brotherly-games-13

Subject: Brotherly Games, Chapter 13 Hey there! Please do not forget to make a donation to Nifty for the amazing platform they provide for both readers and writers. If you wish to contact me, you may do so by E-mail: [email protected] Or follow me on Instagram: @Despanien I would also like to thank Max Potter for the taking of his time to check my chapters as I am not a native speaker. You can read his stories fty//authors.htmlmaxpotter (I apologise in advance, for there is no sex scenes in this chapter, sorry guys, but it’s an important one to understand the following) Brotherly Games Chapter 13 I was sitting there, in the hallway of my own house, crying like a baby. How the fuck did we come to this? It was all my fault! I shouldn’t have drink so much, I shouldn’t have tried to have sex with my boyfriend in the club’s bathroom, I should have defended my brother and calm things down with my mother. I fucked it all up, from A to Z. “Amelie? What happened?” Dad asked Mom with a worried tone. I looked up to them, as they were standing by my side. Mom looked thunderstruck, and Dad was visibly preoccupied. Then, I had a sudden impulse to run after my brother. I needed to make things right, it was all my fault! He shouldn’t take the blame! No, not this time! I quickly stood up and ran to the door. I was quickly reminded of my drunken state, though, because I tripped and almost fell before Dad caught me and prevented me from falling. “George!” I shouted at the door as my vision totally blurred with tears. “Come back! Please!” I begged in a high pitch voice, having difficulty breathing. “You’re not going anywhere Henri!” Dad told me with a serious tone. “But… It’s so cold outside!” I whimpered as Dad tightened up his grip on me. At some point, I realised it was pointless, and that there was nothing I could do. I gave up, and collapsed in Dad’s arms, sobbing softly. “Go back to bed, Am�lie, I’ll take care of him.” Dad told Mom with a soft voice. She was still standing there, thunderstruck, and hadn’t moved or said anything after George slammed the door behind him. I blamed myself, a great deal actually, but I blamed her too. I couldn’t even bear looking at her. Thankfully, I didn’t have to, because she headed back upstairs to her bedroom right after Dad told her he would take care of me. I was about to throw up, and I knew I wouldn’t make it upstairs in time so I ran to the ground floor toilet and sank down to my knees in an instant. The alcohol didn’t help, for sure, but I knew the true reason I threw up was anxiety. I was feeling miserable, both physically and psychologically. As I finished throwing up for the third time in a row, Dad squatted behind me with a tissue and a glass of water. I wiped my mouth and drank as Dad rubbed my back gently. Dad helped me get on my feet and he then escorted me upstairs. He sat me on the toilet and washed my face with a wet and soapy shower glove. He poured toothpaste on my toothbrush and guided my movements to brush my teeth. I was a mess, for real. Dad seemed preoccupied, but not angry at me. I couldn’t get rid of the feeling that I disappointed everyone with my behaviour though. After brushing my teeth, Dad sat me on my bed and undressed me, leaving only my underwear on. He tucked me to bed and before he left, I grabbed his wrist. I had my eyes closed, too ashamed to look back at him. “I’m sorry Dad…” I whispered sleepily. He leaned over me and kissed my cheek softly. “Get some sleep son, everything’s going to be alright.” He answered with a deep reassuring voice. I sighed and vaguely heard him leave my bedroom before dozing off. Usually, even with the very little personal experience I have in this regard, I would sleep in after getting trashed the previous evening. This Sunday morning though, I woke up before 9. My head was killing me, I felt like a thousand knives were plunging into my brain and frantically stabbing me. My muscles were sore, and my throat was dry. On top of it, I was super nauseous. Yeah, not the most pleasant way to wake up… Although I was in a pitiful state, it wasn’t much compared with the feelings going through my mind. I was feeling a mixt of many emotions: Guilt, anger, sadness, uncertainty, anxiety, shame, despair, doubt. Most of all though, I felt determined to find my brother and make things right, even if I had no idea how. The things he said to Mom, damn… that’s not something you can easily forget. I groggily headed to the bathroom where I took a long shower to wake myself up. I’m not going to lie, every single minute I was out of bed was complete torture. I endured it though, mostly out of guilt. I walked out of my room and painfully got downstairs. Mom was in the living room, sipping on a mug of