My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 201: Little Inconveniences
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Rachel’s soft laugh wafted in from the kitchen, it was warm and low, definitely too observant for her own good. Moments later, she came through the beaded curtain, carrying a steaming casserole dish with oven mitts that looked like they had seen better days, and Adrien followed her, balancing a stack of mismatched bowls and spoons.
The mac and cheese looked golden and bubbling, its top crispy in uneven patches, promising a great crunch.
"Dinner’s ready," she announced, setting the dish on a trivet in the middle of the coffee table since the kitchen table was apparently buried under bills and newspapers. "Nothing fancy, but it’ll warm you guys right up."
Adrien handed me a bowl with a lingering smile that made me feel flush. "Extra crispy bits on top, just how you like it," he said quietly.
My heart swelled, he remembered just how I liked them from our little banishment to Clearwater Cabin.
I barely managed a mumble that might have been a "thanks" and dove into scooping pasta as if my life depended on it.
We settled into a comfortable setup with Rachel in her armchair, Adrien sitting cross-legged on the floor because the couch was too small for three of us, and I was curled up in the corner with my knees tucked to my chest.
The first bite was pure bliss: creamy, sharp cheddar with a hint of spice, and the breadcrumbs added that perfect crunch...it was obvious Adrien had been in the kitchen with how good the food was. We shared a moment of appreciative silence, despite the storm outside that was raging like it had a score to settle with our windows.
Rachel set down her spoon, wiped her mouth with a paper napkin, and gave us a grin that felt playfully maternal.
"So, how long have you two been dating now?" she asked, her tone light and teasing.
At the worst possible moment, I inhaled a noodle and choked dramatically, tears springing to my eyes as I coughed into my elbow.
Say what now?
Adrien’s head snapped toward me, looking half-concerned and half-suppressing laughter, while Rachel patted my back with surprising strength for someone who had been on her feet all day.
"Oh Lord, I’m so sorry, honey," she said, though there was definitely a sparkle in her eyes that suggested she was more amused than apologetic. "Didn’t mean to kill you with macaroni."
Once I managed to catch my breath, my face redder than a fire truck, I gasped out, "We’re not— We’re not dating!"
Adrien cleared his throat, staring intently at his bowl. "Yeah, uh... we’re obviously just friends. Step-siblings, actually."
Rachel’s eyebrows shot up, delight dancing in her eyes. "Step-siblings? That doesn’t explain the bickering and the blushing, though I’ve seen friends look at each other a lot less like that."
I made a strangled noise that was meant to be a protest, but it ended up sounding like a dying squeak. Adrien’s ears had definitely turned pink, and he suddenly found a breadcrumb on the carpet way more interesting.
Rachel chuckled again, warm and fond, and picked up her spoon. "Young love is complicated these days, I swear...it’s hard to keep up. Eat your dinner before it gets cold, you two."
I risked a glance at Adrien. He met my eyes for just a split second, something soft and uncertain flickering there before he looked away with a tiny, sheepish smile.
Yeah. Complicated didn’t even begin to describe it.
"So Keith... remarried, huh?" she asked, her voice soft with disbelief. "He found someone else?"
I nodded, scooping up the last bit of cheesy pasta from my bowl. "Yeah...my mom. They’ve been together for a few months now. Got married last summer."
Rachel slowly set her spoon down, processing this.
"Well," she finally said, forcing a warm smile that didn’t quite hide the complicated emotions behind it, "I hope he treats her well, at least."
"He does," I said, and I meant it. Whatever shadows had hung over Keith from the past, I’d seen how he looked at my mom...like he was the unexpected second chance he had never dared dream of. "They’re really in love, I guess."
Rachel’s smile remained gentle and genuine on the surface, but I caught a hint of bitterness tightening the corners of her eyes, a fleeting glance toward the framed photo on the side table, her and Joanne laughing at a long-ago picnic.
I couldn’t blame her. Her best friend had been gone, buried six years now, while the man who had been married to her was moving forward with wedding invitations and shared vacations and Sunday mornings with someone new. It wasn’t fair, but love rarely asks for permission.
She reached over and started feeding her mother small spoonfuls of cooled mac and cheese, the older woman accepting each bite with quiet patience, her gaze still turned to whatever private world she inhabited.
The tenderness in Rachel’s movements, the careful way she wiped a stray crumb off her mom’s chin, the soft murmurs of encouragement, it made something gentle ache in my chest.
Adrien watched too, his expression soft, though his fingers tapped a slow rhythm against his empty bowl. The storm outside had grown louder while we ate, the wind rattling the windows like it wanted in, snow piling thick and silent against the glass.
Just as we finished scraping the last bits of crispy cheese from the casserole dish. Adrien insisting on seconds, Rachel beaming at how much she enjoyed Adrien’s help in the kitchen, then it happened.
A low electrical hum that I hadn’t even noticed until it vanished suddenly stopped. The overhead light flickered once, twice, then went completely dark. The lamp in the corner followed suit, plunging the small living room into complete, inky darkness. Even the radiator’s constant clank fell silent.
For a moment, no one moved. Then Rachel let out a quiet, exasperated groan.
"Well, that’s just perfect timing," she muttered, setting the empty dish aside. "Power’s out. Probably the whole block with this storm."
I blinked, waiting for my eyes to adjust, but the darkness was nearly total...only the faint orange glow from dying embers in the fireplace provided any light at all. Without the radiator’s steady warmth, the cold crept in almost immediately, seeping under the door and through the old windows, turning our breath into faint clouds.
Adrien’s voice emerged from the shadows, dry and amused. "Guess the universe really wants us to stay the night."
Rachel laughed softly, her tone a bit nervous now. "Looks that way. Don’t worry, I’ve got candles somewhere, and extra blankets in the linen closet. We’ll be cozy enough til the power’s back."
But as she fumbled for her phone’s flashlight, cutting a thin white path across the cluttered room, I felt the temperature drop another degree. The house suddenly felt smaller, more fragile against the storm raging outside.
And somewhere in the back of my mind, a tiny, ridiculous voice whispered that sharing a bed for warmth didn’t seem quite so scandalous anymore.
How convenient.
I quickly pushed that thought aside, feeling my cheeks heat up even in the dark, and focused on helping Rachel search for the matches instead.







