His little stepbrother ddlb 18+

From the moment I woke up, I knew that today was gonna be the worst day ever. I didn’t even have time to brush my teeth. As soon as I got up from bed, I turned on my laptop and started working. I had to finish a project by this afternoon, a project that had a deadline two weeks ago. My boss gave me one last chance: submit it today or start looking for a new job. And as if that wasn’t stressful enough, today was also the day when my damn stepbrother - a person I haven’t even met - was scheduled to arrive at my place. I was to share my small, studio-type apartment with him for the next four months. I never liked that idea. I was never comfortable sharing anything with anyone, especially my private space. But what could I do? It was a request from my mother, and she never took no for an answer. At around eleven in the morning and just when I found the right groove to finish up my work, my phone beeped. It was a message from my mom telling me that my stepbrother was already in the city, seven hours earlier than expected. Together with the text message was his phone number and an instruction from my mother to call him immediately. I shook my head in dismay as I dialled my stepbrother’s digits. Before it could ring, though, I tried to remember the details that my mom shared about him: he just turned eighteen, he’s shy, he’s soft-spoken, his dad’s a widower, his dad married my mom last year when I already relocated here at the Bay City, and he’s allergic to shellfish (my mother told me that if I had to remember one thing about this dude, it’s this). Pretty basic stuff. I didn’t really ask a lot of questions about him. Suddenly, some weird music blared at the hallway outside my apartment. Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy But here’s my number, so call me maybe? Holy shitty s**t of shits! Seriously? In 2020? Still holding my phone over my ear, I got up to rush towards the peephole. I just had to see who among my neighbors was insane enough to have that ringtone. But before I could reach the door, my stepbrother picked up my call. “H-Hello?” he nervously greeted. “Hey, yo,” I greeted him back. “This is Chad. I’m supposed to be your stepbrother.” Yeah, supposed to be. That sounded awkward. It was intentional, though. I wanted him to know that I didn’t like the setup I was forced to agree to. Maybe that would force him to find a place of his own sooner rather than later. “Oh, hi Chad,” he replied. His voice was jittery. The dude sounded like he was scared. My mother must’ve warned him about how prickly I could be. That thought made me chuckle. “I... uhm... I was told to stay with you for the next four months...” Yeah, yeah, so I’ve been told a million times before. Whatever. “Yes, of course,” I tried to sound as welcoming as possible. “My mom just called and she said that you’re already here in the city, earlier than scheduled. Where are you, man? Are you lost?” “I was,” he said. “I’m sorry. Was? ” “Yeah. I’m here now.” “Here? As in here here? Here at my apartment?” “Yeah, right outside your door.” Jesus Christ! That lame assed ringtone was his?! Somehow, though, that didn’t surprise me. I went to the door and opened it. There he was, looking exactly like how my mother described him. Bespectacled, lean but thin, dark haired with lengthy bangs that partly covered his glasses, a shy demeanor, and a terrible lack of fashion sense. The guy was wearing a short-sleeved white polo shirt tucked in a pair of golden brown corduroy pants, for crying out loud! And with red, high cut Chuck Taylors! Red! High cut! What the f*****g f**k was that?! And he was a bit handsome too, I must admit. Despite his terrible lack of confidence, he still possessed that certain kind of aura... an unrefined type of attractiveness... Still... his sense of style was absolutely appalling. I doubt if that was even salvageable. “Carly Rae, eh? That was you?” I asked with feigned amusement even though the answer was obvious. Small talk s**t, that kind of stuff. “Nice. You a fan?” “Carly Rae?” he repeated, perplexed. “Oh. The ring tone? No, not really. It’s just... well... it was free on iTunes.” Hmmmm. It wasn’t a conscious choice then. At least that’s one item off his list of atrocities. Maybe there’s hope for this guy after all. “Well, come on in, bro,” I invited him. “Let’s get you settled.” “T-Thank you,” he stuttered with his response as he slightly bowed his head. “Thank you very much.” He stepped inside my place, tugging an old, decrepit suitcase behind him. It looked like a hand-me-down from his great, great, great grandfather. Maybe it was their family heirloom. “See that bed near the window?” I pointed towards the farthest end of the room. “That’s your spot. The table beside it? That’s yours. The cabinet? Yours too. The window, though, that’s communal property. I’ll be using it from time to time for some