coffee at the dining table while going through what I assumed was work related stuff. “Hi.” She coldly saluted me, quickly shooting a glance at me before going back to her papers. She was mad at me, I could tell. This was a rare occurrence, since I usually was very well behaved and obedient. Today though, I didn’t really feel like talking to her. If she wasn’t always so mean to George, we definitely wouldn’t have been in this situation. I always thought my parents were overly strict with him. Before this year, however, I thought that at least there was some kind of fairness. Yes, sure, they were strict, but that’s because he was a difficult teen to deal with, and they also punished him when he fucked up. Now that I could witness the situation from both perspectives, and that I had an actual internal point of view rather than the external one I used to have, I realised that they were actually very unfair to him. I’m not going to lie, my respect and esteem for my mother was greatly diminished, and I felt resentment towards her growing inside of me. They weren’t the best parents to me, but to George they turned straight abusive, and that’s not something I was going to tolerate. I quickly finished my hot chocolate (Milk isn’t the best idea when you’re hungover by the way), and got back upstairs. Dad was in his study and had left his door ajar. I gently knocked, incidentally pushing the door open, and Dad looked up from his laptop. He gauged me and gave me an embarrassed smile. “How are you feeling son?” He asked him with his deep calm voice. I gulped and hung my head low before shrugging as sole answer. “I really fucked up, didn’t I?” I mumbled timidly. Dad sighed and leaned on the back of his desk chair. “Well… yes. Although it’s not a very surprising behaviour for a teenager, I expected better from you Henri.” He confessed with a serious tone. Fuck, that hurts! I felt like a piece of shit. “Sorry Dad.” I apologised in a barely audible voice. “I called Timoth�e’s mother earlier today, asking her why my elder son brought back my youngest home, unable to walk by himself, heavily intoxicated, since he was supposed to be sleeping at their place.” Dad told me with a stern face. “She confessed that not only she knew, but also allowed you and Tim to go out clubbing.” He explained. “So, it means that you didn’t sneak out. An adult that was responsible for you allowed it, and even though you should have known better, you’re not entirely to blame.” He concluded. “Since he is your boyfriend, I refrained from saying certain things to his mother, but I told her how disappointed I was. You won’t be allowed to sleep at Tim’s place any longer.” He announced me authoritatively. I sighed and realised how fucked up this all was. Dad scrutinized me expectantly, waiting for an answer from me. I nodded weakly, realising that there was nothing to debate anyway. “What about George?” I eventually had the guts to inquire. “It wasn’t his fault Dad, I swear!” I lamented in a pleading high pitched voice. “Henri… it’s none of your business. Besides, it’s not just about clubbing, and you know it!” Dad shot back, irritated. I walked closer to his desk chair and looked back at him with imploring eyes. “Dad, please! It’s all my fault… George was just trying to help me.” I told him. “He noticed how drunk I was and blamed Tim. He took care of me and immediately brought me back home as he didn’t trust Tim.” I explained truthfully. Dad looked back at me with a suspicious expression but didn’t answer anything, as if he was unsure about what to think. “Let me talk to him, please!” I begged. “You know where he is?” Dad asked me, raising his eyebrow. “I think so…” I confessed. Dad gauged me and was visibly considering it. “Please…” I insisted with a weak voice. “Fine.” He finally accepted. I sighed in relief. “But you’re still grounded!” He warned me. “Also, you text me as soon as you’re done talking to him, otherwise you’re not going at all, am I clear?” Dad instructed me with a commanding tone. “We were supposed to have lunch with Uncle David and the cousins today.” I mumbled with a barely audible voice. I then shot a timid innocent glance at Dad to gauge his reaction. He shook his head in disbelief and didn’t seem very pleased. “Text me when you’re at your Uncle’s place, and I’ll pick both of you after lunch.” He accepted reluctantly. I eagerly nodded, knowing better than to push my luck further. “Thank you so much Dad, you’re the best!” I exclaimed before rushing out of his study to grab a coat and get my shoes on. I rushed downstairs and as I was about to open the main door Mom interrupted me. “Where are you going?” She asked me with an offended expression. “I need to grab my stuff at Tim’s place.” I simply istanbul