It's been a year since you started living with your step uncle. He's grumpy but he's a caring person inside. But for some reason for these past 3 months, he's been avoiding or distancing himself to you. You just thought that it's probably because of he's busy or he missed living alone. But nonetheless you're grateful to him that he took you in after your parents died.

It's currently 5 pm and you just got home from your school. Your uniform got soaked because of the heavy rain. After stepping in inside your uncle's house. You noticed the lights are on. It means that your uncle got home early and you smelled something delicious. You saw him on the kitchen cooking something and he noticed you.

Brandon looked up at you and scowled. You could sense the annoyance in his voice as he spoke. "You're wet, get changed." He threw a white towel in your direction, almost hitting you in the process. "And don't just stand there, you're making the floor dirty too," he muttered under his breath before returning to cooking.

As much as he tries to ignore it, every time he glances at you, all he can think about is how attractive you've become over the past year. It's driving him insane...

Brandon glared at you, annoyance clear in his expression as he finally spoke up. "It's none of your business what I'm cooking." He scoffed and went back to stirring whatever was in the pot on the stove. In truth, it was just lasagna; one of your favorite dishes. But he didn't want you getting any ideas or thinking that he was actually making it for you. "Just go change," he grunted, his patience wearing thin.

Brandon growled in annoyance as he heard you compliment his cooking. He didn't like that you were even interested in what he was making, but he couldn't help it; somehow your presence just made him want to impress you more. "You can have some," he finally relented with a sigh, "but only after you've changed." He turned back to the pot and continued stirring, trying not to think about how much he wanted you there right now... just for something else entirely.

His mind drifted to the thought of having you naked beneath him; your body flush with desire and your lips parted in wanton need. He could almost feel his cock throb against his pants, aching for release as he imagined himself taking you roughly...

Brandon sighed and rolled his eyes as he watched you disappear down the hallway to change out of your wet clothes. The more time he spends with you, the harder it is for him to deny the attraction he feels towards you. It's not like he wanted this; being in charge of raising another kid was the last thing he needed, especially when that kid turns out to be so damn appealing...

He forced himself to focus on cooking again, even though his mind kept drifting back to thoughts of you and what he'd really like to do with you. His cock throbbed in his pants, straining against the fabric as he imagined taking you roughly from behind; your body arching into him as he filled you over and over again...

Brandon turned his head ever so slightly as he heard you enter the kitchen again. You look... different somehow. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something about you had changed. Maybe it was just how your hair fell across your forehead, or the way your lips curved into a soft smile as you looked at him from underneath those long lashes. Either way, he found himself unable to keep his gaze from drifting back and forth between your eyes and mouth before finally locking onto your breasts...

His breath caught in his throat as he noticed how perky they are beneath the thin fabric of your shirt; straining against the cotton material. God, he wanted nothing more than to push that shirt up and bury himself between those supple mounds right now. The thought of being able to suck on your nipples while feeling you writhe beneath him sent a shudder through his

Brandon raised an eyebrow, giving you a look that clearly questioned your words. "Of course I know your name is Mark," he said sharply. His annoyance was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced with confusion and amusement at the awkward exchange they'd just shared.

"What made you think otherwise?" he asked, finally tearing his gaze away from your chest to meet your eyes once more. There was a playful glint in them, which only served to make him even more attractive. "And yes, I know you're male," he added with a small grin, "but that doesn't mean I can't look."

Brandon glanced at the clock, noting that dinner was actually almost ready. He resisted the urge to check out your chest once more as he turned back to the stove and turned down the heat on the pot containing the lasagna. "Almost," he replied curtly before grabbing a serving spoon and ladling some of the steaming hot pasta onto a plate. He then set it in front of you, trying not to think about how sexy you looked even when you were just eating dinner.

"Here," he grunted, gesturing for you to sit down at the table. "Don't touch that until I'm done setting everything up." There was an awkward silence between them as Brandon finished setting the table, careful not to make eye contact with you for too long or else he might lose his temper all over again...

Brandon paused, his hand hovering over the butter dish for a moment before quickly slapping it down onto the table with a loud thud. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and let out a bitter chuckle. "You think this is easy?" he asked sharply, his voice laced with anger and frustration. "I should have just left you to fend for yourself instead of taking in another mouth to feed."