puffs. You smoke?” He shook his head. “Well, I do,” I informed him. “I hope you won’t rat me out to the landlord. This is a no smoking building, y’see.” I laughed. It was a clear joke. He distraughtly waved his hands. “Oh no... most definitely not. I... I’m not like that. I won’t be causing you any troubles, Sir.” Sir? He called me... Sir? What’s up with this boy? “Please,” I pleaded with a little bit of annoyance seeping from my voice. “Call me Chad. Just Chad. That’ll be okay. Don’t call me Sir, for f**k’s sake! You make me feel old. I’m not old. Older than you maybe, but still, I’m not old, okay? You’re eighteen, correct?” He nodded. “See? I’m just seven years older than you,” I told him. “So, don’t call me Sir.” “Okay. I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Anyway, how do you find San Fran so far?” I asked him. “It’s... different from Greenville...” “I bet it is. Where will you be studying again?” I queried. I think my mom said something about it before, but I wasn’t paying attention. “San Francisco State University,” he replied. “Course?” “Agricultural Science.” That solicited a chortle from me, one which I belatedly realized was rather impolite. “You wanna be a farmer someday?” “Rural land appraiser, actually,” he clarified. “Hmmm. Sounds technical. Does it pay well?” “Nationwide average of one hundred forty thousand dollars per year.” Holy f*****g dog in a unicycle! This dude’s poised to earn three times than what I get from my job?! He just made me want to burn my Computer Science diploma and start all over again. “Not bad,” I mumbled in response. “Not bad at all. So, uhm, lemme tell you about the rules in my joint,” I started to change the subject. “They’re simple, really. No girls, don’t talk to me when you see me working, no loud music when you see me working, no loud video game sounds when you see me working, no loud anything when you see me working... got ‘em?” “Yes,” he confirmed as he nodded. “Okay then. Let’s proceed. That side of the flat is yours,” I pointed at the area beyond an imaginary line around a foot away from his bed. “The other side’s mine. So, yeah. My side’s a little bigger,” I stated, which was an understatement as my spot took up three-quarters of the room and included the sofa, the fridge and the kitchen, “but that’s because I’m the listed tenant of this place. Any complaints?” He shook his head. “Good,” I continued. “Don’t put anything inside the fridge without my permission. Don’t get anything from the fridge without my permission-” “Even if they’re my stuff?” he interrupted me. “Shhhh,” I hushed him up, annoyed. “Let me finish, okay?” “S-Sorry.” “As I was saying, don’t get anything from the fridge without my permission, and yes, even if you’re gonna get the stuff that you placed there. Besides, you’re not supposed to put food there without informing me in the first place. That’s how it’ll be, I’m sorry. Anyway, the kitchen... same thing. Don’t use the kitchen without my permission. And the sofa? You’re not allowed to use it, ever. You’ve got your own bed. That should be enough for you. Questions?” “Uhm... how about the bathroom?” he was almost ashamed to ask. “The bathroom? Heh! Of course you can use it! What kind of question is that?” “Do I... errr... need to ask for your permission first?” “Of course not! Jesus Christ! This ain’t an autocracy. If you have to go, you have to go.” “Okay,” he muttered meekly. “Excellent! Now, I’d like to continue this getting-to-know-you chat we’re having, but the thing is, I’ve got some work to finish that’s due in a few hours. So, if you’ll excuse me for a while, I have to get back to my bread- and-butter.” “Oh, sure,” he said quite diffidently. “And... Chad? Thank you so much for having me here.” I took a deep breath as I mustered enough strength to force a smile. “Yeah, no problem,” I lied. I went back to my bed and opened up my laptop once more. It took me a few minutes to get my groove back. Once I was in the zone, however, as I was frantically typing lines of code, one after another. Suddenly, I noticed that Alex was behind me, hovering over my shoulder like a vulture studying a corpse. “Whoa!” I yelled in surprise. “What’re you doing, man? This isn’t your part of the room, remember?” “I’m sorry,” he was quick to ask for forgiveness as he took a few steps backwards. “I’m so sorry. It’s just that... uhm... your laptop... it looks very nice.” “Ain’t nothing nice about this piece of garbage,” I told him, still vexed by his sudden intrusion into my side of the apartment. I flipped the laptop’s lid downwards to show him the brand. “See? ROG Stix. A good gaming laptop but not powerful enough to run Witcher 3 at ultra settings. I’m just using this for programming.” “I see,” he responded sullenly before walking back to his designated bed. He looked quite sad, so much so that I felt a slight pinch on my heart. “I’m sure your setup’s