travesti answered unenthusiastically. “Dad said I could.” I specified, hoping that would be enough to shut her up. She rolled her eyes and walked away without even saying anything else. Well, fuck you too Mom! I didn’t lie, I was really on my way to Tim’s place. My bag with my stuff was there, and it included my phone charger that I needed rather urgently. While I was in the subway, I texted Carl to get the confirmation that my brother was indeed at his place. We arranged that I headed to Carl’s after I picked my bag up and I was relieved that at least I wouldn’t have to struggle to find my brother. When I knocked at Tim’s door, I was super nervous. His Mom opened the door and I looked at her deeply ashamed of myself. “Hi Mrs Lafargue. I’m so sorry about yesterday.” I apologised defeatedly. “Oh, sweetie, it’s not your fault. Don’t you worry about it, everything is fine.” She quickly reassured me with a maternal tone. She gave me a quick hug and I suddenly felt much better about it all. “Tim is still sleeping in his room.” She informed me with a wink, gesturing to me to join him. I smiled back at her and walked to my boyfriend’s bedroom. I didn’t bother knocking, since he was apparently asleep, and silently opened the door. Tim was lying on his stomach, his face resting on his pillow under which were his crossed arms. I crawled in the bed, on top of him, and kissed the back of his neck and around his ears to wake him up. Tim gruntled sleepily and started stirring a little as I was intensifying my kissing bombardment. “Mom!” He eventually protested with a hoarse voice. Gross. “It’s not Mom!” I whispered in his ear before chuckling softly. Tim opened his eyes and looked at me. “Henri? Baby!” Tim sleepily exclaimed, visibly pleasantly surprised to see me. “Fuck! I missed you last night!” He lamented before rolling on his back and maintaining me straddled on top of him. He was wearing the same black briefs that he wore the previous day. Urgh, it was really turning me on, and I knew Tim didn’t care a single bit that his Mom was in the next room. As a matter of fact, I don’t even think she cared if we had a quickie! But I really didn’t have time for that. I sighed and Tim noticed that something was wrong. “About last night… I… uh… well…” I stuttered, unable to get the words out. I took a deep inspiration and focused on how to phrase it. “My brother and I got caught as he brought me back home. My mother yelled at him, and George yelled back. For real, he insulted her and shouted really nasty stuff at her.” I explained painfully. I gulped. “Then George stormed out of the house and slammed the door in her face.” I concluded with a lump in my throat. “Babe… I’m so sorry.” Tim told me with an expression of genuine compassion. I smiled at him faintly, still very upset about how things ended up between Mom and George. “Also, my father called your Mom. I won’t be allowed to come here from now on.” I added defeatedly. Timoth�e straightened up and looked scandalised. “What? Why?” He inquired with a hint of anger. “Because your Mom allowed us to go out.” I explained. Honestly, I totally understood Dad’s reaction and didn’t think it was unreasonable. Tim, who was from a very different upbringing from mine, probably thought it was damn straight totalitarian. “Oh man… But… they couldn’t care less when they spent ten days in Japan!” Tim protested. “Like, they literally never even check on you or anything, and now they’re… urgh!” He complained visibly feeling it was all very unfair. “FUCK!” He shouted angrily, making me jump with surprise. “It really SUCKS!” Tim added, getting angrier by the minute. “Your brother couldn’t just mind his own fucking business! None of that would’ve happened!” “Tim!” I cut him off with a stern face. He rolled his eyes, visibly displeased that I would defend my brother, but didn’t further complain. “Baby, I wouldn’t be too worried. As you said, my parents will be going on some other business trip at some point, soon I suppose, and I’ll be able to sleep at your place. In the meantime, you’re still allowed at mine.” I reassured him with a faint smile. It seemed to work, and he relaxed. “I need to go, I still have to find my fugitive brother!” I announced with a chuckle. Tim moaned, complaining that I would stay with him, and made my heart melt. I wanted nothing more than to slip under the blanket with him and cuddle him. Yeah, ok, maybe not just cuddling… I had more important things to do however. Reluctantly, I got up and grabbed my backpack. I leaned over the bed and kissed my boyfriend. His breath was terrible, but I couldn’t care less. He was still my perfect boyfriend and fuck… god knows I loved him. I quickly said goodbye to Tim’s mother and took off. Next stop, Carl’s