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Subject: Brotherly Games, Chapter 10 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: Delgrado@hotmail.fr 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 on: fty//authors.htmlmaxpotter Brotherly Games Chapter 10 Sunday morning’s sunlight was peeking through the curtains. Tim’s arm was crossed over my stomach, my back pressing against his chest and my bare butt against his crotch. He was snoring slightly in the small of my neck, his warm breath blowing on my skin. Feeling my boyfriend snuggled against me as I slowly awoke was really something I could get used to. I stirred a little and brought Tim’s hand to my face. I gently kissed the palm and brushed it on my face, caressing myself with his large hand. Eventually, the beast awoke. His soft snoring stopped and was replaced by a heavy sight and a barely audible moan. His semi-erect cock twitched, and I wiggled my butt against it playfully. Timoth�e got the hint. After dropping one last peck on the back of his hand, he browsed my chest down to my crotch. Timoth�e grabbed my morning wood and began gently stroking it. His warm lips kissed my neck as he ground his hardening cock against my expecting butt. I moaned when he playfully bit my earlobe, and his other hand grabbed my hair to make me turn my face to him. Our eyes met and we stared at one another lustfully. He was such a smoking hot stud, and I was his little slut of a boyfriend. I opened my mouth and we made out animalistically, his hand jerking my cock with even more passion now. Suddenly seeking to take this morning sex into my own hands, I roughly pushed Tim back, pinning him on his back on the mattress. He gave me a confused look and I smirked at him. I spat on my hand and wanked his massive dick, coating it in my spit. I repeated the process several times and when I did the same with my tight hole Tim finally understood what was about to happen. He crossed his arms behind his head and cockily glanced at me as I was getting prepared to ride his cock. I was on my handsome boyfriend, facing him, my dick pointing at the ceiling and my legs on each side of his thighs. I aimed his cock at my expecting hole and slowly pressed the tip against my butt. Despite not being a virgin any longer, his cock was still a challenge to deal with. Carefully, I used my body weight to fit his manhood inside of me. After a few minutes during which Tim patiently waited for me to accommodate his girth, I finally started really riding him. I still had sore muscles from the previous day’s hiking, using my thighs was fucking hell, but I wanted to be in control for once. I sucked it up and gripped Tim’s shoulder to gain leverage. His eyes were closed, and his face was twisted in pleasure. That was not enough, I wanted him to be enjoying himself so much that he would pass out, I wanted him to be drunk in sex and ecstasy. I thrust my butt up and down at such a pace that it seemed that I was riding a galloping horse, and in some way I was. I was moaning and sweating profusely, my thighs were burning, and my head was kind of buzzing, but it worked. Tim was grunting, his breath was erratic, he seemed in such a trance that I’m quite sure he was barely conscious of his surroundings. However, if he didn’t cum soon, my muscles would stop functioning altogether. I had to speed things up. Fortunately, I knew exactly what brought my boyfriend over the edge every-single-time. Dirty talk. “Fuck, your cock is so big!” I moaned in a high pitch tone. “I can feel your fat cock stretch my tight hole!” I confessed. He grunted as a sole response, but I knew he liked it from the way his face twisted when I talked. “I’m your fucking whore baby, you own my ass!” I added lustfully. “I need a real man like you to teach a faggot like me his place!” I told him. I almost chuckled at what I was saying. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love the dirty talk, but usually Tim was doing the talking. These words getting out of my mouth made me very self-conscious, I thought I sounded kind of ridiculous. Timoth�e, however, reacted exactly the way I wanted him to. In an animalistic grunt, his whole body tensed up and I felt his cock twitching in my hole as his balls flexed. As his orgasm was dissipating and he was catching up on his breath, I wanked my own dick. The pressure of his cock against my prostate, as well as the accumulated sexual excitement, meant that I only needed a few seconds to plaster my load on my boyfriend’s chest. When we both came down from our sexual cloud nine, I straightened up and pulled his cock out of me. I grabbed a rag from the nightstand and cleaned my man’s cock, chest, as well as my ass, from any remains of our morning `quickie’ (which wasn’t that quick, obviously). Taking me by surprise, Tim rolled over me and pinned me on my back on the bed, taking my wrists in his hands and preventing me from moving even an inch. “You’re damn right, I own your ass!” He told me in a deep, low, hoarse voice. “I own every inch of your perfect body and soul.” He added with an evil smirk. I looked back at him submissively, I already heard those words being pronounced about me, and not by him. “I love you.” I simply answered. I was being perfectly honest, I loved him, I was crazy about him. But he was not the one that ultimately owned me. I’m sure he took my answer as an approval of his claim and that worried me a little. But that was just sex talk, right? “I love you too baby.” He murmured before tenderly kissing me on the lips. He was still pinning me against the mattress, his hands clenched around my wrist. I returned the kiss, but he was getting me nervous. “Tim, can you let me go