Art Project [BoyxBoy]

Sneaking Out

(Skylar)

My eyes flew open as I gasped for air. Panting fo air, I glanced around my bedroom.

What the hell?!

"Morning, sunshine." My step brother glared at me, crossing his arms across his small chest.

That twerp, he held my nose to wake me up. I practically sneered.

His hair was a Carmel brown, swooping across his face in a fringe. His brown eyes always showed unless he was sad or tired (since he would cover his face with his hair). My step brother was also one year younger at age sixteen but still not driving, it freaked him out.

He moved in seven years ago when he was only nine. We haven't gotten along since.

I pulled Damian (my step brother) onto the bed with me snuggling into him, a smirk creeping onto my face. He yelled a protest but I just flipped us onto our sides where his leg wrapped around my hip. I ignore the disgusted feeling I get from even touching this grumpy shrimp— knowing It'll piss him off? Worth it.

"Mm," I hummed and snuggled into his odd warmth.

"Get off me!" He yelled and tried to move. It didn't work out; my muscles against his skin and bone?

Yeah... not happening.

And if you see this as some cute love story or some brotherly teasing love - you are deadly wrong. I'll probably need disinfect spray after this. Not because he's a guy and I'm a guy - I'm not homophobic or anyhting - I just hate him.

I kiss his cheek, mentally cringing, but nuzzle his neck afterwards.

"Poor baby Damian," I tease, saying his name in such passion, trying to make him even more angry with me.

He growled.

Feisty now, are we?

"Boys, breakfast is ready!" I heard mom yell for us.

I sprung upfrom my position causing Damian to fall down awkwardly on the floor as I raced out of my room. I heard him mumble a revenge threat but ignored it, smelling the home made breakfast.

I sat at the table with Mom and Bill and grimace seeing Damon taking the only extra seat; beside me. He scooted as far away as he could which wasn't enough since if one of us scooted two inches, our thighs would touch.

Our parents remained oblivious as usual, chewing into their meals. I sighed, picking up a egg with my fork and shoving it into my mouth. We only have this dinner on Mondays; when my parents don't have to go to work until nine in the morning while right now, it's seven am. I know Mom and Bill want to be there for us but with their work, they work all week. Bill's a state sheriff (who just got promoted) and Mom is a therapist for crazy people - what was that called again? But, anyways, she works all week like Bill and the only day they can eat break fast is on Mondays when they can come in three hours later than they usually would be in for.

Mom smiled at me, then handed me a thin square shape wrapped in Toy Story paper. I raised an eyebrow, this was obviously a CD. Then it hit me, the new Secondhand Serenade album I asked for last week.

I grew pink at the idea of what Damian would say if he saw this. I quickly put the CD on my lap (under the table) and turned my face from Damian so he couldn't see my visible embarrassment.

"Thanks, Mom." I said uneasily, most the time she buys me the stuff I want in for something in return - something I won't like.

Her smile grew. Damian shifted awkwardly in his seat.