house. My brother’s best friend lived in the hyper-centre, near the Jacobine convent. He texted me his address and, as far as I knew, my brother was unaware I was about to drop by. I was rather insecure about the whole operation, my brother really lost it when he screamed at my mother the previous night, and I expected him to be really upset. I didn’t bother taking the subway, since St-Cyprien is only one station from Esquirol, so I had some time to think about what to say while I walked to Carl’s place. Truth being told, it didn’t exactly help me relax and, when I reached Carl’s, I was a nervous wreck. I texted Carl that I was here and waited in front of his building. “Hey mini-George!” Carl joyfully saluted me after opening the door. “Hi.” I shyly answered with a polite smile. “Ready to wake the beast up?” Carl jokingly asked me. I raised my eyebrows and my eyes widened. “He’s sleeping?” I asked with a surprised tone. “Duh!” Carl exclaimed like I was an absolute idiot. “The question is: Why aren’t you sleeping!?” He shot back with a giggle. “Is he mad at me?” I asked Carl with a nervous voice as he was opening his flat’s main door. Carl frowned and shot me a confused glance. “Uh… I don’t think so, why?” He asked me seemingly completely oblivious to what happened the previous night. I supposed George didn’t tell him. I gulped and Carl scrutinized me, suddenly realising there was more to the story than just me picking my brother up for a family lunch. Carl led me to his bedroom door and I took a deep breath, staring at the door handle for a long time. Carl was now really suspicious and he was genuinely curious. “Uh… Carl? Do you mind if I see him alone?” I shyly asked, knowing it was a very rude thing to ask. It was his bedroom after all. “Sure!” He accepted before walking away to the living room. I opened the door and immediately closed it behind me. My brother was lying on his side, completely covered by the blanket, facing the opposite direction. I walked around the bed and sat on the edge. He looked so peaceful, and so handsome. I caressed his face as my fingertips brushed his tousled hair. He sighed slightly, in his sleep, and I leaned over him to kiss the tip of his nose. He frowned and slowly opened his eyes. When he caught the sight of me, he immediately straightened up and looked at me with a confused expression. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He barked at me in a hoarse voice. Well, that certainly sets the tone of our little morning chat. “I suspected you’d sleep at Carl’s.” I simply answered. “Congratulations Sherlock!” He sneered with contempt. “It doesn’t answer my question though, what the fuck are you doing here?” My brother repeated. “I… uh… well I came to…” I started explaining, suddenly struggling to express myself. “Get the fuck out of here!” He suddenly exclaimed, cutting me off. “George, please!” I lamented, deeply hurt by the way he talked to me. “Don’t “George” me! I’m not your fucking dog Henri!” He snapped with irritation. “I’m sorry about last night, it was all my fault.” I apologised for the tenth time since I woke up. “Yep, it was, and guess who ended up being blamed?” George shot back with a reproachful tone. “I’m so sorry George… I’ll make things right, I swear I will!” I promptly promised with a faint smile. “No, you won’t.” My brother declared. “You won’t do shit. The two of us are done, just leave me alone.” “What? No!” I protested. “We can work it out, we can…” “We can’t, and we won’t!” He cut me off again with a serious tone. “Seriously, I’m done with you. All I want is for you, and Mom, and Dad, to leave me alone. Pretend I don’t exist, and let me get some peace for a change!” He stated with growing anger. I was scandalised, he couldn’t be fucking serious, could he? “No!” I almost shouted. “You’re my brother, you can’t cut me off like that!” “Henri I…” George started. “I won’t accept it George! I just won’t, we can find another way and we will!” I continued. “It’s not…” He tried interrupting me once more. “You can ask me anything, but not that! Please George! You can’t…” “STOP TALKING, JUST STOP TALKING YOU FUCKING FAG!” My brother suddenly burst out. I was completely dumbfounded, but most of all I was heartbroken. “You’re always saying that things are going to be alright, that you’re on my side, but you’re not!” He snapped angrily. “I’ve tried EVERYTHING! I’ve tried ignoring your sorry ass, I’ve tried being your brother, whatever I do, I LOSE! You have never brought anything in my life but problems! That’s what you are to me, a massive talking and breathing problem!” He concluded with watery eyes and kadıköy travesti a wavy voice. I was left completely speechless. I felt like my heart had been ripped off my chest and