My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 21: His Protector

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Ethan wasn’t shouting, but his voice had a bite that silenced the whole group. He strolled over, towel draped over his shoulder, his expression a calm yet firm one. "Didn’t your parents teach you not to pick on others just for kicks?"

Jace chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Hey, come on, man. We were just messing around."

"Yeah?" Ethan replied coolly. "Then go find someone else to mess with."

Just when I thought things were calming down, Liam—one of Adrien’s taller, not-so-bright friends—decided to chime in.

"Aw, look at this," he sneered, stepping closer with that lazy grin of his. "Ethan’s playing hero for his little boyfriend. You that starved for attention that you hang out with a guy just to feel needed?"

Loud, ugly laughter erupted from the group, ringing off the gym walls like nails on a chalkboard.

Before I could think, Ethan’s face twisted into anger. The charm he usually wore vanished in an instant, replaced by unrestrained fury as he pushed Liam hard in the chest. "Say that again," he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Liam staggered back, his grin faltering for just a moment before he scoffed, "Chill out, dude. Can’t you take a joke?"

"Not when it’s at my expense," Ethan shot back.

I stepped in front of him, pressing my hand against his arm. "Ethan, please," I whispered, my voice shaky. "It’s not worth it. Just—let’s go, alright?"

But he stayed put, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on Liam. The tension felt suffocating.

Then, out of nowhere, a new voice cut through the thick air—cool and composed but carrying a sharp edge that made everyone freeze.

"What’s going on here?"

It was Adrien.

He’d just walked out of the locker room, gym bag slung over his shoulder, damp hair falling into his face. The moment he showed up, his friends fell silent, like kids caught red-handed by the teacher.

Liam straightened up immediately. "Hey, man, it’s nothing. Just—"

Adrien’s gaze shifted from Ethan to me, his eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of my hand still gripping Ethan’s arm. "Doesn’t look like nothing," he said, calm but heavy.

Ethan glared back, unwavering. "Maybe you should tell your friends to back off, then."

For a heartbeat, the air crackled with tension—Ethan stands tall, Adrien’s slight smirk casting a shadow over the confrontation.

"And what if I don’t?" Adrien replied, his tone smooth and mocking. "What’s your move, Seymour?"

I felt Ethan tense up, and panic swirled in my chest. "Ethan," I urged quickly, tugging at his sleeve, "Let’s just go. Please."

He hesitated for a moment before finally exhaling through his nose and letting me pull him away.

Behind us, I heard Jace sneer, dripping with arrogance. "Yeah, listen to your boyfriend, dude."

More laughter followed as we walked away, but I didn’t dare look back. My heart was racing, and all I could think was how Adrien hadn’t said a word to stop them—he just observed, that infuriating smirk still on his face like he found it all funny.

I didn’t stop until we were far from the gym—away from the noise, the laughter, and the smell of sweat that clung to the air. I finally loosened my grip on his wrist when we reached one of the side courtyards behind the bleachers, quiet and empty, except for rustling leaves and distant traffic.

I turned to face him, my chest tight, throat burning. The words spilled out before I could hold them back. "I’m sorry."

Ethan blinked, confusion crossing his face. "For what?"

"For all of that," I said, motioning helplessly toward the gym. "For them. For everything they said. They were making fun of you because of me, and I hate that. I shouldn’t have even been there. I just—" My voice cracked, and before I could finish, a tear slipped down my cheek. "I’d understand if you didn’t want to work with me anymore. I wouldn’t blame you if you asked Mrs. Owens for a new partner."

He just stared at me for a moment, and his expression softened as I tried to wipe away the tear, but he caught my hand. "Noah, stop," he said gently.

I froze as he lifted his other hand, his thumb brushing away the tear that had rolled to my chin. His touch was warm, calming—nothing like the chaos I’d just escaped.

"Listen to me," he said quietly. "I don’t care what they said. Or what they think. I’m not helping you out of pity, and I’m definitely not backing down because of a few idiots who don’t know how to keep their mouths shut."

I looked up at him, caught between disbelief and something deeper I couldn’t quite name. His eyes were steady, unwavering.

"I stood up because it was the right thing to do. I can’t stand how they treat you," he continued with more conviction. "And if it happened again? I’d do it without thinking."

For a second, all I could do was stare at him, my heart beating so hard it hurt. Everything else faded away—the voices, the footsteps, the world around us.

"You don’t have to thank me," he added softly. "Just stop apologizing for being here."

That simple, direct line hit me like a quiet punch to the gut. No one had ever said anything like that to me before.

I swallowed hard, nodding slowly, my voice barely a whisper. "Okay."

He smiled then, his warm, easy smile that made me feel safe for a moment. "Good," he said. "Now let’s get back to our tragic love story, remember?"

I let out a weak laugh, still blinking back the last of my tears, and for the first time in what felt like ages, it didn’t seem like the whole world was against me.

Ethan’s smile lingered in my mind long after he opened the car door for me, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back as if I might shatter if he wasn’t careful. There was something so natural about how he treated me, like I was something delicate he didn’t want to break. It made my chest feel tight in a way that was both wonderful and scary.

As he started the car, the soft hum of the engine filled the silence between us. I watched the world blur outside the window, trying not to read too much into how he kept glancing at me between gear shifts. How could I not? Every little thing he did—the gentle tone, the quiet patience, the smile that reached his eyes—felt like it hinted at something more than just friendship. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

"Are you sure you’re okay?" he asked after a moment, his voice low and concerned.

I blinked, realizing I’d been staring out the window for too long. "Yeah," I said, mustering a small smile. "Just... thinking."

"About what?" he asked, lips curving slightly as he slowed for a red light, glancing at me. "Or should I say... who?"

I shot him a look, trying to sound casual. "About our project," I said quickly, grasping my bag tighter on my lap. "We still have to come up with names for the minor characters."

He chuckled softly, the sound warm enough to melt away my last nerves. "Right. Of course. The project."

I wanted to glare at him for teasing me, but my heart wasn’t on my side. Instead, I turned back to the window, pretending to be fascinated by the city lights while battling the heat creeping into my cheeks.

The rest of the drive was quiet, but in a good way. It was the kind of silence that made you notice every breath, every glance, every gentle shift of air as he moved beside me.

As we approached Shellie’s Diner, I caught my reflection in the window—flushed cheeks and a small smile I couldn’t hide—and sighed softly to myself.

Because I found myself wondering yet again if Ethan Seymour actually liked me... and if, maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t imagining the way he treated me like someone worth holding onto.