My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 34: Nothing More Than A Fuck Buddy

•⋅⊰∙∘☽✼☾∘∙⊱⋅•

𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯’𝔰 𝔯𝔞𝔪𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: this is after the Ghosts Of Him Chapter, hopefully novelkiss stops messing up my Chapter schedule.

Third Person’s POV

The warmth of her body and the mix of sweat and desire surrounded him. He lingered for a moment, letting the aftershocks fade and the anger seep away, replaced by a deep weariness. As the thrill wore off, thoughts of Noah and Ethan slowly crept back in, like shadows stretching out as the sun dipped below the horizon.

"Wow," Vanessa’s soft, breathy voice broke the stillness. She lifted her head from the pillow, looking back at him with a twinkle in her eye and a small smile. "That was... incredible."

He let out a grunt, a vague acknowledgment. As he shifted his weight, he pulled away from her, the sound marking the end of their encounter. Rolling onto his side, he nestled onto the mattress beside her. The cool air against his damp skin sent a shiver down his spine.

Vanessa turned to face the ceiling, stretching luxuriously, her body still humming with pleasure. She reached out, her fingers lightly brushing his jaw, possessive yet gentle. "You were really... intense tonight."

A soft chuckle escaped her lips, full of contentment. "I love it when you’re like that."

He averted his gaze, staring up at the ceiling, focusing on a faint water stain on the plaster. "Yeah," he replied, his tone flat. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

She propped herself up on one elbow, her bare skin brushing against his arm. "Come here," she whispered invitingly. "Let’s cuddle for a bit. We could watch that new horror movie you wanted to see."

Leaning in, she placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder, lingering just a second.

A familiar knot twisted in his chest, a sense of obligation he didn’t want to carry. Cuddling and movie-watching, that soft intimacy that followed their physical connection—wasn’t what their arrangement was about. He was here to let off steam, to forget, to deal with his own issues...not to pretend they were more than what they were.

Pushing himself up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Nah," he said, reaching for his boxers on the floor. "I gotta go."

Her hand slipped from his shoulder, a look of disappointment crossing her face.

"Go? Already?" Her voice trembled slightly. "But... it’s still early. We just... you know." She waved her hand between them, her eyes wide.

He pulled on his boxers, the fabric rough yet comforting. "Yeah, I know. But I’ve got things to take care of." No need to go into detail—he never did.

"What things?" she pressed, a hint of frustration creeping into her tone. "Adrien, seriously? Can’t you stay just a little longer? We just had amazing sex. Don’t you want to... relax?"

Standing up, he grabbed his jeans from the floor, avoiding her eyes as he zipped up. "Look, Vanessa, you know how this goes."

"No, I fucking don’t," she snapped back, frustration evident in her voice. "Not when you act like this. One minute you’re all in, and the next, you’re out the door like I’m going to bite you."

She sat up, pulling the sheet over her chest, hurt and anger flashing in her eyes. "What’s the rush? Did I do something wrong?"

He sighed, a long, weary sound. "No, you didn’t do anything wrong." Pulling on his t-shirt, the fabric clinging to his damp skin, he added, "I just can’t stick around."

"But why?" Her voice wavered, the vulnerability breaking through. "Adrien, I enjoy spending time with you. I like... this." Her eyes searched his for some sign of warmth.

Finally meeting her gaze, he held his expression firm. "Vanessa, we’ve talked about this. We’re not dating. We’re not a couple. We just hook up."

The words felt harsh, but they needed to be said. He couldn’t let her misunderstand. Not now, not ever.

Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red. "Hook up? That’s all this means to you?" Her voice dropped to a whisper, disbelief coloring her tone.

"That’s always been the case," he confirmed, keeping his voice steady, shutting down any room for debate. Picking up his phone and wallet from the nightstand, he added, "And you knew that."

"I thought... maybe things were changing," she murmured, tears pooling in her eyes. "I thought we were getting closer. Especially after tonight. You were so... passionate."

"Passionate about the sex, sure," he corrected, devoid of warmth. "That’s it. We have sex. Good sex. But nothing more. No attachments, no cuddles, no goddamn movies and no pretending."

Moving toward the door, he rested his hand on the knob. "You need to stop trying to make this into something else."

Her breath hitched, a small, pained sound escaping her. "You’re a real jerk, you know that?" Her voice dripped with venom, a stark contrast to earlier. Her fury was palpable, daring him with her gaze.

He shrugged. "Maybe. But at least I’m honest with myself." He opened the door.

"Next time," she called after him, her voice sharp, "we could do this at your place. It’s always here, always in my house. How about yours?"

He paused, hand still on the knob, his back to her. The thought of bringing her to his house, where Vanessa might see Noah and the lines between his worlds could blur...that idea sent a chill down his spine.

"No," he said flatly, his tone final. "There won’t be a next time at my place. And honestly, maybe there shouldn’t be a next time at all if you can’t get what this is."

Without waiting for her response, he stepped out and closed the door softly behind him, leaving her in the dim, fragrant room.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Vanessa’s composure cracked. A choked sob tore from her throat, raw and pained. Her hands clenched into fists, shaking with an anger that quickly overshadowed her hurt.

"Asshole!" she screamed, her voice hoarse, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes darted around the room, landing on a small decorative vase on her nightstand, a gift from her grandmother. With a roar of rage, she grabbed it and hurled it across the room.

The vase shattered against the wall with a deafening CRASH, shards scattering across the carpet like fallen stars. Her chest heaved as she gasped for air.

The anger surged through her, hot and visceral, leaving behind a bitter taste. He thought he could just walk away, leaving her to pick up the pieces of her shattered dreams. He thought he could use her, discard her, and expect her to be okay. But she wouldn’t be okay. Not like this.

Now, Vanessa never thought of herself as a genius by any means...but she knew that that boy...Noah, had something to do with this.