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Subject: {ASSM} My Girlfriend's Brother (2/6) (m/t)
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Copyright of this story is retained by the author and it should not be
reposted to any newsgroup or website without permission. Any form of
commercial use is strictly prohibited without the express permission of
the author. The author can be contacted at gym@softhome.net

The usual disclaimers apply: don't read if you are prohibited by
location, are under legal age, or if you are likely to be offended by
explicit descriptions of gay sex. The story is pure fiction and is not
based on any actual events.


My Girlfriend's Brother - Chapter 2 (of 6)
by
Gymnopedies


It was after seven by the time I got home from work on Saturday
evening. I grabbed something to eat before jumping into the shower.
Time was getting on and I had a hot date - with Emma.

It seemed that it wasn't all over between us after all. I'd got a text
from her during the afternoon telling me that she was sorry; she said
that she didn't believe any of that rubbish about me trying to get off
with her mother. I wasn't impressed and decided to ignore it, but a
short while later a further text arrived. In this one she said that she
loved me and she thought we had something special together. Yeah,
right. The third text begged me to contact her. By this stage I was
starting to thaw and I gave her a call. After just a few minutes of
talking, it was like our row had never happened. We arranged that I
would pick her up after work and we'd go to a club, then later back to
my place. I could hardly wait; the sex was always especially hot after
we'd had a fight.

I knocked on Emma's front door and it was answered a moment later by
Janice, Emma's mother. I immediately tensed.

"Hello, Liam." Janice gave me a warm smile. "Come on in. Emma's
upstairs; she'll be ready in a minute."

I followed her into the hallway.

"Come through," she said, heading into the lounge.

"No, don't worry. I'll be fine here," I replied. Janice appeared all
sweetness and light, but I couldn't forget what she'd tried to do. I
would rather keep away from her as much as possible, at least until
things settled down.

She shrugged and disappeared into the lounge. I could hear the sounds
of the TV through the open doorway.

I waited for several minutes, glancing occasionally at my watch. Even
though I'd been late arriving, Emma was still not ready. This wasn't
exactly unexpected, since Emma was never ready when she said she would
be. There was the sound of rapid footsteps on the stairs and I glanced
up. Jez was on his way down. He froze when he saw me.

"Liam?"

"Hi, Jez. How you feeling?"

He looked uncomfortable and quickly glanced back up the stairs to check
that there was no sign of Emma before looking back at me. "Please don't
tell Emma or Mum anything about last night," he begged, keeping his
voice very soft.

"I won't say anything," I told him. The light in the hallway was quite
dim, but as I looked at Jez I noticed a bruise under one of his eyes
that hadn't been there earlier. "What happened to your face, have you
been fighting again?" I asked, casually.

He immediately looked away, turning his head so that the bruise wasn't
visible. "I bumped it on a door," he said. "It's nothing."

He was obviously lying, but just as obviously didn't want to talk about
it, so I didn't press it. Besides, at that moment, Emma appeared at the
top of the stairs, and she looked incredible. The skimpy top she was
wearing left nothing to the imagination, and the tiny skirt showed off
every inch of her long, slim legs. "Wow!" It was all I could think of
to say.

She grinned at me as she slowly made her way down the stairs. She knew
the effect she had on me, and she revelled in it. Almost at the bottom
of the stairs, she stopped and turned her attention to her brother,
who, like me, was staring at her. "What do you think you're looking at,
perv," she said viciously. She gave a Jez a hard shove and, as he
happened to be standing on the bottom step, he lost his balance,
staggering until he managed to get his hand on the wall and catch
himself. He didn't say anything, but he shot his sister a look of pure
hatred.

"Emma, what did you do that for?" I demanded,

"He was in my way," she said, as if that were excuse enough. "Besides,
I don't like him looking at me."

"You don't seem to mind anyone else looking at you," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but he's a dirty little pervert." Emma's lip curled up in
contempt as she looked at her brother, then she turned her head to look
at me and was instantly all smiles. I found the sudden change creepy
and a little scary. "Let's go," she said. "We're already late; you said
you'd be here for eight."

I sighed but didn't bother to waste my time pointing out that I'd been
standing here for ten minutes waiting for her to get ready. "See you
around, Jez," I said to the boy, as Emma dragged me out through the
front door.

We got into my car and set off for the club. I have to admit that it
did feel good to be back with Emma. She was always hot, but tonight she
was extra hot, and every guy in the club was going to be looking at her
and wishing she was his and not mine.

