be self-conscious about." His gaze darted down quick. Landing on Alex's crotch for a split second before snapping away. Cheeks blooming redder. The implication clear.
Alex caught that quick glance from Harry. Something more seemed to flicker in it. A curiosity. Maybe even interest. But he brushed it off. Probably just the lingering weirdness from upstairs. He laughed softly. Rubbing the back of his neck with a humble shrug. "Yeah. I suppose I'm decently equipped down there. The girls I've been with haven't had any complaints."
Harry's fingers stilled on the controller. He pressed pause. The game's explosive sounds cut off sharply. Leaving the basement in a hush broken only by the low whir of the console. His big brown eyes met Alex's for a moment. Holding steady before he glanced away. A faint flush creeping up his neck.
Right then. The door at the top of the stairs creaked open. Sarah leaned in. Her voice carrying down with a yawn. "Just checking in. You two. We're off to bed now. Don't game all night. Okay? Sweet dreams."
"Night. Mom." Harry replied quietly.
"Good night." Alex added. His tone casual as the door clicked shut. Footsteps retreating upstairs.
Harry placed the controller on the coffee table. Turning to face Alex more directly on the couch. His knees shifted closer. Brushing the edge of the cushion between them. "So. You've hooked up with a bunch of girls. Then?"
The question caught Alex off guard. Sticking in his throat like a surprise gulp of water. He played it cool. Offering a lopsided grin and a shrug. "A few here and there. Yeah. Nothing crazy." Heat bloomed on his cheeks anyway. Turning them pink under the dim glow.
Harry fell silent for a beat. Fiddling with the hem of his sweatshirt. Eyes on his lap. Then he looked up again. Those wide brown eyes earnest and a little vulnerable. "Hey. Could you give me some advice on something?"
Alex swallowed. The air in the room feeling thicker all of a sudden. "Of course. Shoot."
Harry took a breath. His words tumbling out soft and hesitant. "Like. How does sex actually work? I've watched stuff online. But it seems so fake. I've never done it. And I'm worried I'll mess it up when the time comes."
Alex stared. Caught completely flat-footed by the directness. His mind blanked for a second. Flashing back to the bathroom incident. But he recovered. Keeping his voice even, though reluctance tugged at him. "Alright. Um. It's not like the videos at all. Those are over-the-top and not real. It's more about the vibe between you and the person. You take it slow. Start with making out. Exploring with your hands. Seeing what they like. Always ask if it's okay. Make sure you're both on the same page. Foreplay matters a lot. Kissing everywhere. Using your mouth down there if they're into it. Get things slippery and ready. Grab a condom. Lube too. Especially if it's the first time. When you get to the main part. Find a rhythm that works for both of you. Pay attention to their reactions. It's not a race. It's about feeling good together. Personally, I always start with fingering until she melts in my hands." He kept it straightforward. Almost like explaining a swim technique. But his pulse raced. The basement suddenly warmer as Harry's gaze stayed fixed on him. Soaking in every word.
Harry shifted on the couch. His slim frame leaning forward a bit more. Eyes still locked on Alex with that earnest glow. "I mean. Yeah. I know that stuff. But I feel like I need something more to calm me down before actually trying it. You know?"
Alex coughed. The words sticking in his dry throat. He nodded slowly. "Yeah. It would be nice. But I can't think of anything e—"
"You could show me!" Harry interrupted. Voice pitching up with sudden boldness. Big brown eyes widening as if surprised by his own words.
Flabbergasted. Alex jumped up from the couch. Heart slamming against his ribs. "What??" The word burst out sharper than intended. Towering over Harry in the dim basement light.
Harry shrank back instantly. Shoulders curling inward. That timid shell snapping shut like at the wedding. Face paling under the flush. "Never mind." He mumbled. Gaze dropping to the floor. Hands twisting in his lap again.
Guilt flooded Alex at the sight. Hot and twisting in his chest. The boy looked so small. Vulnerable. Like one wrong word could shatter him. Alex exhaled hard. Sank back down onto the couch. Closer this time. Their knees almost brushing. "No. I mean. I just don't know how that would work. We're both guys. And I don't know if that's appropriate." His voice softened. Thoughtful tone creeping in despite the racing pulse as he sat down beside Harry.
