A pest in the house

THEO

We won.

Loud cheers erupted amongst the crowd as my teammates hoisted me over their shoulders, the entire field chanting out my name as well as the name of our team. It was the third game—we'd lost to them in the first, barely drew the second, and finally, we won this round.

Being captain came with lots of responsibilities, and this once, I'd felt sick to my belly thinking we'd actually lose. My eyes had remained on the sponsors, the chances of being at nationals, and fucking things up this last time was going to wreck me.

“We fucking won!” Trevor retorted, slamming his palms into my chest with a smile while the others stormed into the locker room. We all took turns stripping off our gear and walking toward the bathroom.

“Coming to the party?” Derek asked, standing right by my stall as I turned on the showers.

“Get out, Derek. I'm busy. And yes, I would… now stop being a pervert and get off.”

“Oh, I would… in the stall next to you. Would you mind helping out with that?” Derek quipped in, low snorts and hoots came from the team, but it was the boys being stupid. I'd gotten used to it. I slammed shut the door to my stall, letting the water wash off every stress I'd felt deep in my bones for about two weeks already. I sighed, tilting my head backward as my hands roamed around my body.

My dick twitched on impulse, urging. Frustrated, I huffed. I wrapped my hand around the shaft, giving it a slow pump and then it sprung to full life—hard as fuck. I could hear water running from the stall next to me now. That was hot as fuck. My mind wandered off a bit. Was Derek also jerking off? What did he look like? Was he hard? Throbbing just like I was right now?

Precum pooled from the tip of my cock, earning another sigh as I bent my head, working my palm on my cock. My teeth dug into my lower lip to muffle my moans as I worked my fist faster, thrusting my hips as I fucked my fist.

“Theo!” The coach's voice boomed in the stalls.

“Fuck. Fuck?!” I cursed, peeling my hand off my dick so fast and turning on the shower to wash off the sticky precum, my boner instantly going soft.

“Are you dead in there or something?” Coach’s voice snapped again. He was an antsy little thing, and judging by his words, it was important. I yanked at the towel, wrapped it around my waist before walking out.

“You made it! The sponsors! They've scheduled a meeting in a week, Theo.”

My heart raced in my chest, instant relief settling into me. I made it… finally. All that hard work—it was worth it.

“Fuck, man, you scared the shit out of me knocking like that,” I admitted. He snorted, rolling his eyes before giving me a light tap on my shoulders.

“Get outta here… I'll mail you the details. And congratulations, boy.” He walked away just as soon as he was done speaking. I'd taken that as my cue to wriggle into my clothes. The other boys seemed to be in their stalls at the moment. I reached for my phone to see I'd gotten a text from Mom and four other calls.

“Meet  as soon as you see this. Hurry.”

My gut twisted seeing her message. I didn't know what this was about, but it had me worried. Swallowing hard, I yanked my bag, tossing it over my shoulder before storming out.

“Leaving! How about the party?” Trevor asked in time, peeking out of the stall.

“Mom texted…”

“Oh, no shit. Stay safe,” he offered, not bothering to change my mind. They all knew I never joked with things when it ran down to my mother. And seeing her text me so suddenly? I hated it.

I unlocked my bike at the parking lot, locked in my helmet before kicking off. She knew I'd be off at the party, busy. After games, she never texted me. So whatever this was, that had her texting me so urgently—it seemed to be deadass important.

The drive home was a short distance of twenty minutes, and I'd gotten to the garage in no time. Except a chill seeped down my spine seeing my stepfather’s car in the driveway. My mood soured instantly.

He was never home. And no, I didn't hate him. It was… mid.

It’s been over two years since he married my mom. Thanks to him, I could live all the life I wanted, except he had no ties to spend a dime on my interest in football. He called it a hobby and would rather I graduated and took a job in his bar. He was a lawyer—a high-paid one, really, working with the president. Governors. Things like that.

I was well off, gladly above average. I could be called a kid amongst the one percent, except I did want a name and life for myself and by myself. I took his money, stocked it up in a bank account, but I was determined not to spend any of it on my future. After all, he'd refused to help, which was why I was down bad desperate to have the sponsors on my side. And now all I needed was one last meeting next week for all to be finalized.

Pressing in the passcode to the entrance, I’m greeted by the unnecessarily large space of a seating room—which I'd gotten used to—except it wasn’t empty.

“Theo,” Blake called, a curt smile on his face and a slow nod as he gestured for me to sit right next to him.

“Blake… I'm surprised to see you are home,” I greeted. We were both on first name terms—not that he minded anyways.

“So am I too.”

Mom had taken that as a cue to walk in, a tray in her hands, placing whatever fruit bowl it was right in front of Blake. And for once, she didn’t ask me how the game was, didn’t smile, didn’t even acknowledge my presence. It looked as though she was pissed about something. And to get my mom mad? You must have done something way extreme.

“So… I kinda came here in haste, how about we skip to the part where you tell me you both are getting divorced or some sort of shit?” I spoke, chirping in hastily. I didn't entirely seem excited by that announcement, but I’d rather just get over it quickly.

“Divorced?” Blake asked, holding out a bark of laughter. “Of course not, Theo. What's that nonsense all about?” Blake asked, finally setting down his phone. My eyes lingered on that of my mom's, but she said nothing at all.

“Then a mistress? A new wife? C’mon, you both are killing me here!” I retorted, shattering the silence between them.

“How about you help with the explaining, love? You seem quite good with things like this,” Blake spoke softly, passing all attention to my mom. She loved Blake, yes. She respected him, yes. But seeing her act up made me really edgy.

“There’s someone you need to meet. Blake found out two months ago about some affair he had when he was younger.” I gulped hard, my heart beginning to pick up pace, slamming hard against my ribcage. Were we moving out? Was something wrong?

“She died a year ago. Terminal illness. But apparently, she had a son. He got to find out two months ago, and he’s taken him in. Says it’s better he meets family. His name’s Hunter, and he’s just around your age. He’s—”

“Bullshit!” I seethed, standing abruptly to my feet when the sounds of footsteps approached us. I dropped my gaze in the direction, watching as a boy approached us.

He had piercings  everywhere. His nips, ears, lips, eyebrows. His hair was ink black, almost like ink, and tattoos scattered across his arms, his chest, covering everywhere on his body. And hanging low on his hips? my towel!. 

In his mouth? My toothbrush.

“Those are mine!” I growled, hatred blooming in my heart immediately.

“Oh, you must be Theo… Theodore,” he whispered, testing out the name on his tongue.

“I like it,” he whispered again with a smug smirk and a sinful grin that had a chill running down my spine.

“Theo… meet your stepbrother. Hunter. And you both will be living together henceforth, while your mother and I move back to Italy.” Blake’s voice echoed amongst the hallway as my face paled of color while my world crashed instantly into darkness.