"Is Jez alright?" I asked, as we drove along.

"What do you mean, is he alright?"

"Well, he sort of seems unhappy all the time. And then there's the
bruises."

"How should I know? He probably got himself beaten up trying to pick up
guys or something."

"Pick up guys?"

"Yeah, my brother's a little gay-boy. Mum found some porno mags in his
bedroom showing guys doing stuff together: really disgusting stuff."

This came as a shock. My mind instantly went back to the previous night
when I'd stripped the boy naked and stuck him under the shower, and
then dried him off. The thought made me a little uncomfortable. Though
in spite of this, I still couldn't help being concerned about him.
"Doesn't it bother you that he might be getting hurt?"

"Why should it bother me? He asks for it. He's always been weird.
Anyway, what are you so worried about him for? It's me that you should
be concentrating on tonight." She slid her hand up my thigh, then down
between my legs, squeezing my dick and balls through my pants. All
thoughts of Jez vanished instantly. Tonight was going to be fucking
amazing.

**********

I was awoken by the sound of the door buzzer. I raised my head and
blearily looked at the clock by the side of my bed. Ten o'clock. I
pulled the duvet up around my head; it was far too early to face the
world. Whoever it was could go to hell.

Last night had been totally wild. I'd been at the club with Emma until
around 1:30, and then we'd come back to my place. The sex had been even
better than I had anticipated. We'd fucked like animals. I came twice
and Emma, well, from the noises she was making the whole session had
been one long orgasm for her. By the time we were done we were both
totally exhausted. I was ready for sleep, but Emma insisted that I take
her home. This is one of the strange things about her: all the time
we've been together, she's never once stayed over. We've rowed about it
more than once. The last thing a guy wants after a heavy session is to
have to get dressed and turn out into the night. I thought that last
night might have been different, but no, she wanted to go home, and
I've learned that the easiest thing is always to give her what she
wants. It had been some time after 4:00 a.m. when I'd finally crawled
back into my bed, alone, to sleep. And now some inconsiderate bastard
was trying to get me out of bed at the crack of dawn.

The door buzzer sounded again.

Shit! I threw back the duvet and stormed to the door, ready to give
whoever it was hell. "Who is it?" I demanded, talking into the intercom
system next to the door.

"It's me, Jez."

"Jez? What do you want?"

"I brought back the clothes you lent me."

"I told you not to bother; that you could keep them." I gave a sigh.
"Oh, what the hell. I suppose you'd better come up." I pressed the
button that released the lock on the front door of the apartments. A
few seconds later, Jez was at my door. As I let him in, he walked
passed me and into the lounge. He was carrying a black bag.

"I told you I didn't want them back," I repeated, this time to his
face. I must have looked annoyed, since he cringed back from me. I gave
another sigh. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm feeling a bit cranky this morning
because I didn't get much sleep. Thanks for bringing the stuff back."

Jez gave a sort of grin. "Yeah, you look a bit rough," he said, looking
me up and down.

I was suddenly all too aware that I was standing there in just a pair
of boxers. Emma's words from last night came back to me and I shuffled
uncomfortably. I quickly told myself not to be so silly; even if Jez
was gay, he was hardly likely to be interested in me. He was just a kid
and I was almost twice his age. "I hope that's not the same bag you
took your own stuff home in," I said, more to divert his attention from
my body than for any other reason.

"No. It's a different one. The clothes aren't washed though." He looked
apologetic as he held out the bag towards me.

"Thanks. I suppose now that I'm up I may as well grab a shower and get
myself dressed," I said. "Thanks again for bringing my things back." I
moved back towards the door, to let him out.

"No problem. Hey, while you shower, why don't I fix you a coffee?" He
turned and went into the kitchen.

"Jez, there's really no need..."

"You go ahead and get your shower. You take sugar?"

"Jez... No. No sugar." I gave up and left him in the kitchen while I
went into the bathroom.

By the time I'd showered and cleaned myself up and pulled some clothes
on, I was starting to feel a little bit less grumpy and more tolerant.
Though as I entered the kitchen this tolerance was about to be put to
the test. There was awful smell of burnt toast. "Jez, what the hell are
you doing?"

"I'm sorry. I was trying to do you breakfast and I forgot to watch the
toast." The look on the boy's face was hard to describe; a kind of
cross between panic and guilt. "You're not mad with me, are you?"