baby?” I eventually pleaded in a soft boyish voice. I know, I know, I have been saying that Timoth�e’s strength was not intimidating me but rather turning me on. Most of the time, it was still the case. Sometimes though, a twinge of doubt was browsing me; the further we went in our couple, the more I felt I was not allowed to refuse him certain things. Maybe I was being unfair, maybe I had no reason to doubt him whatsoever, but this was one of those moments. He leaned on me and kissed me one more time, slipping his tongue inside of my mouth and making out with me. Then, he released my wrists and jumped out of bed. A sigh of relief escaped my mouth, I hated myself in these moments, portraying my own boyfriend as some kind of predator. Urgh! Stupid paranoid Henri! “Let’s have a shower.” He suggested, winking at me. I smiled back at him and nodded sheepishly. My legs were flaky, it was barely 10am and I was already worn out. Great! “Morning, Uncle!” I joyfully said before dropping a wet loud peck on his cheek. I suppose he was a little taken aback by my tenderness, but he simply smiled back at me before kissing me on the cheek and ruffling my hair. For a long time, I had been keeping my feelings at bay. I was concerned about being rejected, crossing a line between what’s acceptable and what’s not when it came to displaying affection. Things changed, however. My life changed tremendously in the past three weeks. I decided that I would express my emotions as I saw fit. If I love someone, what’s the point of hiding it? Where’s the shame in having tenderness for one’s own family, friends, and lovers? From now on, I would be more expressive, and if someone doesn’t like it, who gives a flying fuck? “Are you boys hungry?” My uncle asked us casually. “Yep.” Timoth�e simply answered as he headed to the kitchen. “I bought some breakfast pastries at the boulangerie earlier this morning.” He then announced with a smile. “Croissant, chocolatines, chausson aux pommes, tresse au chocolat, chouquettes.” He enumerated enthusiastically in front of a very hungry Tim. “Gosh, you bought enough pastries for a whole infantry regiment!” I exclaimed with amazement. “Thank you, Uncle, you’re the best!” I promptly added with a grateful smile. I suppose he was feeling bad for telling me Dad’s homophobic anecdote the previous night. I wasn’t blaming him at all, I asked for it. I grabbed a plate and filled it with pastries before pouring myself a mug of hot chocolate. I then sat on the couch by the coffee table, next to my uncle. Tim joined us and sat next to me. I can’t really explain why, but I was in an affectionate mood. I kept kissing my boyfriend’s shoulders when my mouth wasn’t too busy devouring pastries, smiling at him like an idiot, very happy at the incredible weekend we just spent together thanks to Uncle David. “Prepare your bags when you’re done eating.” My uncle told us. “We’re leaving the chalet for lunch.” He explained. “Oh?” I exclaimed with a twinge of disappointment in my voice. “I thought we only came back to Toulouse around dinner time.” “We’re not driving back to Toulouse, yet.” Uncle David clarified. “We’re going out for lunch first. Then I thought we could drop by Sophie’s place (his ex-wife) for dessert? Guillaume and B�atrice will be there too, I usually have lunch there Sunday.” He suggested hesitantly. “Sure! That would be great!” I eagerly accepted. First of all, I felt bad for ruining Uncle David’s plan for the weekend so he could babysit his annoying nephew (Yeah, I should stop depreciating myself). Also, I was actually curious about meeting my cousins, it’s been such a long time. Tim and I headed back upstairs and packed our stuff before meticulously cleaning the bathroom, the bedroom, changing bed sheets, and vacuuming. When we were finally ready Tim grabbed his bag and was about to walk out of the bedroom. I grabbed his arm and pulled him to me instead. “Tim, I’m so glad we spent this weekend together.” I murmured as I wrapped my arms around him. “I wish it could be like that all the time!” I added with a faint smile. Tim kissed my hair and took a deep breath. “Me too Henri.” Tim admitted as he returned my gentle hug by pressing me against him. “I’m going to figure out something, don’t worry.” He promised me enigmatically. I broke the embrace and smiled at him lovingly. We headed downstairs together, and Uncle David was waiting for us in the living room. We left the chalet and hopped in the car. A wave of sadness browsed through me when the car pulled away and left the chalet. I wished for this trip to last a few more days, it was truly amazing for me to reconnect with my uncle and spend some quality time with my boyfriend. My only regret was that I wasn’t able to bring George with us. If we are ever coming back here, I will do my best to convince him. I’m sure he would have loved it. My brother might not be very good at communicating about his emotions, but I know he suffers from the lack of interest our family shows. I’m sure Uncle David and him could bond, and I’m going to make that happen! Uncle David brought us to an Italian restaurant in Saint-Gaudens. Considering that my uncle categorically refused Tim or I to pay for even the slightest thing throughout the weekend, I assumed he would pay for the restaurant as well, and I was feeling terrible about it. “What time are Guillaume and B�atrice expecting us?” I inquired before devouring a mouthful of Milanese scallop. “They have no idea you’re coming, for a start.” Uncle David answered with a mischievous voice. I shot him a confused glance. “It’s istanbul travesti going to be a surprise!” He added. “And it’s not going to be a problem?” I worried, feeling like I was