Chapter Three

Chapter 3  

Controller

POV: Ethan

I kept my eyes on the sketchbook even after Lucas asked the question. My pencil stopped moving. The words hung there between us. Does it bother you? Of course it bothered me. He stood there without his shirt, skin still damp from practice, and I could not pretend I had not noticed.

I closed the sketchbook and set it on the desk. "I just think we should keep some space. Since we have to share everything now."

Lucas pulled on a clean shirt, but the smirk stayed on his face. "Space. Right. In a room this size."

He dropped onto his bed and picked up the game controller. "Come on. Parents are out again tonight. Let's play something before they come back with all their happy family talk."

I hesitated. Part of me wanted to stay at the desk and hide behind my drawings. But another part, the one that kept replaying his question, wanted to see what would happen if I did not hide. I grabbed the second controller and sat on the edge of my bed.

We started with a racing game because it seemed easy and loud enough to fill the quiet. Lucas won the first race easily. He laughed and leaned back against his pillows. "You drive like my grandma."

"Yeah, well, you play dirty," I said, trying to sound normal.

We switched to a fighting game next. That one got more physical. Lucas kept bumping my shoulder on purpose when he wanted to distract me. "Watch this combo," he said, and his character knocked mine out cold.

I shoved him back lightly. "Cheater."

He grinned and shoved me harder. "Not cheating if I win."

The game turned into a mess of button mashing and us laughing more than actually playing. At one point he lunged across the small space between our beds and tried to steal my controller. I held on tight, but he was stronger. We ended up wrestling for it, half on the floor, controllers forgotten.

His weight pressed against me for a second. His arm brushed my side. I felt the heat from his body through both our shirts. My heart slammed in my chest. I froze.

Lucas noticed. He paused, still half on top of me, breathing a little harder. His face was close enough that I could see the faint freckles across his nose. He did not move away right away.

"You are not as fragile as you look," he said, voice lower than before.

I swallowed and tried to push him off, but my hands stayed on his shoulders longer than they needed to. "Get off me."

He rolled away, but the air in the room felt different now. Charged. We picked up the controllers again, but neither of us focused on the game. I kept stealing glances at him. He kept smiling like he knew something I did not.

After a while we gave up on the game completely. Lucas turned off the TV and we just sat there on the floor with our backs against my bed. The house was quiet except for the occasional car passing outside.

"School starts soon," I said, picking at a thread on my jeans. "People are going to talk when they find out we live together."

Lucas shrugged. "Let them. I do not care what they say."

"You say that now. But you are the basketball star. I am the new kid who draws in the corner."

He looked at me sideways. "You think I only hang out with certain people?"

"I do not know. We did not exactly run in the same circles before."

He bumped my knee with his. "We do now. Same house. Same last name soon, probably."

That thought made my stomach flip. Same last name. Stepbrothers. The word felt heavier every time I heard it.

We talked more after that. Not deep stuff, but enough to fill the time. He told me about the pressure from his coach for the upcoming season. I told him about the art portfolio I needed to finish for college applications. Small things, but they felt real.

At one point he reached for the water bottle on my nightstand and his fingers brushed mine. Neither of us pulled away fast. The touch lasted maybe two seconds, but it sent a spark up my arm.

I pulled my hand back first and stood up. "I should get ready for bed."

Lucas stayed on the floor, watching me. "Yeah. Sure."

I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and change. When I came out, he was already in his bed, shirt off again, scrolling on his phone. I climbed into mine and turned off the lamp on my side.

The room went dark except for the glow from his screen. I lay there staring at the ceiling, replaying the wrestling match. The way his body had felt against mine. The low sound of his voice when he said I was not fragile.

I turned onto my side, facing the wall. This was dangerous. We lived together. Our parents were married. Any slip could blow everything up.

But I could not stop the thoughts.

Lucas set his phone down. The room went fully dark. I heard him shift in his bed.

His voice came quiet across the space between us. "You are not as fragile as you look, little brother. Wonder what else you are hiding."