I stood and looked at him for a second, keeping my expression neutral,
then I gave a grin; I couldn't possibly be angry with him when he
looked like that. "For goodness sake open the window and let some fresh
air in. What on Earth possessed you to start messing about with
breakfast? I thought you were only making coffee."

He opened the window and turned back to face me. "I sort of wanted to
say thanks for what you did for me the other night, you know, fetching
me back here and cleaning me up and stuff." His face reddened and he
looked down at his feet. "And for not telling Mum or Emma about it."

"Well, I could hardly leave you there in the park, could I?" I picked
up the mug of coffee he'd prepared for me and took a drink. That first
shot of morning caffeine tasted so good. "Aren't you having one?" I
asked.

Jez shook his head. "Don't like it much."

"There's some juice in the fridge. Help yourself to some of that."

"Thanks." He found a glass and poured himself some orange juice. He
then sat down at the kitchen table while I leaned back against one of
the work-surfaces.

"You look a bit healthier than last time you were here," I said.

He gave a smile.

"Except for the new bruise on your face," I added.

The smile instantly disappeared.

I walked over and sat down at the table, opposite him. "Jez, you want
to tell me where the bruises are coming from? Are you fighting with
someone?"

Jez looked up at me, and for moment it seemed as though he was going to
tell me what had been going on. But then he shook his head and lowered
his eyes back down to his juice. "It's nothing," he said.

"Alright. As I said yesterday, it's none of my business. But you
shouldn't let anyone use you as a punch-bag. Doesn't your mother ask
you where the bruises come from?"

He turned his glass round in his fingers. "She doesn't care about me"
he muttered. "She only cares about Emma."

I gave a sympathetic smile. "I remember using a similar line with my
own mother when I was about your age. I think it's a traditional thing
for teenagers to feel like that about their parents."

Jez looked up at me and a spark of anger flashed in his eyes. "Don't
talk to me like I'm a little kid; I'm not a kid. You don't know what
you're talking about."

"Sorry," I said, quickly, anxious to avoid the onset of a teenage
tantrum.

He sat with a scowl on his face. "Everybody talks to me like I'm a
kid." He took a drink of his juice and lowered the glass back to the
table top. "I'll be sixteen in a couple of weeks,"

Almost sixteen? He barely looked fourteen, sitting there in his
oversized clothes, his long, untidy hair hanging down over his face. He
bore an almost startling resemblance to Emma which, unfortunately for
him, tended to make him look pretty rather than handsome.

"A couple of weeks? It must be around the same time as Emma's then.
She's eighteen in two weeks."

"Yeah, it's her birthday three days after mine."

"She keeps reminding me it's coming up," I said, with a smile.

"She's always been like that. She just wants to make sure that no one
forgets to get her a present."

"It would be more than my life is worth."

"I sure won't be getting her anything," said Jez, bitterly.

"You don't like her very much, do you?"

"Not much, no." He took another drink, draining his glass.

I'd already finished my coffee. I stood up. "I suppose I'd better get
something done," I said. "I'll let you out."

"You want me to go?"

"I thought you might have things to do."

"Not really. What are you doing today?"

"Sunday is my cleaning day," I said. "Dusting, polishing, that sort of
thing."

"I could stay and help," he suggested.

"You've got to be kidding me. Are you telling me you've nothing better
to do that help me with my housework?"

He shook his head. "Please. I want to help."

Looking at those big round eyes in that innocent face, how could I
possibly refuse. "OK, if that's what you want."

We spent a good couple of hours on my weekly "mucking out", as I liked
to call it. I'm not sure that Jez was really much help, as he didn't
appear to have much idea when it came to cleaning, but having him
around did make the time seem to go faster. I'd never had much to do
with him prior to this past couple of days, apart from a few quick
words as I'd picked Emma up or dropped her off, and he'd always
appeared to be rather shy and awkward. It was nice to see some of that
shyness wearing off as the morning went on. As he relaxed, he became
more chatty, and we talked as we worked. Though I did notice that most
of the talking was about me. Jez wanted to know about my job, what sort
of music I liked, what my favourite films were, all sorts of trivial
things, but was for some reason extremely reluctant to give any
information about himself. For example, when I asked him what sort of
things he liked to do, all I got was a shrug and a simple "just stuff".

