Date: Tue, 29 Jul 2008 21:23:54 +0100
From: Gymnopedies <gym@softhome.net>
Subject: My Girlfriend's Brother 2

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 past 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.

**********

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