a great cold emptiness had replaced it. I wasn’t even angry at my brother; I was just so ashamed. How could I cause so much pain and trouble to the person I loved the most? I felt so useless, like a total waste of space. My brother covered his eyes with the palm of his right hand, visibly trying to calm down. I painfully gulped and was about to leave, not even knowing where to go. I simply wanted to disappear, not just from my brother’s life, but from everyone’s life. I stood up and walked to the door like a zombie. “Stay.” My brother commanded me without uncovering his eyes. I halted, without really knowing why. I didn’t want to obey, I felt the urge to leave, but I obeyed my brother, nonetheless. He eventually stood up, wearing only sweatpants, and walked to the door. He leaned his back against the door, looking right in front of him and avoiding eye contact. “Listen, I’m sorry okay. I know it’s not your fault.” George apologised. I looked at him and couldn’t believe my ears. He actually apologised to me, for the very first time, ever. I was still feeling incredibly down, George couldn’t even bring himself to look at me. He must have really hated me, I thought. The feeling kind of overwhelmed me and a sob escaped my mouth. Goddamnit! I was either crying or apologising these days, what a bloody drama queen I was! I couldn’t exactly help it though, and so I started crying like a baby, again. Pathetic. My whole body began shaking as I had a full melt down. I felt like a cry baby, but as a matter of fact it was only the second time I ever cried in front of him. My brother approached me from behind and slowly wrapped his arms around my stomach. He rested his chin on my shoulder and simply held me tight, from behind. I needed to let off some steam, and so I kept crying for a few minutes, but I was already feeling better since I could smell his familiar and reassuring scent, feel his body warmth and hear his breathing in my ear. When I was finally done crying, I sighed heavily, slowly regaining my composure. “I love you George.” I said in a soft weak voice. “I know.” He simply answered. He then broke the embrace and I turned to look at him. He seemed tired and far from his usual mischievous mood. I timidly smiled at him and wiped my tears from my cheeks. “Are you coming with me at Uncle David’s?” I asked with a boyish tone and pleading eyes. He chuckled and shook his head with an amused expression. “Ok.” My brother accepted, triggering a wide smile from me. “I’m gonna grab a shower first.” He added before opening the bedroom door and heading to the bathroom. I walked out of the bedroom too and Carl was sitting on the couch, in the living room, scrolling on his smartphone. “Yo!” Carl exclaimed. He saw my red eyes and messy appearance and I think there was no doubt in his mind that some drama just happened. He shook his head in disbelief and jumped out of the couch. “He’s in the bathroom?” Carl asked me casually. I nodded and he walked out of the living room, tapping my shoulder friendlily as he passed by me. “What the fuck dude!” I heard Carl say from the bathroom. By the sound of his voice, I could tell he tried not to be too loud, but the walls must have been paper-thin because I could hear them very clearly. “Did you just call your brother a fag?” “Yeah… I kinda did…” George answered hesitantly. “Damn! Are you out of your mind?” Carl vigorously protested. “You don’t call a gay guy a fag! Bro!” “I know! I just lost it!” George shot back defensively. “Listen, we’re cool, I apologised.” “What the fuck happened anyway! Did you make him cry?” Carl inquired accusingly. There was a long pause during which I suppose my brother answered affirmatively in a way or another. “George, man, that’s not cool!” “Carl!” George snapped. “I know, okay?” He added defensively. “I’ve always been kind of a douche to him, I just can’t help it!” My brother explained. My heart was beating fast. Hearing this conversation felt totally surreal for me. Apparently, my brother never really mentioned his fucked up relationship with me to his best friend. As a comparison, Jean-Baptiste knew pretty much everything that was to be known about it. Also, my brother was talking about it so fucking casually! It was like they chatted about failing a maths test, not failing the whole relationship with your own goddamn brother! “Get your shit together dude!” Carl answered energetically. “And don’t call him a fag.” He specified with a calmer but still serious voice. “Yes Dad!” George jokingly answered. “I’d kick your ass otherwise.” Carl teased with a chuckle. “I bet you’d try!” George giggled. I then heard some laughter and fight noise and I assumed they were playing and wrestling. I was still standing in the middle of the