"I think that will do for now?" I said, eventually, glancing at my
watch. It was coming up to one o'clock. "Don't you need to get home for
lunch or anything?"

Jez shook his head. "We don't usually have lunch."

"Ah, OK. Well, when I'm on my own I usually open a can or get something
out of the freezer, but if you like we can go out."

A wide grin appeared on his face. "You mean me and you?"

"There's only us here. Who did you think I meant?"

"I dunno." Then his grin faded and he looked uncomfortable. "I don't
have any money."

"That's alright. It's my treat. Call it a thanks for helping me out
this morning."

"You sure?" The grin was back. In fact, he looked happier than I'd ever
seen him.

"Hey, I'm only offering to buy you lunch, not take you on holiday or
buy you a car or anything," I said, laughing. "Where did you want to
go; a pub lunch, or MacDonalds?"

He hesitated for a moment, then; "MacDonalds. Unless you'd rather go to
a pub."

"MacDonalds is fine," I said. Jez might be like his sister in looks,
but he was nothing like her in personality. Emma would never have
bothered about what I would rather do.

We went down to MacDonalds in my car. This was something else that Jez
was completely thrilled about. He'd never been inside it before and he
sat back in the low passenger seat, an awed look on his face as he
stroked the leather upholstery.

"You like it?" I asked.

"It's brilliant," he ginned. "I wish I had a car like this."

"Get yourself a good job and one day you might have," I told him.
"Still, I do have to make sacrifices. Having an expensive car means
that I don't have much left for non-essential luxuries, like food."

He looked suddenly worried. "You don't have to buy me lunch," he said.

"Relax," I said, laughing. "I was joking."

McDonalds was pretty busy. I asked Jez what he wanted, and then sent
him to find a table, while I fought my way to the counters. Jez had
decided he wasn't very hungry and asked for just a cheeseburger and a
small cola. I sort of got the impression that this was more out of
politeness than anything else and so ordered him a double cheeseburger,
with a large portion of fries and a large cola, then added an extra
portion of fries to the list, just to make sure.

Jez had managed to grab a small, two-seater table and I took the seat
opposite him and began unloading the food from the tray. "I got a few
extras, just in case you changed your mind about being hungry," I
explained.

As things turned out, the extra portions had been a good idea. Jez ate
as though he hadn't had a decent meal in days. As he ate, he opened up
some more and now seemed almost completely at ease with me. For my
part, I have to admit that I enjoyed his company; there was a sort of
innocence, a lack of guile about him, that made him easy to spend time
with. This was in marked contrast with his sister. Emma often left me
wondering what was going on in her head, and I found myself having to
watch what I said, just in case she took offence.

A short distance away from us was a rowdy group of guys who looked to
be in their late teens. During our meal, I noticed Jez spending more
and more time looking across at them, and at one of them in particular;
a curly haired, blond boy, who looked like he'd spent half his life in
the gym. There was no denying that this kid was good-looking, but boy
did he know it; you could tell by the way he did everything he could to
draw attention to himself. Jez realised I'd caught him staring at the
guy, and quickly looked down at the remains of his food, his face
colouring.

"Is that someone you know?" I asked.

Jez shook his head, keeping his eyes down.

I gave a short, soft laugh. "Maybe someone you'd like to get to know?"

At this, Jez did look up, his expression guarded. "What do you mean?"
he asked, going onto the defensive.

"Don't worry," I grinned. "Emma told me about the magazines; I know you
like boys." Whoops! Even before I'd finished speaking, I knew I was
saying the wrong thing. But I couldn't stop myself. It was as though I
was driving down a steep hill and my brakes weren't working. The colour
had drained from Jez's face and he stared at me, his eyes cold.
Suddenly, he jumped to his feet, knocking over his paper cup of cola in
the process, and headed for the door.

"Jez...!" As he stormed past me, I made a grab for his arm and missed.
"Jez, hold on." I struggled to get my legs out from under the table and
hurried after him, aware that we were causing a scene and that all eyes
in the place were on us. "Jez, just wait a minute," I shouted, as the
door closed behind me. Jez was already striding away across the car
park. I broke into a run and, catching up with him, I grabbed his
elbow, bringing him to a halt and swinging him around to face me.

"She'd no right," he snapped. "She'd no right to tell you. She always
has to try and spoil everything for me. She's an evil bitch."