intruding in their intimate family reunion. “Henri, believe it or not, you’re my nephew.” He announced me with a fake dramatic tone that mocked my concerns. “Which means, correct me if I’m wrong, that you are family.” He concluded with a chuckle. Tim laughed, probably inwardly thinking that I was always overly cautious and polite when it came to my family. “Yeah…” I said absentmindedly. “Yes, you’re right Uncle.” I concurred as if he just convinced me of something important. Partly because he did, I just worry too much about feeling like a waste of space, fuck that! Uncle David shot me an amused look and I felt his eyes scrutinising me. “You know, your Dad looked just like you when he was your age.” Uncle David told me thoughtfully. I smiled like an idiot and beamed with pride. I don’t know if it was meant as a compliment, but I was clearly flattered. Dad was a handsome man. “It’s funny, because I thought you were his spitting image when I saw you Friday!” I chuckled, blushing a little without really knowing why. “Incredible, right?” Timoth�e sneered playfully. “Just as if you were from the same family!” He laughed at our way to point out the obvious. I gently punched his shoulder as a retaliation (I mean, I could have punched him for real and he probably wouldn’t have felt it anyway). “Well, you look very much alike. I can barely distinguish the two of you to be honest.” Tim continued as my uncle laughed. “Is this a way to confess that you fancy my uncle, babe?” I teased before the three of us burst into laughter, drawing dirty glares from the nearby customers. After finishing our copious lunch, Uncle David paid the bill and we walked downtown a little bit. It was another sunny day, and we enjoyed the much-needed digestive walk. Tim was very tactile and affectionate, feeling more confident than when we left Toulouse two days earlier. I didn’t mind at all, even in front of my uncle. I knew I could trust him and that he didn’t mind. Being so carefree in front of my uncle was priceless. Free from judgment, awkwardness, and my uptight upbringing, I felt a wave of deep gratitude for my uncle wash through me. I smiled at him, and he returned that smile. At this very moment, I knew I wasn’t intruding, or ruining his weekend, I knew he was happy to be here with me, and I was so deeply moved that I could have cried (But I didn’t, because it would have been awkward, for real). After our little walk, we headed back to the car. Our next destination was Sophie’s house, in the little town of Montesquieu-Volvestre. Sophie’s house was everything you could expect a west southern French countryside house to be. White ancient stones and orange roof tiles, a luxurious garden with a pond and a vegetable garden, a chicken coop and, of course, a cosy outside terrace with couches and a coffee table. When our car parked in front of the house, I immediately spotted Sophie and my cousins sitting outside on the couches, drinking cups of coffee. I assumed they just finished lunch and were expecting Uncle David for dessert. Uncle David got out of the car. Timoth�e and I imitated him and even from afar I could tell the surprise on our hosts’ faces. I followed my uncle that walked in their direction, they stood up and when we were closer B�atrice’s face brightened and the confusion was replaced with a happy surprised expression. “Henri?” She exclaimed with a wide smile. Guillaume and Sophie’s face changed when B�atrice said my name, as if they suddenly recognised me. “Oh my god, it’s been such a long time!” She added excitedly before briefly hugging me and kissing each of my cheeks. “Hey cousin!” Guillaume said joyfully. “You’ve grown!” He pointed out with a nervous chuckle. Yeah, obviously I’ve grown, I was 12 years-old the last time we met one another. He kissed each of my cheeks and then Sophie did the same. “And this is Timoth�e!” My uncle introduced him to them while grabbing his shoulder friendlily. “Henri’s boyfriend.” He specified, grinning at me. My cousins exchanged amused looks, not mockingly or anything, but pleasantly surprised. “Nice to meet you dude.” Guillaume said, offering his hand to shake (Only friends and family kiss one another on the cheeks). Tim greeted them warmly, probably assuming that they were less uptight than my parents. “I’ve just spent the weekend being these two lovebirds’ third wheel. So, I thought I would share my burden with you!” Uncle David exclaimed joyfully. He then ruffled my hair affectuously, as to make sure I knew he was joking. “Well you’re right in time for dessert!” Sophie told him. “I hope you like Chocolate Tiramisu, Henri.” She then added, turning to me. “I love it!” I promptly admitted. Tim and I sat on the couch as Sophie headed inside to get the Tiramisu. B�atrice was sitting in front of us, scrutinising my boyfriend and me. Guillaume sat next to me and asked us if we wanted some coffee. I declined and Tim accepted. “I had no idea you were going to the chalet for the weekend. Dad never mentioned it!” B�atrice eventually said, shooting her father a playful glance. “Henri called me less than a week ago, it was his idea.” Uncle David answered as Sophie came back with the Tiramisu. “We’ve been hiking to the Lake d’Oo.” He added matter-of-factly. “You’ve been to the Lake du Portillon?” Guillaume inquired, a spark of excitement in his eyes. “No, I think Henri would’ve killed me.” Uncle David laughed. “The Lake du Portillon is even higher than the two lakes we’ve been. We would have been forced to sleep in a hiking lodge.” He then added to my intention. Urgh! As if the hiking we’ve been through wasn’t hard enough. “Oh sweet!” Tim exclaimed, suddenly very interested. “I think we need to go back baby!” He