My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 203: The Scary Only One Bed Trope

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I squinted at him, clutching the pillow like it was a weapon ready for battle. "You want to see a mama’s boy?" I asked, my voice dripping with sweetness. "Alright, I’ll show you a mama’s boy."

Before that infuriating smirk could fully spread across his face, I lunged across the bed, swinging the pillow with both hands in a dramatic arc. It hit his shoulder with a delightful thud, sending feathers flying into the room.

"What the hell?!" Adrien yelped in surprise, raising his arms to protect his face. "Hey! I take it back! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!"

Too late. I was fully embracing the comedic rage, fueled by the embarrassment of his earlier comments and the leftover adrenaline from the day. I swung again, left side, right side—then delivered a solid thump from above that made his damp hair flop into his eyes.

"Take it back properly!" I shouted between swings, struggling not to laugh, but failing miserably. "Say I’m a fearless rebel who skipped school and walked miles in a fucking blizzard!"

"You’re a fearless rebel who skipped school and walked miles in a blizzard!" he shouted back, voice muffled behind the pillow he had grabbed for defense. "A terrifying, pillow-wielding rebel! Have mercy on me, I’m sorry!"

I paused mid-swing, panting, and feeling my hair tumble out of its towel turban and stick to my flushed cheeks. Adrien peeked over the edge of his pillow, laughter dancing in his eyes, his cheeks a little rosy from the playful onslaught. "Well that wasn’t so hard, was it?"

For a brief moment, we just stared at each other, both grinning like fools, the room filled with rustling blankets and our silly laughter.

Then, the door creaked open.

Rachel stood there with her phone’s flashlight, taking in the scene: me perched on a pile of quilts, pillow raised like I was some sort of victorious gladiator, and Adrien half-buried under a pillow with feathers in his hair. Her mouth twitched and then broke into a full, delighted laugh.

"Well," she said, her voice warm with amusement, "I came to check if you needed more blankets, but it seems you’re generating a shit ton of warmth on your own."

I froze, pillow still up in the air, mortification washing over me so quickly that I almost fell off the bed. Adrien’s shoulders shook with quiet laughter beneath me.

"It’s late," Rachel continued, wiping her eyes. "You two should get some rest before you completely ruin my bedding. Goodnight, troublemakers."

"Goodnight," we echoed back, mine coming out a bit squeaky, while Adrien’s sounded suspiciously choked.

She backed out, almost closing the door, still chuckling as her footsteps faded down the hall.

The moment we heard her bedroom door click shut, Adrien turned the key in our lock with exaggerated care. The soft snick echoed in the sudden quiet.

I gulped. Oh God, one bed. One big but still single bed. With Adrien. In the dark. After I’d just been literally on top of him in a pillow fight.

Thank goodness the only light was a faint glow from the dying embers in the fireplace filtering under the door, because my face was definitely as red as a stop sign.

Adrien flopped back against the pillows, stretching out on one side of the bed and patting the empty space beside him. "Your throne awaits, princess."

"How many times have I told you to stop calling me that, asshole?"

"Like a million times, just get on the bed." Adrien said with a eye roll that made me scoff.

I stayed standing there, arms crossed, trying to look stubborn and dignified while dressed in borrowed sweatpants that were a couple sizes too big. "I think i’ll sleep on the floor."

He propped himself up on an elbow, that maddening eyebrow arched. "You’re not sleeping on the floor."

"Yes, I am. It’s fine and I’ve got a blanket. I’ll be cozy."

"Noah." His voice dropped to that low, reasonable tone that always made my resolve waver. "The floor is hardwood and feels like an ice rink. You’ll wake up frozen solid, and I’ll have to explain to your mom why his son turned into a popsicle."

"I’ll be fine," I insisted, already scouting the room for the thickest quilt to use.

Adrien kept watching me, clearly hoping I’d finally crawl under the covers like a sensible person. But when I just stood there at the foot of the bed, arms crossed and chin up in defiance, he sighed dramatically like he’d accepted some tragic fate and rolled his eyes again so hard I thought they might get stuck.

