My...Stepbrother? [boyxboy]

My...Stepbrother? {8}

                “Kory! Bad boy! Sit! Stay!”

                “NO! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME! NARGH!”

                Mom sighed in annoyance and flicked my nose. I hissed and swatted my hands at her. I bared my teeth and growled when she grabbed my wrists.

                “HELP! STOP; DON’T TOUCH ME THERE THIS IS MY PRIVATE SQUARE R-A-P-E GET YOUR DICK OUT OF ME!” I screamed and tried to struggle out of her grip.

                “Kory, you are impossible! Only you could run a fever and still put up a fight about staying in bed and resting!” she cried, frustration clear on her face.

                “Mom you know I can’t just sit in bed! I did that all freaking day yesterday!” I whined, slumping against my pillows and crossing my arms stubbornly, glaring.

                Mom rolled her eyes at me. “Kory, that’s because you just woke back up yesterday. Your fever may have broken over night, but it’s back now. So please just rest in bed for one more day,” she said, a forced patience in her voice.

                “No! I won’t do it! YOU’LL HAVE TO KILL ME FIRST!”

                “Your fever is going to kill you before I get the pleasure!” she snapped.

                “Pleasure?! How rude!” I cried and pouted.

                “Will you shut up? You’re so loud!” Trace snapped, popping into my room and glaring at me in annoyance. Sheesh, he was always annoyed, wasn’t he? I’d probably get bored from being that annoyed all the time.

                “Hey, I’m the sick one!” I argued, sticking my tongue out at him.

                “So you shouldn’t be so loud,” he grumbled.

                I opened my mouth, snapped it shut, opened it again, and shut it again. Trace looked pleased that he had shut me up. Well now, I couldn’t let him keep me quiet! Psh. Nothing and no one could keep Kory Arnold-Saunders quiet!

                “I scored on you!” I said with a smug grin.

                Trace’s pleased look was wiped off his face and he glared at me. “It was luck! It was raining and the ball was wet,” he growled.

                I shook my head, my smug grin getting even wider. “Excuses, excuses! It wasn’t raining when I shot the first time,” I pointed out.

                He pointed a threatening finger at me. I raised my hands in defeat. “Whoa, don’t shoot me with your finger. You could kill someone like that,” I said with a frown.

                He flipped me off and glared harder. “When you’re better, you’re going to come practice with me and Zeke. You won’t keep scoring on me like that,” he assured me fiercely.

                I chuckled, coughed, and shrugged. “Sure, Trace. Sure,” I said with a wink. I buried my mouth in my elbow as I coughed a few more times. Mom handed me a tissue and I blew my nose and made a disgusted face.

                “Gross. I hate snot,” I said as I chucked the tissue in the garbage that they had placed next to my bed. I moved to get out of bed, but my mom basically body slammed me back onto my bed. I winced and gave her puppy dog eyes.