then told me. There is no fucking way Tim! “I’d love to tag along, if I’m invited.” Guillaume jumped in with a wide smile. Great, now there was no chance for Timoth�e to just drop it. “I bought George a mountain coat for his birthday, so he’d better join us too!” Uncle David announced with a mischievous voice. “Oh, when was George’s birthday?” B�atrice asked me. “It was Tuesday.” I answered. “He turned 17.” I specified, because I’m positive they wouldn’t have known for sure otherwise. To be honest, this little chat about our mutual lives was kind of dull, but the Tiramisu was divine. I shot my boyfriend a sidelong glance as I realised, he was enjoying it at least as much as I did. “Do you think I should ask her for the recipe?” I murmured at Tim hesitantly. “Fuck yeah!” Timoth�e chuckled. We smiled at one another complicitly and I turned to Sophie. “Sophie, would you mind sharing your recipe with me?” I tentatively asked. I knew that some people religiously kept their recipe secret and would never share them for a million �uro. Everyone seemed surprised by my request, but Sophie was beaming with pride. She straightened up in her armchair and raised her eyebrow. “Sure, honey!” She accepted. I inwardly cringed at being called “honey” but politely smiled. “I think you just made two boys very happy, Sophie.” My uncle giggled. “Three, I think we can reasonably assume George will like it too.” Timoth�e rectified playfully. We all laughed, and I felt good, the way a family is supposed to feel when spending time together. I followed Sophie inside and she showed me her recipe. I meticulously photographed the page from her recipe book on my phone and profusely thanked her. She called me “honey” once more while assuring me it was her pleasure and it still felt weird and cheesy. When we walked back outside Timoth�e was engaged in a passionate discussion about rugby with my uncle and cousins. One thing you need to know about Occitanie (Our region in France) is that people are crazy about rugby. We even gave our region the nickname of “Ovalie” (because rugby balls are oval). I couldn’t care less about sport, but I was always amazed at how quickly people’s opinion on Tim changed when they found out he was a rugby man. You could easily see the respect and admiration in people’s eyes, and my cousins were no exception. Now, is that why I felt the need to drop a peck on my boyfriend’s cheek as I sat next to him? Because I felt possessive? Because I wanted to show off? Because I wanted my boyfriend’s attention to be directed at me instead? Because I was complexed about not being an athlete? All of the above? Perhaps. “Oh my god you two are so cute!” B�atrice exclaimed enthusiastically after I kissed Tim’s cheek. My boyfriend then took my hand in his and glanced at me lovingly. Uncle David and Sophie exchanged knowing looks and grinned, but I had no idea why. We stayed outside for a whole other hour, playing cards, chatting, and joking together. I was having a blast, and I could tell Timoth�e was thoroughly enjoying himself too. The chalet, the raclette, the games in front of the fireplace, hell! Even the hike, I knew we’d have to do it all again. Only this time with George and my cousins. “Well, I think it’s time for me to bring you back to your orphanage.” Uncle David told me with a sly smile. “Do you need a ride back to Toulouse?” He then asked my cousins. “No, we’re fine. Thanks Dad.” Guillaume answered. I was conflicted; in one hand I was feeling sad that this perfect weekend reached an end, but in the other hand I was very excited to see my brother. The last time we saw one another was when he shouted at me in the middle of the night because I forgot to give him our parent’s credit card back. I hoped he moved over this, for this would have been some pretty stupid reason to be mad at one another for more than 24h. Truth was, I missed him already. We all stood up, but before I kissed everyone goodbye, there was something I needed to do. I wrapped my arms around my uncle and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Uncle! I had so much fun thanks to you!” I truthfully confessed. “I’m so sorry I haven’t reached out to you before.” I added as I broke the embrace with a faint smile. I could tell from his facial expression that he was truly taken aback by my hug. He gauged my face worriedly, as if he wondered if I was alright, but then he kissed my forehead. “I had a great time with you too Henri.” He declared with a tender smile. “I should be the one apologising, I just had no idea you cared about spending time with your old Uncle!” He chuckled, but I sensed he was sincerely sorry. He ruffled my hair and let me go. I kissed Sophie and my cousins goodbye, and we all agreed that we would meet again soon. I was beaming, knowing that I succeeded in reconnecting with a whole part of my family in the course of a few days. I was going to make sure these promises were not empty words. “Uncle, could we stop at the March�? I noticed the one here is open all day through and I wanted to get something to cook for tonight.” I boyishly asked as we hopped in the car. Uncle David nodded his approval and started the car. It was almost 6pm when Uncle David parked in front of my house, in Toulouse. Sky was getting darker by the minute and to be honest I was rather exhausted from my weekend. I planned on cooking the rabbit I bought with some mustard sauce and rice, eating with my brother and head straight to bed. Uncle David followed Tim and I inside of the house. He wanted to see George and hand him his birthday gift kadıköy travesti personally. The main door was unlocked, which meant that my brother was here. I shot a complicit smile at my uncle and