Harry peeked up through his lashes. Spoke up again. Voice steadier now. "It would work better that way. Actually. You said that you and your friends see each other naked and it means nothing. So this wouldn't matter." He paused. A nervous laugh bubbling out. Dimples flashing briefly. "Plus. You could do what you do on a girl on me. I mean. I have a hole too." His cheeks burned redder. But he held Alex's gaze. That spark from earlier flickering back to life. The air in the basement thickened. Charged with the weight of the suggestion.
Alex stared at Harry. The words settled in the quiet basement like an unexpected echo. Show him? The dim lights overhead flickered slightly, casting soft shadows across the paused game on the screen and the scattered controllers on the coffee table. His heart picked up a quicker rhythm, thoughts tumbling over each other—flashes of that pale skin upstairs, the curve of Harry's body twisting away in the bathroom. They were stepbrothers now, thrown together by their parents' marriage, but in this moment, with the house silent above them, it felt like something else. Curiosity. Experimentation. Harry's big brown eyes held his, wide with a mix of nerves and hope, his slim frame tense on the couch.
Alex shifted his weight, the leather cushion creaking under him. He ran a hand through his dark blond hair, buying time as heat crept up his neck. "Harry... this isn't just talking. We're family. It could complicate things." His voice came out even, thoughtful, but his gaze lingered on Harry's lips, slightly parted, then down to the way his sweatshirt clung to his lean chest.
Harry leaned forward a little, his knee brushing Alex's again, the contact warm through their clothes. He swallowed visibly, cheeks tinting pink. "I know. But it's only practice. No one has to find out. You mentioned guys see each other without clothes sometimes, like in locker rooms, and it's no issue. This could be similar." His words were soft, a nervous laugh slipping out at the end, dimples flashing briefly. "And you've done this with girls. It might feel kind of the same. I have... well, you know." He gestured vaguely toward himself, eyes dropping for a second before meeting Alex's again, earnest.
The idea twisted in Alex's mind, logical in a way that surprised him. Just experimenting. Friends figuring things out. No pressure. His jeans felt tighter, a low throb starting as he considered it. He nodded once, decision forming gradual. "Okay. But we take it easy. Step by step. If anything feels wrong, we stop. Agreed?"
Harry's shoulders relaxed, a small smile breaking through. "Agreed." He shifted closer on the couch, the space between them shrinking naturally.
Alex reached out tentative, his hand landing on Harry's shoulder first, thumb brushing the fabric of his sweatshirt. The touch was light, testing. Harry's breath caught slightly, but he didn't pull away. Alex leaned in slow, giving time to back out, and pressed his lips to Harry's. Soft at the start. Exploratory. Harry's mouth was warm, responding hesitant but curious, parting when Alex deepened it a fraction. Their tongues met awkward at first, Harry mimicking Alex's movements, a quiet hum escaping him.
They kissed like that for a while, the basement quiet around them, only their breaths and the faint hum of the console filling the air. Alex's hand slid down Harry's arm, fingers tracing the sleeve, then to the hem of the sweatshirt. He tugged gently. "Is this okay? Taking it off?"
Harry nodded, breaking the kiss to help pull the sweatshirt over his head. His skin was pale and smooth, lean muscles from running showing faintly under the surface, chest rising with quicker breaths, small nipples tightening in the cooler room. Goosebumps dotted his arms. Alex took it in, appreciating without rushing, the way Harry's body was built for speed rather than bulk.
"Your turn?" Harry asked, voice a little breathless, a shy grin tugging at his lips.
Alex chuckled softly, standing up to make space. He peeled his t-shirt off steady, revealing his broader chest, muscles defined from swimming, tanned skin stretching over his abs, the faint line of hair trailing down. Harry's eyes followed the movement, widening slightly. Alex kicked off his shoes next, then unbuttoned his jeans, sliding them down with his boxers in one go. His cock hung heavy, already starting to fill out from the kissing, thick and uncut, foreskin soft over the head, balls relaxed below.
Harry's gaze locked there for a moment, then up to Alex's face. "Can I...?" He reached out slow, fingers hovering.
"Yeah. Go ahead." Alex sat back down, closer now, their thighs pressing together. Harry's hand wrapped around the shaft tentative, stroking light at first, feeling the weight. Alex let out a low breath, hardening under the touch, the skin warming, pre-cum gathering at the tip. He placed his hand over Harry's, guiding. "Like this. A bit firmer. Twist a little at the end." Harry's strokes adjusted, growing more confident, the motion smooth and steady.
