Hello dear readers :)
I have created this page hoping to pursue my dream and passion for writing. I have many projects in mind, but my primary focus is on explicit LGBTI stories. Therefore, my content is not suited for people under 18 years old.
Also, this story is fiction, created for entertainment only, and I kindly ask you not to repost this story without my permission.
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- Chapter - Welcome back "home"
For those who care, my name is Rick. I hated that name for most of my life, but as with many things, one deals with it. When I was a kid, I thought it sounded like a name for old men, and when I got to high school, I hated it primarily because my parents named me after my homophobic and despotic grandfather. I never really liked him till the day he died. He was the biggest reason I rebelled, even though I was too afraid to admit in front of him that I was gay, and I hated him for the way he talked about them.
I suppose every family has its own, and in the `90s, it was not as easy to get accepted as it is today. Hell, I was worried most of my teenage years that if I told my parents, they'd tell him, and he would make them send me to one of those camps where they brainwash you or beat you into being straight. You know those good, nice Christians who love all Gods' creations... Nothing against Christians in general, just those who think their Bible interpretations are more important than their children.
So, when he died, I was nearly 21, and on the day of my birthday, I gave my family the last chance to decide for themselves and told them I was gay. I will not go into detail about the worst day of my life, but as you can figure out, I moved out that day.
On those rare occasions, I had the chance to speak with my sister, she informed me that no one was allowed to step into my room, that father acts as though his son was dead, and that mom sometimes cries and hopes her straight son will come home... My sister, in general, hated me for "ruining my family." She said she didn't care who I fucked, but she found the image repulsing. I replied that I found the idea of anyone sleeping with her repulsive and those were probably the last words spoken between us until our parents' funeral.
They died in a car accident about a decade later. They never wrote a will, so the lawyer informed me that I was entitled to the same part of the inheritance as my sister. She, of course, tried her best to cut me out, but after all the dirt she pulled, I decided not to leave her anything of mine. So, we sold the car, but she was adamant about keeping the house. She was living there and was planning to stay there after her wedding, which I, of course, wasn't invited to. But, I allowed it, knowing she was too cheap to pay me for half of the market value and she would rather wait till I died. Still, I made it very clear that half of the house was mine, and I would one day come for it.
Honestly, I was pissed, but in the end, I really couldn't be bothered enough to spend my life energy on ruining hers... So, for 4 years, we lived in the same city without any contact, and I was okay with renting until I found someone worth having a mortgage with.
My landlord once called to ask if he could stop by for a chat. When I invited him in, we spent a couple of minutes with some small talk, he told me then that his daughter had had a few issues, and that he would be needing my house for her. And so, in a few days, I received an email that my lease would not be prolonged as usual, and that I must find a new place within 2 weeks. But then Covid struck...
I was looking, but I had a tough time finding anything suitable in the area. I didn't feel like bothering my friends for who knows how long. Paying for a hotel also seemed a bit much. So, I decided to call the one person I hoped I would never have to talk to again. I suppose she picked up only because she hadn't saved my number.
I informed her about the situation and told her I would be coming to live in my room within 10 days. And if she decided to make it troublesome for me, I didn't mind calling some of my friends in the local police department, and we could make a spectacle for our curious neighborhood.
As promised, that Friday morning, I parked in front of our house and, for a long while, just sat there looking at it questioning my life choices. After a long time, I took a deep breath and went to the door. My key didn't fit as expected, and no one answered when I knocked. When I tried to call Ashley on her phone, she wouldn't pick up. So, I wrote her a message.
- Hi Ash. I am pretty sure you know I am here. My key is not working. Are you going to open the door, or should I call Carl and Steve? They know about our situation and are waiting to see if I will be needing them
Carl was a good friend of mine who worked on the police force, and Steve was my first boyfriend when it all had to be hush-hush. Now he was married to a fantastic man and owned a business as a Locksmith, which was highly convenient right now. So even though it was a bit weird calling him after all this time for such a favor, he was more than willing to help because he knew our family history.