we walked inside. “Henri! Where on earth have you been? I’ve been trying to call you for the past hour!” Mom angrily exclaimed as I walked in the living room. I was totally dumbfounded; I didn’t expect my parents to come back from Japan for at least another day. “Mom?” I blurted out with confusion. “I was just… I guess my phone didn’t…” I stuttered. “Good Evening Am�lie.” Uncle David greeted with a faint smile. “David! You two were together?” Mom asked, even though it must have been quite obvious that we walked together inside of the house. “David?” The unmistakable voice of my Dad exclaimed from behind me. I turned and Dad was standing at the bottom of the stairs, completely puzzled. “Hey Dad!” I greeted him, a little vexed that I wasn’t the first to get his attention. “I just came back from the chalet, I spent the weekend there with Tim and Uncle David.” I explained to my visibly utterly confused parents. “Well, someone had to take Henri to the Lake D’Oo one day or another!” Uncle David chuckled. Dad didn’t seem amused at all. He gave Uncle David a stern look. “Oh, I see.” He simply answered coldly. I’m not sure why Dad was pissed, I wasn’t under the impression that I wasn’t supposed to meet Uncle David, and they weren’t even there, so what’s the fucking problem? “George’s here? I’d like to give him his birthday gift.” Uncle David asked, breaking the awkward silence. My parents face completely changed, they seemed mortified. They didn’t…? No, that would have been ridiculous. They wouldn’t have forgotten George’s birthday, what a stupid thought. Of course not. Mom and Dad just stood there without reacting, growing panic seizing them even though I had no idea why. “George?” I called as no one would. Mom and Dad exchanged a look and I was becoming increasingly worried that something had happened to my brother. I sighed of relief when a few seconds later he rushed downstairs before stopping in his tracks when he caught the sight in front of him. “Uncle David!” He greeted sounding surprised. “Hi Timmy.” He added, knowing how much my boyfriend hated that nickname. “Hey dude.” Tim nonchalantly greeted back. George kissed my uncle’s cheeks, shook Tim’s hand and kissed my temple while ruffling my hair. “Happy birthday George!” Uncle David joyfully said. “I wanted to give you your present Friday, but you weren’t here!” He lied as he gave me a knowing smirk. “Really?” George asked, visibly surprised that our Uncle would get him something for his birthday. Uncle David handed him the bag and George opened it with a boyish expression. He got the large coat out of the bag and either he liked it or he is a damn good actor. “Wow, thanks Uncle!” He told him with a wide grateful smile. Our parents seemed very uncomfortable, but they managed to force a smile. “This way I know you’ll be equipped to join the mountain trip next time we’re going!” He explained, winking at me. “Would you like to stay for dinner, David?” Mom suggested politely. “We just came back so I’m not sure what’s expecting us in the fridge, but we can order in.” She added, making sure Uncle David couldn’t possibly accept. “No thank you but I need to go.” He declined politely. “Do you need me to drop you somewhere Tim?” He then asked my boyfriend. “Thanks, but my scooter is parked here.” Timoth�e declined, sounding uncomfortable. I couldn’t really blame him, the atmosphere was so fucking tense. “Thank you so much for inviting me David, I really had a great time this weekend!” He added gratefully. “Yes, thank you so much! I hope to see you again soon, Uncle!” I tenderly thanked him. He smiled at me and then turned to Dad. “It was nice to see you Phillipe, maybe we could catch up sometimes soon too.” He suggested with a sad smile. “Have a good evening Am�lie, see you soon boys.” He told us as he was about to leave. I waved at him and he walked out of the house, leaving an awkward silence after him. I looked at my brother and our eyes met, we glanced at one another knowingly, acknowledging the weirdness of this moment. “I missed you.” I eventually told my parents with a forced smile. Mom and Dad looked back at me and they seemed to relax a little. “We missed you too, son.” Dad said. “Do you want to stay for dinner Tim?” Mom inquired with a warm tone sounding very different to the one she used with Uncle David. “Thank you, Madame De Montpensier, but my family is expecting me.” He declined. “I should go actually.” He added matter-of-factly. He pulled me for a kiss, right in front of my fucking parents, and unabashedly dropped several wet pecks on my lips. My face was flushed, I dared not looking at my parents to see their reaction. George looked at my boyfriend sternly and slightly shook his head in disbelief. “See you tomorrow babe.” He murmured before walking out of the house. “What’s for dinner?” My brother asked, breaking the awkward silence. “I bought rabbit at the march�, I was thinking about a Lapin � la moutarde.” I answered George. “If that’s okay with you.” I added towards my parents. “Sure, I can help you with that.” Mom proposed kindly. I liked to cook with her, it was kind of our thing. I smiled at her and nodded, she followed me in the kitchen, and we started preparing the rabbit together. “How was Japan?” I sheepishly asked. I had almost never travelled anywhere, and I tremendously envied my parents trips around the world. “It was great! I love this country; everything is so well organised and clean!” She exclaimed enthusiastically. “How was your weekend?” She asked back with a mischievous voice. “It was great Mom! Uncle David was super nice, and we bonded so much!” I replied while smiling at myself. “I’m very happy for you Henri.” She told me faint heartedly. “Is… is