It felt good, the basement air cooling their skin as they explored. Alex's free hand moved to Harry's waistband, tugging questioningly. "What about these?"
Harry lifted his hips without hesitation, helping Alex slide the sweatpants and underwear down. His cock sprang free, slender and curving up slightly, the head pink and already glistening a bit, balls smooth beneath a light trim of hair. Alex wrapped his fingers around it, matching the rhythm, stroking slow to build the sensation. Harry gasped quietly, hips shifting forward into the touch. "That feels... nice."
They continued like that, hands on each other, breaths syncing as they learned the feel. No rush. Just experimenting. Alex's thumb circled the head of Harry's cock, spreading the slickness, while his other hand cupped one of Harry's ass cheeks, squeezing gentle, fingers brushing the cleft curiously. Harry tensed briefly, then relaxed, pushing back a little. "Is that part of it?" He asked, voice curious.
"Can be." Alex replied, keeping his tone casual. "If you want to try more."
Harry nodded, eyes half-closed now. "Yeah. Let's see."
Alex eased him back against the couch arm, positioning him comfortable on his side. He leaned down, kissing along Harry's chest first, tongue flicking over a nipple experimental. Harry arched slightly, a soft sound escaping. Alex continued lower, nuzzling the base of Harry's cock before taking it into his mouth slow, lips wrapping around, tongue swirling the head. The taste was salty, clean. He bobbed gentle at first, sucking lightly, hand fondling the balls below, rolling them easy.
Harry's fingers threaded into Alex's hair, not pulling, just holding. "Wow. That's... intense." His hips rocked subtle, testing the motion.
Alex took his time, building the suction gradual, exploring what made Harry react, deeper pulls, tongue pressing under the head. Minutes passed, Harry's moans growing quieter but deeper, body trembling a bit. When he seemed close, Alex pulled back with a soft pop, spit shining. "Not yet. Want to try the other part?"
Harry looked at him, cheeks flushed, nodding. "Okay. How?"
Alex helped flip him onto his stomach, knees tucked under, ass raised natural. The cheeks were smooth, rounded, pale skin inviting. Alex spread them slow, thumbs parting to reveal the pink entrance, tight and clean. He leaned in, breath warm first, then tongue licking a careful stripe over the rim. Harry jolted a little, but settled, pushing back curious. "That's new." He murmured, voice surprised but not stopping.
Alex circled the rim slow, tongue probing gentle, spit slicking everything. He added a finger after a while, pressing in knuckle by knuckle, the heat tight around him. Harry breathed deep, relaxing into it. Alex crooked the finger, searching, finding the spot that made Harry gasp sharper. "There?"
"Yeah. Keep doing that." Harry said, voice breathy.
Alex added a second finger gradual, scissoring to stretch, more spit for smoothness. The sounds were wet, intimate, as he worked Harry open patient, rubbing that inner spot in circles, watching the body respond, back arching slow, ass flexing around his hand. Sweat beaded on Harry's skin, the basement warming from their efforts.
When Harry was loose, breathing heavy, Alex pulled back. His own cock throbbed hard, pre-cum dripping. "Ready to try the full thing?"
Harry glanced over his shoulder. "Yes. Go slow though."
Alex positioned behind, one hand on Harry's hip steady, the other guiding his cock to the entrance. He rubbed the head against the slick rim first, circles to tease and prepare, then pushed in careful, one inch, pause, another. The heat gripped tight, velvet smooth. Harry tensed, then breathed out, nodding for more. Alex slid deeper gradual, bottoming out with hips flush to Harry's ass.
He held still, hands rubbing Harry's sides. "How's that feel?"
"Full. But good." Harry replied, shifting experimental.
Alex's breaths grew deeper as he stayed buried inside Harry. The velvet heat pulsed around his cock in rhythmic squeezes that clouded his thoughts. He had never been with a guy before. Never even entertained the idea in his quiet moments alone. But now. With Harry's slim body trembling under him. That perfect ass pressed back against his hips. The pale cheeks warm and soft yet firm. The urge swelled like a tide he could no longer resist. It started as curiosity. Experimentation between friends. But the tightness. The way Harry clenched instinctive. It awakened something primal. He wanted more. Needed to take control. To chase the building pressure in his groin until it broke.
He adjusted his grip. Hands sliding from Harry's hips up to his shoulders. Fingers curling firm into the lean muscle there. Anchoring them both. "Hold on." Alex murmured. Voice low and steady. Though his heart hammered. "I'm going to go a bit harder now. Stop me if it's too much."