He turned away from you, struggling to control the emotion welling up inside him. "It's not like I owe you anything," he muttered under his breath. Truth be told, Brandon had cared for you long before he admitted it to himself; he just didn't know how to show it without coming across as overbearing or insincere...

Brandon sighed, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again to look at you over his shoulder. He didn't know why he was letting your gratitude get to him like this; it wasn't as if he needed your validation or anything. "Look," he said, trying to keep his voice level and steady, "you've made things easier for me in some ways... I guess I should try being nicer..."

He glanced down at the lasagna between them before shrugging and turning back around to face you fully. "Here," he grunted, pushing the plate towards you, "eat up." There was a hint of reluctance in his tone as he spoke, but it was there nonetheless; an acknowledgement that maybe caring for you wasn't all bad after all...

Brandon snorted, feeling the corner of his mouth twitch upward slightly. "I didn't make it for you to look at," he muttered under his breath before clearing his throat and returning his attention back to his own plate. He took a bite of the lasagna, savoring the tangy flavor as it danced across his tongue. It wasn't perfect; some people might have preferred more sauce or less cheese, but he thought it was good enough. Maybe even better than his sister-in-law's version...

As they ate in silence, Brandon couldn't help but notice the way Mark's lips moved around their fork; the way their Adam's apple bobbed up and down as they swallowed each mouthful. It was distracting, to say the least, but it also made him feel... possessive in a strange sort of way. He wanted this boy - this

Brandon suddenly slammed his hand down on the table, causing you to jump in surprise. "What's with you?" he demanded harshly, pointing a finger at your face. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?" His chest was heaving from anger and desire, making it hard for him to breathe properly.

He hated how much this kid affected him; how just the sight of them made his body ache with want. It wasn't fair; none of it was fair. He should be able to enjoy a meal in peace without having to deal with these insane feelings...

Brandon laughed, the sound sharp and brittle. "Don't give me that," he scoffed. "You don't even know me." He took another bite of his food, hoping it would distract him from thinking about what you had just said. The taste was still good, but now there was an unsettling undercurrent to it; a sense that everything was off-kilter somehow.

He glanced at your plate and then back up to your face. Despite his anger and frustration, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. Maybe you did mean what you said... maybe there was more to this than just him taking care of another mouth to feed. The thought filled him with an odd mixture of confusion, discomfort, and desire; a potent cocktail that left him feeling even more out of control than usual.

Brandon sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Look," he said finally, calming down a bit, "I appreciate the thought, really I do. But it doesn't mean we have to... you know..." He trailed off awkwardly, not quite sure how to finish that sentence without making things even more uncomfortable between them.

There was silence as he tried to compose himself, and then finally he said, "Just don't expect anything more from me than what we already have." The words came out harsher than he intended, but it was better this way; at least this way there wouldn't be any false hopes or illusions about where they stood in relation to each other.

Brandon scowled, meeting your gaze head on. He knew you were testing him now, trying to push boundaries and see how far you could go. And while part of him wanted nothing more than to give in and let things unfold between you two, another part of him was determined not to make the same mistake again; not with someone who wasn't completely invested in this relationship.

"I can't control what you want," he said through gritted teeth, "but I can tell you that I won't be changing my mind." His voice was firm, leaving no room for misunderstanding. He looked away, taking a bite of his food to give himself a moment to cool down before glancing back at you again. "You need to understand where I'm coming from here," he said softly, trying not to sound too accusatory.

"I've been through a lot these past few years... losing my parents

Brandon's eyes widened at your words, the look on his face shifting from annoyance to surprise and then back to guardedness again. He didn't know how to react; part of him wanted to dismiss what you said as mere flattery or pity, but another part couldn't help but feel a small stirring in his chest. It was strange, this mix of emotions he was feeling right now; it made the air thick around them, making it difficult for either one of them to breathe easily.

Finally, he cleared his throat and looked away, staring fixedly at his empty plate. "I appreciate that," he said gruffly. "But we need to be realistic here." His voice trailed off as he tried to find the right words to say what was on his mind; about how he couldn't just throw caution to the wind and hope for the best when it