Dad mad at me?” I worriedly inquired, dreading the answer. “No! No, your father is not mad at you sweetie!” Mom promptly answered with a reassuring smile. “He’s just… well… uh… I think he’s a little surprised, that’s all.” She evasively said. “And uh… he doesn’t get along very well with your uncle. Maybe he’s a bit jealous as well.” Mom mumbled, shaking her head hesitantly and shrugging. I frowned and looked back at her in disbelief. Jealous? Dad? But if he’s jealous, why on earth doesn’t he ever spend time with me, or my brother? That’s all I’m asking for, for fuck sake! “Why are Dad and Uncle David not getting along?” I questioned. Both of them seemed pretty laid back and honestly, I didn’t have the feeling that they were that different. Except that my uncle was far more liberal and less uptight. “Urgh! Your uncle always thought he could tell us how to raise you and your brother. He had an opinion on everything and was very vocal about it. He was a `knows it all’ all along, and I must admit both your father and I hated it.” She explained sounding irritated while reminiscing it all. “According to him we were the worst parents on earth!” She chuckled. “And look at you, handsome and smart, you turned out just fine!” She complimented me with a smirk. I smiled back at her tenderly. I still thought it was a pretty lame excuse for two brothers to fight about, but whatever. Mom and I switched the topics and she told me about Japan while we cooked together. Listening to her telling me anecdotes about their trip was quite fun and only further fuelled my desire to travel abroad at some point. When dinner was almost ready, she dressed the table while I headed upstairs to let Dad and George know we were about to eat. I knocked at my brother’s door and just informed him from the other side of the door without bothering walking in and then walked to Dad’s study. The door was ajar and I gently knocked, pushing the door open a little bit more. Dad was on his laptop, sitting at his desk, and looked up at me when he heard me. He weakly smiled at me, as if he was uneasy or embarrassed about something, and it broke my heart. “Dad, dinner is ready.” I informed him with a soft, submissive voice. “Ok, I’m coming.” He answered absentmindedly before turning his attention back to his laptop. I just wanted to jump in his arms and hug him, holding him tight against me, feeling safe, protected and above all loved from the man that raised me. But there was this distance between us, even more now than before. Was it because of the awkwardness of his encounter with Uncle David? Was it because of the anecdote I’ve heard about him being a homophobic bully? I couldn’t quite tell, but it made me sick in the stomach. With a twinge of sadness in my heart, I nodded and headed back downstairs. Dinner was weird, it was weirdly silent. Our family is rather reserved, we’re not usually laughing, joking, or even speaking loudly while eating together. These kinds of behaviours would have been considered inappropriate or not well mannered. Instead, our parents preferred small talks, unremarkable conversations, and superficial, non-problematic topics. Tonight was different though, not much was said. I followed Mom’s advice and didn’t mention our weekend with Uncle David, Mom and Dad were probably trashed from their flight and the jetlag, and George was awfully silent for some unknown reason. Usually, we would have watched some television together after dinner before heading to our bedrooms. Apparently, my parents weren’t up for it and were too tired, which I can understand, therefore they walked straight back upstairs after dinner. “Don’t forget to check on your brother’s homework, Henri.” Mom reminded me. “You’re his tutor now.” She added before wishing me goodnight and heading upstairs. I sighed, I completely forgot that I was supposed to tutor him. My brother and I didn’t even mention homework or even tutoring throughout the holidays. What a sorry excuse for a tutor was I! I followed Mom’s advice and a few minutes later I knocked on George’s bedroom door. Truth being said, I still had a difficult time adjusting to my new reality. George was still very much intimidating me; he was still my big brother and hero. Despite the two of us being arguably closer now, I still sensed that he was unreachable for me, I wasn’t his equal. He owned me, and in a sense, I feared him. I feared to disappoint him, that he would grow tired of me and just eventually reject me. I would do anything to convince him that I belonged in his life, that he needed me around. “Yeah?” George eventually answered casually. I timidly opened the door and closed it behind me. My brother was sitting by his desk, visibly playing videogames on his computer. He gestured to me to wait and finished something for a few seconds before pausing his game. “What do you want?” He then asked me as he turned on his chair to face me. I was kind of vexed by his question, I really missed him during the weekend and even though I clearly didn’t expect it to be reciprocated I still felt that his cold behaviour was uncalled for. “I…uh…well we need too…” I clumsily began to mumble as he stared at me sternly. “Are you still mad at me?” I impulsively inquired, confused by his behaviour. “What? No!” He answered with a hint of irritation. “Listen, I don’t care. Just don’t do it again ok?” He added as if I were completely stupid. I nodded defeatedly but I was still under the impression that I had done something wrong. He definitely was in bakırköy travesti a better mood when he took my cherry. “Uh… do you think we could check your homework together?” I hesitantly asked, knowing that this could quickly backfire if he thought