Harry nodded into the couch cushions. Dark hair matted with sweat. His big brown eyes flicked back over his shoulder. Glazed with anticipation. "Do it. I want to feel it all."
Alex pulled back slow at first. Inch by inch. Feeling the slick drag of Harry's walls along his shaft. The foreskin gliding with the motion. Spit and pre-cum coating everything in a glossy sheen. The head nearly slipped free before he thrust in again. Deeper this time. Bottoming out with a deliberate push that made Harry's ass cheeks compress against his pelvis. The impact sent a subtle ripple through the plump globes. Harry's breath hitched. A quiet moan escaping as Alex held there. Grinding circles with his hips to stretch him further. Testing the limits.
The sensation hit Alex like a rush. The heat enveloped him completely. Squeezing his thickness in ways no girl ever had. Tighter. Hotter. He gave in a fraction more. Withdrawing halfway. Then snapping forward sharper. The slap of skin echoed soft in the basement. Harry's body jolted lightly. Ass jiggling with the force. Alex watched it. Mesmerized. The way the cheeks bounced back into place. Pale skin flushing pink from the contact. He repeated the motion. Building a steady rhythm. Each thrust measured but gaining power. His balls swung forward with every drive. Brushing Harry's in a teasing tap.
Harry arched his back a little. Pushing back to meet him. "Like that." He whispered. Voice strained but eager. "Keep going."
Alex's control slipped another notch. He leaned over Harry's back. Chest pressing down for leverage. One hand planted beside Harry's head on the couch. The other sliding under to grip his hip bone. Pulling him back onto each thrust. The angle shifted. Allowing Alex to plunge deeper. Hitting that inner spot with precision. Harry's moans grew louder. Body shuddering each time Alex nailed it. The tightness fluttered around his cock. Milking him. Alex groaned low. The sound rumbling from his throat. Sweat trickled down his spine. Beading on his tanned skin. Mixing with the dampness on Harry's back.
He picked up speed now. Hips pistoning in fluid strokes. No longer just experimenting. This was instinct. Urge taking over. His thick shaft stretched Harry wide with every entry. The rim gripping the base like it refused to let go. Alex watched where they joined. His cock disappearing fully. Reappearing slick and shining. Veins more prominent now from the strain. Pre-cum leaking steadily. Adding to the wet sounds filling the room. Slap. Squish. Gasp. Harry's ass rippled hypnotic with each impact. Cheeks spreading slightly on the inward push. Revealing the pink hole stretched taut around him.
"Fuck." Alex muttered. Voice rough. He had held back at first. Kept it gentle for Harry's sake. But the build-up overwhelmed him. He straightened up. Both hands clamping Harry's waist now. Fingers digging into the soft flesh there. Bruising lightly. He slammed in harder. Full force. The couch creaked under the assault. Harry's slim frame rocked forward with each thrust. Moans turning into cries. "Alex. Yes. Deeper."
Alex obliged. Giving in fully to the urge. Hips snapping relentless. Pounding into that welcoming heat. His balls tightened. Pleasure coiling low in his gut. Harry's body quivered. Hole clenching in spasms that dragged along his length. Alex reached around. Fisted Harry's slender cock. Stroking rough in time with his thrusts. Thumb circling the slick head. Harry bucked wild. "I'm close." He gasped. Body tensing.
The words pushed Alex closer. He thrust erratic now. Chasing his own release. The tightness built unbearable. Balls drawing up. He could pull out. Should pull out. But the urge won. He buried deep one final time. Hips grinding flush. Cock throbbing as the orgasm crashed over him. Cum erupted in hot. Thick spurts. Filling Harry inside. Pulse after pulse. Coating the walls. Overflowing slightly around the base. Alex groaned loud. Head thrown back. Muscles straining as he emptied everything. The sensation prolonged by Harry's clenching. Milking every drop.
Harry followed seconds later. Hole fluttering around the invading shaft. His own cum spilling over Alex's fingers in sticky ropes. Body shaking through the peak.
Alex stayed inside a moment longer. Feeling the aftershocks. Cum leaking slow as he finally pulled out. A thin trail connecting them briefly before breaking. He collapsed beside Harry on the couch. Breaths heaving. Bodies slick and spent. The basement air cooled their skin. Leaving them in the quiet aftermath.
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