better than this trash,” I mentioned, my way of trying to make him feel a little better. “Oh no, it’s not,” he began to argue. He unzipped his old, dilapidated suitcase and pulled out what seemed like a huge, dusty journal. Only, it wasn’t a journal. It was a laptop. His laptop. I immediately recognized it. I had one before... when I was eight or something. It was a 15 inch Toshiba Satellite, powered by a Pentium 4 processor which, at its time, was already laughably weak. And this guy’s still using one? f**k! That s**t wouldn’t even be able to boot up the latest version of MS Office. “You’re gonna use that for school?!” I asked incredulously. “Isn’t that a bit too... old... for your needs?” “It’s okay. It’s a bit slow but it still gets the job done.” I laughed. “Yeah, like how Wilt Chamberlain can still ball, right?” “I’ll just use it to take notes,” he explained. “I’m not really into games and stuff.” I groaned in frustration. “That ancient processor won’t be able to hold up, even for simple note-taking.” I stood up and pulled out the smallest laptop from one of my shelves which housed more than a dozen of those notebooks I’ve used in the past three years. “Here,” I gave him a heads up before throwing the folded hardware. That caught him by surprise. He almost didn’t catch it. “Use that,” I told him. “It’s the oldest version of the Asus Zenbook. A bit small at 13 inches. It’s less powerful than a smartphone. But it’s way, way, way better than the crappy one you have.” He stared at the laptop with eyes as wide as manholes. He couldn’t believe what he was holding, and he couldn’t believe that I gave it to him. “W-Wow! I... I don’t know what to say. T-Thank you, Chad. Thank you so much. This’ll be a great help. I promise to return it to you once I get a new one.” “Oh, please don’t,” I said as I got back to my bed to start working once again. “That one’s yours. I’ve got lots, I don’t even know how to get rid of ‘em.” “You’ve got lots?” he repeated my words with shock. “Yeah. Now don’t go thinking that I’m rich. I’m not. It’s just one of the perks of my job. The bosses give us new laptops from time to time to help us be more efficient.” “What job do you have?” “Programming. Game development to be more specific.” “Wow!” “Don’t be too impressed, dude. Mine’s just a junior position.” “What games have you made?” “I’m currently working on Planet of Battle Art...” “Wait!” he roared with instant excitement. “Planet of Battle Art? POBA? The MMORPG?” “Ah. Glad you’re familiar with it,” I remarked, unsurprised. Who, in the world, didn’t know about Planet of Battle Art? It was one of the biggest massively multiplayer online role playing game in existence, with close to five million subscribers. “You created that game?” he continued his questioning, still brimming with amazement. “I’d love to say yes, but... uhm... no... I didn’t. I just handle some in-game stuff. I’m a scenario designer.” “Scenario designer?” “Yeah. You know, like when you’re playing that game... you get requests from NPCs, right? And that’ll set you off a story-driven quest line which will reward you with experience points once it’s completed, yeah?” “Yes?” “Well, I design those quests. Uhm... a few of them at least. There are more than two thousand of them in the game.” “Wow! That’s so cool!” Alex gushed. “And that’s what you’re doing right now? A new quest line?” “Basically, yeah. POBA’s gonna release an expansion next month, see? I have to submit this new quest and have it approved so that it would be included in the final code for publication.” “That’s fantastic!” he continued to enthuse with childlike thrill. “Now, let me be, alright?” I reminded him. “Remember the rules? No loud anything when I’m working, yeah? I’ve got to finish this.” “Okay. Sure, Chad,” he replied. “Go take a nap or something,” I suggested. “You had a long, tiring trip from Greenville.” “Yeah, okay. I’ll do that.” And he did. He lied on his bed and fell asleep a few minutes later. I was able to put in some work. The minutes turned into hours and he was still in deep slumber, unmoving, with his back flat on the mattress and his hands resting over his chest. He wasn’t making any noice as he slept. He wasn’t a snorer. That allayed one of my worries. Three hours later and I was still busy with work. I noticed Alex turn to his side. Finally, he moved! I was beginning to think that he might’ve have had a heart attack or something. Eventually, I finished my work thirty minutes earlier than the 4 P.M. deadline. I rested my back on the headboard of my bed and savored what I’ve accomplished today. With a contented smile on my face, I turned to look at Alex. There he was, still sleeping like babe, his body curled like a fetus, dreaming about the wonders of the big city, perfectly comfortable with the diaper he was wearing which was peeking out of the edges of his corduroy pants... Wait… What the f**k?!