I was patronizing him. “Just so we can prepare something for the tutoring of this week.” I reminded him in case he forgot. He rolled his eyes and snorted in disgruntlement. “Sure.” He answered coldly. He browsed through his schoolbooks and handed them to me. “Just bring them back when you’re done.” He instructed before turning back to his computer. I clearly specified that I wanted to check his homework with him, not alone in my room like I was his nerdy fanboy doing a jock’s homework. Bloody hell, I hated it when he was in one of those moods. I thought about reminding him that he swore not to treat me as a stranger, but I decided it would make no good at this point. I walked out of his room and headed to mine. I worked on his homework, writing corrections and explanations on a separate sheet for each class. I completely lost track of time and when I finished it was already late. I sighed and cursed myself for being so damn submissive. Thank god, my brother was the only person I would do something like that for. When I came back to George’s bedroom with the books and corrections, he was already getting ready for bed. He wore his grey briefs and was about to take off his sweatshirt. I leered his smoking hot body and he grinned at me when he caught me staring. I gulped and looked the other way before putting his books on his desk. “I’ve written my suggestions on separate sheets. You can do whatever you want with them.” I humbly said even though I knew my suggestions were accurate. He simply shrugged and didn’t seem to care in a bit. Urgh! I just spent three hours working on your fucking homework, at least pretend you care! “Goodnight then?” I eventually said, clearly frustrated that he wouldn’t give me any kind of attention. When I collapsed on my bed, I was feeling down. I should have felt great; I had every reason to feel good and that angered me even more. Now that Tim wasn’t around, my insecurities grew inside of me. I sighed heavily and tried to focus on happy, relaxing thoughts. I closed my eyes and slowly drifted to sleep. When I woke up, I first thought it was time to get ready for school. I quickly realised that it was 4.am and that I just badly needed to drink because my throat was sore and dry. I slipped in some sweatpants and didn’t bother with a t-shirt. I headed downstairs and poured myself a glass of fruit juice to smother my sore throat. I was about to push my bedroom door and simply slip back in bed when I noticed the study’s lights were on. I thought Dad simply forgot to turn them off so I decided to do it. I gently opened the door, cautious not to be noisy, when I realised Dad was at his desk, on his laptop. Our eyes met and he shot me a puzzled look, raising his eyebrow. “Oh, sorry Dad! I thought you forgot to turn off the lights.” I apologised with a hoarse voice. “You’re not sleeping?” He simply asked me. “I just needed to drink.” I truthfully answered with a faint smile. “You’re jetlagged?” I inquired with a soft boyish voice. “Yes, pretty much.” He confessed with a light chuckle. “I still wonder how your Mom gets over it with so much ease.” He added matter-of-factly. Maybe it was because it was 4 in the morning and I was tired, maybe it was because George treated me like shit, maybe just because at some point I had to, but I asked. “Dad, are you ashamed of me?” I bluntly asked out of the blue, giving voice to my ongoing thoughts. Immediately after asking the question, I expected to feel terrible, but I was so relieved I managed to get the words out of my goddamn mind. Dad, though, looked utterly shocked. He was completely dumbfounded for a few seconds, his mouth agape and his eyes staring at me with disbelief. “What?” He eventually asked as if he doubted, he heard me correctly. “Why would you… what on earth are you talking about Henri?” He angrily replied. “I… I don’t know, I just… sometimes I just feel like I’m disappointing you.” I confessed wholeheartedly. I knew it wouldn’t take me much more to get very emotional. “How?” Dad questioned, looking like he didn’t get what I was talking about. I sighed and gulped painfully. I had no idea how deep I could go in this conversation before starting to sob like a fucking baby. I shrugged and glanced at him briefly before looking away. I couldn’t stand his eyes scrutinizing me, I felt super vulnerable at this moment. “Me being gay.” I mumbled in an unarticulated voice. My face was flushed, and I was a nervous wreck. I dreaded his reaction, but I needed to know at the same time. “I told you I don’t have any problem with…” He began before interrupting himself and displaying a thoughtful expression. “Wait… Why are you asking that?” He inquired accusingly. “Have you talked about that with your uncle?” He insisted as panic was building inside of me. “What did your uncle tell you?” He asked in a more assertive way. I was busted, my heart was about to jump from my chest. “He told me that you didn’t like gays when you were in Lyceum.” I admitted hesitantly, seeing no point in denying what he already knew anyway. “He told me about you and that gay boy that attempted suicide.” I concluded, painfully getting the words out of my mouth. I glanced at my Dad and that was everything it took for me to feel tears building up. I quickly looked away, but my lips and chin were already wavering, betraying my impending tears. Dad rubbed his forehead with his hand and shook his head in disbelief. “What a fucking piece of shit.” He mumbled in a cold rage. I had almost never witnessed Dad swearing, so it was pretty intimidating for me to know he was truly losing his composure. He pinched his lips, and I could tell he was doing his best to maintain some self-control. “I can’t