When she didn't reply, I sent the following:
-If you don't come out in 10 min, I am calling them. I am sure both will be glad to see you after all these years.
After 10 min, I came to the door again and dialed the number.
"Hi Steve... So yeah, I need a new lock."
"Hi Rix, yeah, I had a bet with Mark, and suppose he owes me dinner." I could hear the smile on his voice
"I don't remember the last time someone called me Rix," I laughed
"Well, when John called you Rick back in high school, you nearly punched him."
"John was an asshole; that doesn't count." This short flashback to my teenage years made my day after this drama with opening the door. I would rather spend time chatting with him, reminiscing about the old days, but everything I owned was in my car, and I didn't feel like driving it to a hotel.
"When could you be here?"
At that moment, Ashley opened the door.
"Well, hello, dear sister!"
"Shut up and come in." If looks could kill, I would have been obliterated on the spot. She wouldn't even have had to bury the body.
I filled Steve in and said my goodbyes as I walked into the house. I'd rather save both our time and mental energy trying to recreate our heart-breaking and excruciating conversation.
In short, she hated me for ruining her life this time as she and her husband were trying to have a baby, and she needed that room for her future offspring. She, of course, hates me and wants me out but refused to pay me half the housing market price, and yeah, I nearly forgot, she disn't want her (now still non-existent) children to be influenced by something as fucked up as a gay man.
Anyway, she proceeded to be so gracious that she allowed me to live in my old room, and she would let me have the bathroom that was connected to our rooms, as she would be using the one downstairs, but I am to somehow have my kitchen in that room and was not to step into any other part of the whole house.
I was so dumbfounded as I listened to her lengthy rant that I couldn't even react.
Let me give you a small tour of our house. Downstairs is a small hall, spacious living room, kitchen, and room which used to be our parents' bedroom with a big, beautiful bathroom with a corner bathtub, but from what I could see, Ashley had changed this bedroom into an office. Upstairs is a wide corridor leading to two big bedrooms, which were ours growing up, and in between is a long bathroom with a toilet, two sinks, a small bathtub, and a corner shower. To this bathroom are two entrances, one from each of our rooms.
From what I gathered, they probably had a "master bedroom" in her old room.
So, as you can imagine, the house should be big enough for three people for a couple of weeks or, hopefully not, months.
I shook my head and asked for the keys. She refused to give them to me until I agreed to this ridiculous idea. I took a deep breath and constantly reminded myself that she was not worth spending time in prison. As calmly, as I could muster, I reminded her that this was also my house, and she could decide if I would have a short, pleasant stay while looking for an apartment or a very extended unpleasant stay. And that I would do everything legal to make her days here with me a living hell until she up and left. She knew me well enough to just scoff and left to her office without looking at me.
I wasn't planning on staying long anyway, but there was no chance in the world I would be confined to a room, especially when there was talk about a lockdown.
I found her keys, tried them, and went straight to Steve's to make copies. We had a friendly short chat, then I hurried home before "husband" came home from work as I'd never met the guy, and I wasn't taking any chances. With my luck these weeks, I would have been glad if Ash's hubby wasn't some big bully who would have made it even more difficult for me to take my things to my room.
I parked and started carrying bags into the house. Ash didn't even open her office door, so I left her keys and had my first trip into my room here in peace. My room was probably used as a gym and playroom based on the furniture, so I just threw my bags on my old bed, which was now serving as an oversized couch, and went for the rest. When I came back to the car next to my trunk stood a cute-faced, tall man in a suit with the most magnificent green eyes I've seen, not those brown-green, just pure light green, and I hoped it was the neighbor and not the man who thought that my sister was worth to marrying...
I am 6 foot 2, so I am used to looking slightly down on men when talking, and it's not often I talk to someone my height. I also love working out, I train a little every day, and it keeps me excellent shape, so I can be a bit intimidating when one doesn't know me, especially if I have a day like this one. Therefore, I don't blame the guy because his first reaction when he realized I was next to him was to take a quick step back.