"Hey, now hold on," I said, automatically coming to Emma's defence,
even though I knew that Jez was right, she could sometimes act a little
thoughtlessly. "Just cool it a bit will you?"

"Why should I?"

"Well..." I tried to think of something to calm him down. "Because
standing here in the car park, shouting, is not achieving anything
except to put on a show for that lot." I nodded back towards the
restaurant, where several interested faces could be seen watching us
through the large glass windows.

"I don't care," he said, much quieter.

"Why is it such a big deal that she told me about you anyway?"

"Because she's trying to turn you against me, just like she turns
everyone against me, just like she's done all the way through school. I
have no friends. Everyone thinks I'm weird because of her. Everybody
likes pretty Emma, and I'm her weirdo little brother who everybody
laughs at."

"I'm not laughing at you," I said. "And it doesn't matter to me that
you're gay. I have friends who are gay."

"Yeah, sure," he said bitterly.

"Look, get in the car and I'll take you back to my place and we can
talk properly, instead of discussing things here in public."

"I don't want to," said Jez, petulantly.

"Oh, well, if you want to act like a little kid, fine. But I'm going.
You can walk home."

"Fine."

He turned away and started walking towards the main road. I went to my
car and got in. Shit! I banged my hands down on the steering wheel. I'd
handled that pretty badly. One minute we'd been getting on great, and
the next we were brawling in public and I wasn't even sure exactly how
it had come about. In a way, I could understand how Jez felt about
Emma; she can be pretty vindictive when she puts her mind to it. It
must be tough growing up with a sister like that. Also, I liked Jez; he
was a good kid, and I really didn't want to part with him like this.
With a sigh, I started up the engine.

Jez hadn't got far. I drove slowly alongside him and wound down the
window. He deliberately ignored me and continued walking.

"Come on, Jez, get in," I said.

He glanced around at me and shook his head. "You only want me to get in
because you feel sorry for me."

I realised that this was partly true. "Yes, I feel a bit sorry for
you," I admitted. "But I like you as well. I don't know what we're
fighting about. It was Emma who gave your secret away, so why fight
with me about it?"

He stopped, causing me to have to brake. "Because she's not here and
you are," he said. There was a slight flicker at the corner of his
mouth as if he were starting to realise how silly this all was.

"Come on, get it," I said, opening the door for him.

He hesitated a moment and then climbed into the passenger seat. "I'm
only getting in because I want to have another ride in this cool car,"
he said.

"Sure," I grinned.

Trying to look as though he were doing it purely for my benefit, Jez
got into the car. He sat there with frown on his face.

"So, where do you want to go?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Home, I suppose."

"Yours or mine?"

He was silent for a moment then raised his eyes to look at me. He
looked sad. "Mine," he said.

"No problem," I said, as we set off down the road. "Look, Jez, I meant
what I said; it doesn't bother me in the slightest that you're gay."

He glanced up at me but then returned his gaze to the road ahead. He
didn't speak.

I tried to think of something else to say but his cool silence made
this difficult.

"You can drop me here," he said, as we approached the end of his street.

"I may as well take you to the house; we're nearly there anyway."

"No, I don't want you to," he said quickly. Then he looked around at
me. "I don't want Emma to know I've been with you," he explained.

"OK, if that's what you want," I said, pulling up to the kerb.

As the car came to a halt, Jez opened the door and put one foot out,
but then paused. Again he made eye contact with me. "I'm sorry about
earlier," he said. "Thanks for taking me to MacDonalds."

"Hey, it was nothing," I said. "Thanks for helping me with the cleaning
and stuff. And don't worry, I won't say anything about this morning to
Emma. It can be our secret."

"Thanks," he smiled, shyly. He got out of the car, but then bent and
put his head back inside the door. He looked at me, uncertainly. "Liam,
would be OK if I came round to your place sometimes? I won't get in the
way, I swear. And I won't come when Emma's there."

The request took me by surprise. What could I say? An open refusal
would probably upset him, and I really didn't want to do that. Besides,
up until the minor eruption after lunch, today had been sort of fun. "I
guess that would be OK," I said.

"Thanks," he grinned. "I'll see you around."

"Yeah, take care, Jez. I'll see you around," I replied. The boy seemed
to have a spring in his step as he strode towards home.

**********

Feedback is encouraged and always much appreciated. Email me at
gym@softhome.net or visit my discussion board at
http://www.gymnopedies.info for more stories, news and previews.

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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