corridor, dumbfounded. I couldn’t tell you what I felt exactly after hearing this conversation, because I think I was mostly disoriented. I headed to the living room and sat on a couch. I was texting Uncle David when Carl came back into the living room. “What’s up Mini-G?” Carl casually said. “Wanna drink something? Coke? Ice Tea? Whiskey?” He suggested. “Ice Tea, please.” I politely accepted with a wide smile. He opened the fridge and threw a can at me that I caught in the air as he came back with a glass. I opened the can and poured myself the Ice Tea in the glass as Carl sat on the couch next to me. “So, who was that girl George was French-kissing last night?” I inquired with a sly smile. “Do I look like a snitch?” He shot back playfully. I gauged him with a hesitant look. “Well… kind of.” I simply answered with a straight face. Carl raised his eyebrow and glared at me. “Fuck off dude!” He jokingly answered before chuckling. “You’re lucky I don’t beat your ass!” He threatened with a shit eating smirk. “You wouldn’t dare!” I exclaimed with a fake offended pout. “Not with my brother in the next room.” I specified, giggling. “George?” Carl answered pointing at the bathroom’s direction with a surprised tone. “This anorexic puny kid is no match for me!” He cockily declared. We both burst into laughter and a few seconds later George walked in the living room with the towel wrapped around his waist. He gathered up his clothes neglectingly tossed on the floor and headed to Carl’s bedroom. My brother shot me a quick glance as he passed by me and he winked before ruffling my hair. I smiled like an idiot, beaming. A few minutes later, my brother was ready to go and we said goodbye to Carl. George followed me to Uncle David’s house. He lived in “C�te Pav�e”, a rather rich neighbourhood of eastern Toulouse. We hopped in a bus together, without exchanging a single word. In the bus, I was standing, leaning against a window, and George was in front of me. My brother grabbed the bar handle behind me. We were facing each other, our faces millimetres from one another. I could smell his scent, feel his warm breath on me. He was almost pinning me against the wall, in the crowded bus. I gulped and looked at him in the dead of the eye. Gosh, I’d do anything for that guy. He smirked at me, visibly enjoying the position we were in. I nervously looked around us, and no one seemed to care a bit, or even look our way. George stared at me and mouthed “You’re mine.” with a devilish expression. A smile slowly appeared on my face and I softly nodded. Damn right I’m yours, so don’t you ever dare to try rejecting me again! We arrived in front of my Uncle’s place before noon. I had been here before, but it was several years earlier, and I didn’t remember much of it. Uncle David was living in a beautiful house that he bought right after his divorce. I rang at the gate and we waited for a few minutes before Guillaume, our cousin, came let us in. We kissed each other’s on the cheeks (You should watch Paul Taylor’s YouTube video about “La Bise” -What the fuck France- to understand the whole situation: https://www.youtube/watch?v=T-VWbV6TJxU&ab_channel=FrenchFriedTV ) and he invited us inside. “Damn George, you’re a hunk!” Guillaume commented with a chuckle as he squeezed my brother’s shoulder. George certainly gained some muscles since the last time they met. I smirked and followed them inside. As I checked my phone, I noticed that Dad texted me to know if I found my brother. I texted him back to let him know I was with George at Uncle David’s place. “Uncle!” I joyfully exclaimed when I saw him in the large living room. He displayed a bright smile when he caught the sight of me and gave me a bear hug. “Hey Boys!” Uncle David saluted us “It’s nice to have you here!” He declared, flashing us his pearly white teeth. “Hi Uncle, it’s nice to see you too.” George answered with a timid smile. Being around Uncle David was nice, even if I must admit I wasn’t really in the mood. First of all, I was completely hungover. Also, my fight with George had seriously affected me and I think I needed to be alone. George wasn’t in a great mood either, but Guillaume and Uncle David were really nice and fun, so it was easy to socialise. Apparently, Sarah was feeling unwell and B�atrice took care of her, hence their absence at lunch. Guillaume and Uncle David asked about Timoth�e and couldn’t shut up about how much they liked him when they met the previous weekend. My brother didn’t show anything to them, but I knew that he was most likely bakırköy travesti unhappy about the praise Tim was getting. I quickly changed the topic, because I had no intention to worsen George’s mood, and lunch was largely uneventful. “Do you think you could