"Can I help you?"
"I was just going to ask you the same thing." Said hopefully, not my brother-in-law, in a deep hot voice as you could expect from a 6 foot 2 and about 200lbs of nicely defined man.
I raised my eyebrow and just waited for more information.
"May I ask who you are? What are these things" he pointed to the bags in my open trunk
Now frustrated, I rolled my eyes, took the last two gym bags, and closed the trunk. That bitch. She didn't even care to tell her husband I would be coming.
"Ash didn't tell you I was coming over?"
"Obviously not if I'm asking."
"Amazing! Absolutely amazing!" I just started walking to the house with him following
"Look, man, I am tired, pissed, and want to lay these in my room and hit something so I don't punch someone living. Could you ask your wife? She knew I would be coming since the previous Tuesday."
I was at the stairs by this time, and he stood at the front door with an open mouth. He looked really hot - confused like that. So I swallowed a couple of flirtatious remarks and just said plainly:
"I'd shake your hand, but mine are full. I am Rick, Ashley's brother, and I will be living here hopefully for as short a time as possible. I'd say nice to meet you, but you choosing my sister as a wife, I will reserve this judgment for now."
With that, I just went up. I know I was acting like an asshole, but I just couldn't be bothered at the moment.
Upstairs I just looked around for familiar things. They kept my bed which now had oversized pillows and looked like a couch. Also, my old desk with bookshelves was here, but there was no sign of anything else I had left there, and I didn't care. Honestly, it looked like that guy had his stuff here. There was a TV, controllers, an Xbox, some lightweight workout equipment, a couple of books I honestly agreed with, a few titles I had read and liked a lot, and there were even a few I had on my wish list, so those piqued my interest. I was a little less mad for some reason. Other than that, it was empty and simple here. I liked that. Still, I didn't want to mess with things that weren't mine.
I went down and heard loud arguments from her office. Hubby was not excited about not being included in the newsletter. I didn't blame him.
I heard yelling from my sister and then a loud noise as he stormed out of there and slammed the door. He probably wasn't looking where he was going because when I turned toward the sound, he body-checked me so hard that we both stumbled and held each other, trying to regain our balance.
"You ok, man?"
He angrily looked at me and let go of my torso. "How long do you plan on staying?"
"As I told you, the shorter, the better."
"We should talk." He said taking charge, and storming up the stairs.
I liked the view, but then and there, I knew this stay would be troubling for more reasons than just my sister.
When we came into my room (or ours, as it were), he looked at my things and sat on the bed/couch. Then, he started telling me that he didn't even know Ashley had a brother because "father" said I was dead, and neither Ashley nor her mom said anything about it.
So, I understood why he was pretty freaked out, and I didn't have the mental strength at this point to even be surprised. It just made me sad. They've been dating for 4 years and have been married for 3. We didn't speak at the funeral as I was way in the back and didn't even bother attending the reception. I was just surprised Ash hadn't mentioned me, at least in regards to court. I mentioned this, and he told me she only said that some distant family was giving her trouble, but it had been taken care of. He didn't question her, and she didn't want to admit that she'd been lying for 7 years about her having a dead brother.
I sat next to him speechless and just listened. So, they had had a big fight now and would probably need to come back to that when Ash finished work, but in the meantime, he would take his stuff out of the room. I supposed partly because he didn't trust strangers, but officially, so I could have some space.
So, we took his equipment out in the hallway, and he let me have the TV as they had one twice the size in the living room where he took the Xbox. Then, he found a box and put the rest of his things here and there in the room.
He was visibly upset and, most of the time was utterly silent. I stopped him when he was leaving with the box in his hands.
"What is your name, by the way?"
"Nate." He said and left
I was exhausted. I spent the rest of the day unpacking and listening to music and honestly asking myself how I could come up with such an idiotic idea. But I was already here and was too tired now to think about another option.
So, let's hope this supposed pandemic blows over fast, and I find a place even quicker.