My...Stepbrother? [boyxboy]

My...Stepbrother? {26}

                I went downstairs after grabbing my phone and iPod and looked around. “Mom, where’s Trace?” I asked, going into the kitchen.

                She looked up to answer and her eyes widened. I mentally punched myself. The bruise! Shit! I forgot about the bruise and the hickey!

                “Kory, who hit you? Was it Trace?” mom asked flatly, standing up and coming over to get a better look at the bruise.

                “No! It wasn’t Trace!” I cried honestly.

                “Who?” she demanded.

                “Well, you see…I, uh, stubbed my toe on the counter. So I yelled out ‘GOD DAMN COUNTER!’ and, you know, that’s using the lord’s name in vain. He got mad that I did that, so the big guy in the sky just came down and punched me in the eye. Told me not to do it again,” I babbled nervously.

                “Kory! Who the hell hit you?” mom demanded angrily.

                “Mom, it doesn’t matter! Trace and Zeke took care of it! I swear,” I said gently.

                “I thought you and Zeke broke up?” she asked.

                I nodded in confusion. “We did,” I said. What? Zeke couldn’t stand up for me just because we had broken u- Shit.

                “So who gave you that?” mom asked, pointing at my neck. Shit, shit, shit! I nervously pulled my shirt up to cover it.

                “Gave me what? I think you’re seeing things. You should probably lay off the drugs you crack whore. Oh gosh. I didn’t mean to call my mom a crack whore. I meant…well, stop doing drugs! Are you crazy? They’re bad for you!”

                Mom slapped a hand over my mouth before I could continue and I resisted the urge to lick her hand. She raised an eyebrow at me and slowly removed her hand.

                “Kory, as your mother, I would like to know who is sucking my son’s neck that hard,” she said simply.

                “Well, as your son, I would like to plead the god damn fifth!” I said defensively, swatting my hands at her.

                “Kory, what have you been doing and who have you been doing it with? Just tell me. I won’t get mad at you,” she said, looking into my eyes.

                “I, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t do anything. Nothing bad. Nope, Kory’s a good boy. Like the movie. Remember that movie? With the alien dog? Ah, good movie. So the weather seems ni- I SWEAR I’M INNOCENT!” I cringed back at my own lame voice.

                Mom eyed me carefully before shrugging. “Just tell Trace not to break the skin next time he gives you one of those. And tell him if he hurts you, I’ll kick his ass,” she said with a wink before walking away and out the side door.

                I stood, my mouth hanging open in shock. She…but…I…and…bananas…and…Trace…and…WHAT THE FREAKING WHALE SPERM JUST HAPPENED?!

                How did my mom know it was Trace who gave me the hickey? Did Brandon know? Was he mad? Where was Trace? Did Trace know our parents knew? Was it only my mom that knew? Why did I always use so many freaking question marks? Was there a law against that many question marks? Was I going to jail? Prison? Getting raped by someone who wasn’t my sexy stepbrother? Ew…