"Fine," he muttered, pushing the blankets aside as he got off the bed. Then he started grabbing pillows with a purpose, piling them on the floor to make a makeshift bed that, honestly, looked about as comfy as sleeping on a stack of hockey pucks.

I blinked. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" he replied, his voice dry as he folded a quilt into a makeshift pad and placed it over the pillows. "Since you won’t share the bed, I’m taking the floor. I’d rather freeze down here than let you do it."

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words just disappeared. Watching him, this six-foot tall, annoyingly thoughtful stepbrother making a terrible bed for himself on the cold hardwood while his damp hair fell around his face with that faded T-shirt and sweatpants combo somehow making him look both cozy and frustratingly attractive made my guilt hit hard like a pillow to the face (which, to be fair, I had done earlier).

God, Noah, I thought to myself, it’s just a bed. A big, blanket-filled bed. You’re being ridiculous. Childish and dramatic in fact; he’s just trying to keep you from freezing. Get over yourself.

Even though this reminded me of the only one bed trope in the fanfics Gigi would gush about and I’d stare at her in mild confusion.

"Fine," I blurted out before my pride could intervene. I sat at the edge of the mattress, pulling my knees up. "I’m sorry. That was stupid. We can share. It’s big enough." 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

Adrien paused, quilt halfway folded, looking up at me with one eyebrow raised. "You sure? I was actually getting a bit into my luxury floor suite. Five-star reviews on Yelp: ’Rustic charm, excellent back pain.’"

I snorted despite myself. "Positive. Get your butt up here before I change my mind and ban you from the bed."

He grinned, a mix of victory and relief, and abandoned his floor nest in seconds. I busied myself rearranging the mountain of blankets, shaking out the comforter and smoothing the sheets like I was prepping for a fancy hotel inspection anything to avoid eye contact while he climbed into the bed on the opposite side.

We settled in carefully, like two people trying to share a tiny island. There was a solid foot and a half of blank space between us, a neutral zone marked by a pillow barricade I’d built without even realizing it.

The cold draft from the power outage still seeped in around the window frame, but under the heavy quilts, the bed felt warm almost too warm, considering the person making half of that heat was lying a careful distance away.

For a minute, we just lay there in awkward silence, listening to the wind and the occasional creak of the old house. I stared at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the plaster, hyper-aware of every movement of the mattress and each soft breath from his side.

Then, since we both seemed unable to just sit in silence for too long, we spoke at the same time.

"So, Logan Seymour—"

"About that name coincidence—"

We paused and laughed quietly, nerves easing a bit.

"You go first," he said, voice low in the dark.

I rolled onto my side to face him, tucking my hands under my cheek. "It’s just... weird, right? Logan Seymour. Same last name as Ethan. I know it’s probably nothing...Seymour isn’t exactly rare, but my brain keeps doing backflips over it."

Adrien shifted too, propping his head up. Even in the dim light, I could see the outline of his profile, hair falling across his forehead.

"I noticed right away when Rachel said it," he admitted. "Had the same thought. But yeah, it’s probably just a coincidence. Still..."

He shrugged, the blanket rustling. "Wouldn’t hurt to look into it. Quietly. We’ve got a full name and a profession now. That’s more than we had yesterday."

"True," I sighed. "We didn’t exactly hit the jackpot tonight, but we didn’t come up completely empty either. One solid lead. That’s something."

He hummed in agreement. "Better than nothing. And Rachel...Christiana, was nice. Sweet, even didn’t expect that."

"Me neither," I whispered. "She really loved your mom."

"Yeah," he said softly. "She did."

Another brief silence settled, but this one felt kinder. Outside, the storm raged on, but in here, under all those quilts and with our careful distance, it felt like we’d carved out a little pocket of calm.

"Hey," Adrien said after a minute, tone lighter, "at least if we freeze to death tonight, we’ll be doing it in the same bed."

I snorted and reached across the pillow barricade to swat his arm. "Speak for yourself. I plan to survive and tell everyone you snore."

"Liar. You’re the one who drools on car windows."

"Do not!"

"Do too."

We fell into quiet laughter again, the kind that fades into comfortable silence. The space between us remained just as it was, safe, respectful, wide enough to pretend nothing had changed.