My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 244: When Your Ex Still Feels Like Home

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"Or the reason is..." he murmured, searching my eyes. "Because of that absurdly good heart of yours. No one else would do this, sneak into a house that’s basically a fortress, dig through someone else’s mess, comfort the nephew of the guy who might’ve played a part in Adrien’s mom’s death, all for a jerk who used to make your life a nightmare. You’re too good, Noah. Always have been."

I tried my best not to lean into his touch, not to let my eyes flutter closed or my shoulders drop in surrender. My mind kept sending frantic reminders: We’re on a break. You’re betraying him by being with Adrien. You can’t just melt because he’s touching you like this.

But man, I missed it. I missed Ethan’s warmth, the steady pressure of his hands, the way he made the world feel smaller and safer just by being this close. Two weeks without this, without him and I hadn’t realized how cold I’d felt until just now.

I managed a small, shaky laugh, hoping it came off steadier than it felt.

"Adrien’s still a jerk sometimes," I said, my voice quieter than I intended. "But... he’s better now. A lot better. He actually asked for forgiveness, like, really asked, not just hinted at it and he meant it. I forgave him because I could see he’d changed."

Ethan’s thumbs paused for a moment, then continued their slow, absent circles against my skin.

"Yeah?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Forgiveness is a big word."

I nodded, swallowing hard. "It is. But holding onto hate forever seemed heavier than letting go. And honestly?"

I let out a tiny, teasing smile. "Just wait. Soon you’ll see it too. You and Adrien will be best buddies. Matching friendship bracelets, inside jokes, the whole deal. I can totally picture it, matching tattoos that say, ’I used to hate you but now we’re cool.’"

Ethan’s face contorted into the most dramatic grimace I’d seen in weeks, his eyebrows shooting up, mouth twisting like he’d tasted something sour.

"Gross, not happening," he shot back flatly. "Not in this lifetime. Not even if the world ends and we’re the last two people left with a single protein bar to share. I’d rather eat the wrapper."

I laughed, this time it was real, bubbling up and breaking the heaviness that had settled over us. The air shifted between us, warming and softening into something almost sweet.

I was still half in his arms, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him, and he was looking at me like I was the only solid thing in a world that felt like it had just tilted.

"You know," I said softly, "it might seem crazy, but you two are more alike than you want to admit. Stubborn, loyal to a fault, terrible at asking for help, secretly soft under all that sarcasm. I care about both of you more than I probably should."

The words hung in the air, honest and raw, and I watched realization flicker across Ethan’s face. His expression softened, his gaze dropping to my mouth for just a moment before lifting again.

We were so close now, his hands still holding my face, my body nearly tucked against his chest and I could see the exact moment he thought about it. Just a small dip of his head, a brush of lips, and two weeks of aching absence could vanish in one kiss.

I looked up into those beautiful blue eyes, the ones that always felt like summer skies and whispered promises, and I realized with a jolt that I wouldn’t mind at all. Not even a little. My heart raced against my ribs, part longing, part guilt, part pure desire.

I missed his mouth on mine, missed the way he kissed like he was trying to memorize me, missed the safety of feeling so completely wanted.

Ethan’s gaze darkened, his pupils widening, and his thumbs brushed along my jaw again, slowly... like he was giving me every chance to pull away. I didn’t. For one suspended second we hovered there, our breaths mingling, the night air cool against my flushed skin.

Then he blinked, swallowed hard, and abruptly let go, stepping back as if the contact had burned him. His hands dropped to his sides, fingers flexing like he didn’t know what to do with them anymore.

"Sorry," he said, his voice rough and awkward. "I didn’t—I shouldn’t have—"

Disappointment curled sharply in my chest, followed by a sudden sense of loss as his warmth slipped away, like someone had pulled a blanket off me in the middle of winter. I wrapped my arms around myself instinctively, trying to hold onto the ghost of his touch.

"It’s okay," I said quickly, forcing a small smile even though it felt shaky. "Really. It wasn’t a problem."

He exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thanks for checking on me," he said after a moment, quieter now. "I feel... better. A lot better."

I managed a genuine smile this time, softer. "Anytime, blondie."

He nodded toward the open balcony doors. "We should probably head back inside before Adrien starts thinking we’ve run off to join the circus or something."

I laughed under my breath. "He’d probably think we’re plotting his murder."

"Wouldn’t be the worst idea," Ethan said, but there was no heat behind it, just tired affection.

We walked back through the mansion together, our shoulders brushing every few steps, the silence between us feeling easier now, less jagged. The long hallways seemed less oppressive, the shadows less intimidating.

When we stepped back into the study, Adrien was still hunched over the old desktop, the blue glow of the screen casting sharp, tired angles on his face. A USB drive was already plugged in; he was methodically copying files, his jaw set, eyes narrowed like he was trying to force the machine into submission.

He glanced up when we entered, his gaze jumping between Ethan’s slightly red eyes and the space I was keeping between us. For a moment something unreadable flickered across his face, maybe concern or a hint of jealousy, before he masked it.

"Find anything else?" I asked, stepping closer.

Adrien ejected the USB with a soft click and slipped it into his pocket.

"Enough for now," he said, his voice flat. "Bank records from years ago, some encrypted notes mentioning ’JF settlement’ and ’contingency fund.’ Nothing definitive yet, but it’s a start."

He stood, shoulders tense. "We need to go. Before he decides to come home early and finds us playing treasure hunt in his office."

Ethan nodded, already moving toward the door. "Let’s get out of here."

I lingered for a moment, watching Adrien shut down the computer with efficient movements. He looked defeated, not broken, but worn down, like the weight of the night had settled deeper into his bones.

I wanted to reach for him, to offer the same steadying touch I’d given Ethan, but the moment felt too fragile, too filled with everything unsaid.

Instead, I just asked quietly, "You okay?"

Adrien met my eyes, the corner of his mouth lifting in the smallest, tired half-smile.

"Not even close," he admitted. "But I will be. Eventually, after the catch those fuckers."

He brushed past me on his way to the door, his shoulder grazing mine, just a fleeting touch that sent warmth curling through my chest anyway. Ethan was already in the hallway, waiting, and the three of us slipped out of the study together, moving through the quiet mansion like ghosts who had finally found something worth haunting.