fucking believe he told you that, he had no right… no right…” He fumed between his grinded teeth. So, it was true. Inwardly I had hoped that Uncle David was lying, or that he misunderstood the whole situation. I guess I would have been willing to believe Dad even if he pulled up some lame excuse. I was simply dying to believe anything else than that, but it turned out to be the simple truth. I wanted to be strong. I already felt like Dad indirectly confessed that he was ashamed of me, at the very least for being gay. I had no intention to cry and look like a pathetic wimp in his eyes, but my emotions simply overwhelmed me. Silently, my vision was getting blurred with tears. I hid my face with my hands in shame and began shaking. I had no idea what Dad was doing or the face he was making at that very moment. Suddenly, as I used all my willpower to keep some kind of composure and dignity, I felt his hand on my shoulder. “Henri, I just…” Dad softly told me before sighing heavily. “Why don’t you sit down for a moment. Please.” He then suggested while guiding me to sit on a chair by his desk. He then sat on the edge of his desk, right in front of me. As I shot a nervous glance at him, it was obvious that he was very uncomfortable and it made me feel super guilty for being such a pain in the ass on the very first day he came back to France. “I’m sorry Dad.” I whispered with my head down. “I wish I could be more like you want me to.” I confessed defeatedly. “Henri, please!” Dad protested vigorously with a serious voice. “Just let me speak, it’s important.” He added with a softer tone. I stared back at him submissively, full of hopes and love, as well as fears and insecurities. He remained silent for a moment, visibly looking for the right words. “There is something you’ll understand when you’ll have children of your own.” Dad eventually began. “Everything you think you know about yourself can suddenly change.” He explained. “You don’t know much about your grandparents, but they were very conservative, strict, and religious. It was a different time altogether, but my parents were bigots even by these years’ standards.” He confessed with a thoughtful voice. “Today, I’m not proud of what I made this gay kid endure. At the time though, I couldn’t see anything wrong with that. I had been taught that `people like him’ were sexual deviant, paedophiles, rapists. Then, society changed, I changed too. I met your mother who was a progressive independent young woman and she changed me. She opened my eyes on many things I believed to be true, but were just plain wrong.” He continued before pausing and sighing heavily. I listened to him carefully, but he avoided eye contact as he spoke. “And then we had our two boys together. You were quite different from the very beginning. George was very independent, daring, sportive, and stubborn. You were reserved, shy, sensitive and obedient.” He enumerated with a faint smile. I gulped, feeling very self-conscious as he pointed out all the characteristics I hated about myself. “Now, I’m not going to pretend I didn’t try to make you more self-confident, more independent, hmm… yes, a bit more like your brother.” He admitted, as my heart sank. “But! But it wasn’t because I was ashamed of you Henri!” Dad promptly specified. “I just wanted you to feel good, to be your own man, to trust your own decisions and wisdom.” He described with a hesitant voice. “Perhaps I was wrong. But when we realised how harsh could your brother be with you, we just had to step in, to protect you. I was, and still am, worried about you. I just wanted you to be safe and happy. I guess I could have done things differently, I probably would now. But, please Henri, believe me, everything I did was out of love and concern. I am not ashamed of you, and I love you very much.” He concluded before sighing and finally looking at me in the eye. “I’m fine Dad, you don’t need to worry about me.” I tenderly said, deeply moved by his explanation and feeling guilty for misjudging him so much. “But I do.” He shot back with a serious tone. “You being gay doesn’t bother me in the way that you think.” He told me as I shot him a confused glance. “It’s just… Now I’m going to worry about if your boyfriend treats you well, if you are going to end up being assaulted or discriminated against, if you will be able to have kids of your own…” He confessed defeatedly. “I don’t worry nearly as much about your brother.” He chuckled before smiling at me faint-heartedly. “Well, I do.” I replied with a nervous laugh. Dad looked back at me with a quizzical expression. “I do worry about George.” I clarified. “I can tell.” He answered with a knowing smile. “Just be careful okay? Your brother can be… careless.” “I will be careful.” I lied. “But you need to trust him! I trust him, and I love him.” I pleaded with a soft tone. Dad nodded and ruffled my hair. I got up and was about to walk out of the study when suddenly I had an impulse to hug Dad. Why the fuck not after all? I turned and opened my arms before wrapping them around him and holding him tightly against me. I could tell he was taken aback but he quickly returned my hug and I sighed of relief against his shoulder. “I missed you Dad! I love you so much, you know.” I confessed with a shaky voice. He kissed my forehead tenderly and I felt like this was the safest place in the world. “Off to bed now, before your mother realises, I’ve kept you up so late!” He chuckled before breaking the embrace. I nodded and kissed his cheek before walking back to my bed and collapsing on the mattress. **** 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: Delgrado@hotmail.fr

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