get some stuff from my bedroom and bring them tomorrow at school?” George asked me after lunch, careful not to be overheard by our hosts. “What?” I asked, confused about what he actually asked me. “I’m not coming back home with you, and I don’t want the parents to know where I am.” He explained with a serious tone. “You haven’t told them, right?” George asked, frowning. “No.” I lied. “George, you should come back home. It would be easier if…” I started saying. “I’m not.” My brother interrupted me authoritatively. “And you’re not going to tell them anything, just tell them you don’t know anything, I trust you Henri!” He told me, scrutinizing me. Fuck, Dad was on his way to pick us up at this very moment. I felt like a piece of shit. At the same time, I made a deal with Dad, and I couldn’t exactly change my mind now. I was screwed, for real. Like a fucking idiot, I nodded. What a bloody traitor I was. George thought I would come back home taking public transport, so he had no idea he only had a few minutes to escape if he wanted to avoid Dad. Uncle David and Guillaume were completely oblivious about the whole drama anyway since neither George nor I deemed necessary to tell them. I was getting gradually more anxious. I dreaded the moment my brother would understand that I betrayed him and didn’t even warn him when it was still possible. Would this nightmare never stop? Uncle David wanted to play card games with us, and everyone seemed joyful and happy, but me. We were in the midst of an “Exploding Kitten” game when the main doorbell rang. Uncle David raised his eyebrow in surprise and stood up to get the door. I shot a nervous glance at my brother, but he didn’t seem worried, far from thinking he had been betrayed, let alone by me. “Philippe!” Uncle David exclaimed enthusiastically. George suddenly straightened up and his eyes grew wide. His eyes met mine and at this moment he knew. He knew it all. He stared at me with a murderous expression, and I gulped, crushed by guilt and anxiety. “Come in!” Our uncle suggested Dad. “Hi, Guillaume. It’s nice to see you!” Dad greeted our cousin before kissing him on each cheek. He then sat right next to George on the couch and squeezed his thigh. “How are you son?” He asked my brother with a kind tone. My brother didn’t answer and looked away, he was pissed off. Dad wasn’t phased though, as he probably expected this kind of reaction from him. Uncle David and Guillaume exchanged a confused gaze, suddenly realising something was wrong. “Come with me George, we’re going to have a little walk around the neighbourhood.” Dad told my brother with a calm and authoritative tone. George shot me a death stare, silently accusing me and sentencing me to death. Dad stood up and invited my brother to do the same. Eventually, he complied and followed Dad outside. I was a nervous wreck and prayed all the fucking gods in the world to make this conversation between Dad and George turn right. “You’re ok boy?” Uncle David asked me after Dad and George had left the house for their little “chat”. “No.” I truthfully answered. “I fucked up.” I defeatedly add. “You fucked up?” My uncle repeated with a surprised tone. “It seems like it’s George who’s in trouble though.” “Yeah, that’s how it works in my family.” I shot back, angry at myself. “I fuck up, and George ends up paying for my mistakes.” Guillaume put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it friendlily, a manly way to comfort me, I suppose. “You know, if you ever need me for anything, I’d be happy to help.” Uncle David offered with a soft voice. “For you, and for your brother. If you ever need a place to sleep, or just someone to talk.” “Thank you, Uncle!” I answered with a timid smile. “It means a lot to me.” As I nervously waited, Guillaume and Uncle David did their best to distract me and keep me busy. I volunteered to wash the dishes, as any decent guest should, and we then talked about my life, my projects and the things I want to do when I graduate from Lyceum etc. It really strengthened my opinion that Uncle David is really an amazing guy, and that I want him to be a part of my life from now on. After what felt like forever, Dad and George came back. I tried to distinguish any kind of clue for me to interpret how it went on my brother’s face, but he displayed a neutral expression. He wouldn’t look at me though, and I was truly heartbroken even if I guess for once I really deserved it. As I already told you before, my brother never snitched on me. I knew he thought it was a particularly dishonourable thing to do, and I suppose I lost his respect. Dad and Uncle David chatted and caught up on their lives for about half an hour before we left. I guess despite everything else I was still glad