My Brother's Best Friend - LGBT, boyXman

1

"Triss, time to get up. Breakfast in ten minutes."

My brother's loud voice woke me from my sleep.

Groaning, I pulled the pillow over my head and snuggled deeper beneath my duvet.

"Get up!"

Matt came into my room, yanked the bottom of my duvet and whipped the covers off my body.

I whined and curled up into a smaller ball.

"Up!"

I heard Matt leave the room again and sat up slowly, yawning and rubbing my eyes.

I levered myself out of my bed and stumbled across the hallway to the bathroom. I turned on the shower, held my hand underneath the jets of water until the temperature was right, stripped off my night-time boxers and stepped beneath the jets of water.

I squealed as the cold water woke me fully.

I waited until I was trembling violently, before turning the temperature gauge to hot.

As the water turned warmer, I picked up my shampoo and started lathering my dark hair.

I have nice hair, if I do say so myself.

Chocolate brown, thick and baby-soft, my hair is short at the back of my head and over my ears, and longer on the fringe. At the moment, it almost covers my eyes, but I am due a haircut next week.

I stepped out of the shower and towelled myself off quickly, before going back to my room.

I mused over my clothes for a while, pulling open the door of my large wardrobe and scanning the rails and shelves.

I rummaged through the trousers hung neatly on hangers and shirts folded tidily on the shelves for a while, before settling on a pair of black skinny jeans that hugged my long legs and showed off my round buttocks perfectly, a button-up black and white checked shirt, a white beanie hat and my favourite pair of white converse trainers.

I took my school books from yesterday's lessons out of my rucksack and put in today's, along with a library book that was due to be returned, and two of my Meat Loaf CD's; my friend Ava had asked to borrow them, and I had forgotten to give them to her the past three days.

I left my rucksack on my bed and went downstairs for breakfast.

Matt was stood beside the oven, already dressed in a freshly ironed, charcoal-grey suit. A thin, bright red tie hung neatly around his neck, and his black dress shoes were polished and shining.

I never knew our dad, who died when I was two, and mum left to be with her new boyfriend three years ago; the last we heard, she was living with him in Belgium.

Since then, Matt has looked after me. He's an accountant - a job that he hates, most of the time - but he makes plenty of money, even though he's only a junior in his office, so we're pretty well off.

"You took your time, Tristan." Matt grumbled, tipping scrambled eggs onto a plate and adding two rashers of bacon and a couple of sausages. "I've got to go now. We're trying those new accounts I told you about settled, so I'll be leaving early and getting back late the next couple of nights."

"Alright."

I tucked into my breakfast ravenously.

He doesn't have time to cook a lot, but Matt is really good at it when he does.

"I swear, you eat twice as much as I did at your age," Matt grumbled.

"And you were twice as big as me," I grinned cheekily. "Can I order a pizza or something for dinner tonight?"