that through me Dad reconnected a little with his brother. The ride back home was dead silent. I stared outside my window, replaying the events of the previous 24 hours again and again, blaming myself for all the things I had done before reaching that point. Deep down, I guess I knew that something like that could happen between our parents and George, but I wished I had nothing to do with it when it happened. Instead, I was right in the middle, and now my brother hated me. When we reached home, I headed straight to my bedroom and threw myself on the mattress. I was exhausted, and I ate more than I should have. I dozed off and had a long ass nap. That’s the thing I hate the most about winter, (although it was technically still autumn) the sun sets really early. It was not even 6pm when I woke up from my nap, but it was already dark outside, urgh! I had another shower, this time not to get clean but to relax, and got dressed in comfy clothes. Mom was cooking dinner in the kitchen, and although I would normally help her, I headed straight to the living room. My brother would usually be there, playing videogames, but today he wasn’t. The atmosphere in this house was rarely very warm, but today it was freezing cold. What a fucking joke of a family we were, for real. I texted Jean-Baptiste and told him I wanted to call him. He suggested I drop by at his place, and I announced to him that I was grounded. I wasn’t able to see his reaction, obviously, but I’m sure he frowned in utter confusion. 20 minutes later, he called me on the phone. I headed back to my room to answer and sat on my desk chair, browsing my computer as I told my best friend everything he needed to know. I spared him no details, and even though I was almost overwhelmed on several occasions, I kept my composure throughout the call. My best friend was very sympathetic to me and he did his best to cheer me up and comfort me. God bless him, he really is the best friend anyone could hope for. It was dinner time when I hung up with Jean-Baptiste. I collected my dirty clothes and headed to the laundry room before throwing them in the washing machine and launching it. I passed by my brother’s door and I heard him playing on his computer. I wanted nothing more than storming inside of his bedroom and spend some time with him, begging for his forgiveness on my knees, but I knew he needed time if he was to ever forgive me. We were called downstairs for dinner and I dragged my feet to the living room, dreading the awful mood everyone would be in. I sat around the table and Mom brought the main course. I guess there were no appetizers today. We waited for George but he didn’t show up. “Henri, go get your brother please.” Dad asked me with a soft tone. I was about to decline, but realised that it probably wouldn’t have been a good idea to contradict them. Reluctantly, I headed back upstairs with a lump in my throat. I knocked at his door and he didn’t answer. I opened his door and he didn’t acknowledge me. “George? Dinner is ready.” I timidly announced to him. “I don’t care, I’m not hungry.” He mumbled back, not even looking at me. I expected something like that, but it was killing me nonetheless. “Okay.” I answered defeatedly. I closed his bedroom door and went back downstairs. I told my parents that he wasn’t hungry and Mom was super mad. She was about to get up and force him to come when Dad told her that it wasn’t a big deal and to drop the matter. Well, I don’t record ever having a dinner that was that quiet. No one said a single word, it was hell. I ate as quickly as humanly possible and put my plate in the dishwasher before vanishing into my room. I watched a movie on my computer and as I was about to slip under the blanket when Dad knocked at my door and walked in. He wished me goodnight and asked how I felt. Damn, he really changed ever since he found out I was gay. I never knew he cared, even if he had always been nice to me. He’s also always been rather distant and uninterested in my life in a general manner. Not anymore though, I finally felt like I had a real Dad. “They’ll get over it, both of them, you’ll see.” Dad told me with a reassuring paternal tone. He meant Mom and George. “Just give them some time.” He added with a smile. “I love you Dad.” I simply answered. “Love you too.” He softly answered before gently kissing me on the forehead and walking out of my bedroom. At least not everyone hated me in my family. ** If you want to send me comment, questions, or just want to chat about the Story, feel free to add me on Instagram: Despanien Or send me an E-mail: [email protected] Also, I mentioned some recipes in this story, and I wanted to tell you that I translated them into English, and you are able to find them pot/