New Stepbro Helps After Injury
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Part 9:
“We’ll talk at home” he whispered as he cut off the water and started drying me off.
I couldn’t wait to get home.
_______
The rest of the school day dragged by in a blur. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t think straight. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the warmth of Max’s hands on me, the way he looked at me, and the way he kissed me. It was hard to concentrate on anything else. Teachers talked, bells rang, people moved all around me, but none of it stuck. I was somewhere else completely. Still standing in that shower room with him.
The day finally ended and now we were in the car, heading home. The silence between us wasn’t exactly tense, but it wasn’t easy either. Max kept his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift. I stared out the window, watching houses blur past, my mind racing with everything I wanted to ask him—but didn’t know how to say. I couldn’t exactly name what I was feeling, so how was I supposed to talk about it?
After a few miles, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you okay?” I asked, quietly. “You haven’t said anything since…”
He glanced at me, his jaw tight. “Can we just wait till we get home?”
That hit me in the chest. I nodded, looking down at my lap. My stomach twisted as thoughts spiraled. Did he regret it? Was he freaked out? Was this the part where he pulled away?
When we got home, the smell of garlic and roasted vegetables filled the air. My mom had cooked—something she rarely had time for lately—so I knew it was one of those “family dinner” nights where we were all expected to sit down together and act normal. I swallowed the lump in my throat and followed Max inside.
The table was already set, and Richard was pouring water into the glasses. My mom smiled when she saw us. “Perfect timing, boys. Wash up and sit. It’s still hot.”
We did as we were told, neither of us saying much. I kept stealing glances at Max, trying to gauge what he was thinking, but he gave nothing away.
Dinner started off mostly quiet, until Richard looked up and said, “So, how was school today?”
I didn’t want to say anything, but the silence was too awkward. “Uh… I tried to play soccer during P.E.,” I said. “But I ended up falling and Coach made me quit early.”
Max’s head snapped toward me. He didn’t say anything, but the look he gave me said ‘Really?’ His eyes narrowed just slightly.
“You WHAT!?” my mom screamed, her fork pausing midair. “Benjamin Michael Barnes, you’re in two casts. What were you thinking?”
“I just… thought I could do something. Soccer doesn’t use hands. Mostly.”
“Well, clearly that didn’t go well if you fell,” she muttered, shaking her head. “You need to be more careful.”
“I am,” I said, but it came out too fast and defensive.
After that, the table got quiet again, except for the soft clinking of silverware. I could feel Max still watching me, but I didn’t dare look up.
When we finished, Max and I volunteered to do the dishes. It was mostly an excuse to get out of the room and away from the weight of everyone’s eyes.
We worked in silence, I wasn’t much help, but I tried. The tension was like static in the air.
Once everything was put away, we headed to our room. I stepped in first and sat on the edge of my bed, staring down at the floor.
Max closed the door behind us, but I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” I said suddenly, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “If I made things weird. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just—after today—I thought maybe you hated me now.”
There was a moment of silence before me. Then I heard Max sigh softly.
“Benji,” he said, and the way he said my name made my chest tighten. “You really think I could ever hate you?”
I finally looked up. My heart was pounding again. I had no idea what he was going to say next.
He just looked at me—really looked at me—and something softened in his expression. Then, without asking, without hesitating, he stepped across the small space between us and leaned down.
His hand cupped the side of my face, and his lips pressed to mine.
It was gentle. Brief. But everything in me went stiff. And I do mean everything.
By the time he pulled away, my heart was racing, my mouth parted in shock—but relief too. Like I’d been holding my breath for hours and could finally exhale.
“You’re not alone in this,” he said quietly. “Not anymore.”
Max’s lips were still tingling against mine when he pulled back, his hand lingering on my cheek like he wasn’t quite ready to let go.
I stared up at him, heart hammering, skin flushed and warm. “So you…don’t hate me?” I asked, voice embarrassingly small.
He huffed, almost a laugh, and dropped his forehead to mine. “Benji. I kissed you. Does that seem like someone who hates you?”
I let out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering closed as I soaked in the warmth of him, the closeness, the quiet hum of something electric between us.
He sat beside me on the edge of the bed, and our legs pressed together. Neither of us moved away. His thigh was solid and warm against mine, and I was keenly aware of every point of contact. His breath. His scent. The soft tension in the air.
“I’ve been thinking about it all day,” he admitted, voice low. “About you. About…what happened.”
My stomach flipped. “Me too,” I whispered. “I couldn’t focus on anything else.”
Max looked over at me again, and there was something raw in his eyes now—something honest. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. Or go too far. But I don’t regret it.”
My mouth felt dry. “You don’t?”
He shook his head slowly. “I’ve been trying to make sense of what this is. What I feel. And it’s…complicated, yeah. But I know I care about you. I want to be near you. I want to take care of you.”
I swallowed hard, heat rising up my neck. “You already do.”
“Then let me keep doing it.” he said, his fingers brushing mine as he stood and removed his shirt.
My god his body was perfect. Not overly sculpted but enough to tell he cared. I always tried to avoid staring for too long before, but now I was able to look—to really look—without having to feel guilty. He slid down his shorts and the bulge in his underwear was undeniable. I didn’t have to wonder for long because as soon as his shorts hit the floor, he had his fingers hooked in the waistband of his boxers and they quickly hit the ground too.
There it was. I’d seen it before, sure. Hell, I’d even sucked it. But this time…felt different. He was hard because of our kiss. Because of me. I took my time and studied his cock. Longer than mine definitely. At 6.5” I didn’t have anything to complain about, but I definitely wouldn’t be starring in a porn any time soon. And while average in length, my girth was on the smaller side. Roughly 4.5” if I’m lenient with the tape measure.
But Max.
Based off what I felt in my throat the other day and what I was seeing now, I’d say he was close to 8”. His circumcision scar faded but visible under his THICK head. Seriously, it was thick as fuck. A deep, almost purple color to it from how aroused he was. Clearly all the blood in his body was in his cock right now judging on how full it looked. A very prominent vein ran along his shaft. I remember feeling that on my tongue when I sucked him, but now I was seeing it up close and it made my mouth water.
Max stepped closer to me, grabbing my shirt at the bottom and slowly pulling it off me—minding my casts still. He then pushed me back, flat on the bed, and removed my shorts and underwear very quickly. My smaller, but equally as hard dick sprung out and slapped against my abdomen.
I leaned back up now that we were both naked and wasted no time taking him in my mouth. I’ve been wanting to suck him again since that first time and now I was getting my wish.
Max grabbed the back of my head. Forcefully, but still with a touch of gentleness. Like he needed this desperately but didn’t want to rip out a single strand of my hair.
I swallowed him deep. He entered my throat with ease and my tongue ran around that bulging vein once again.
He slowly pulled out and I used my casted arms behind him to pull him back in. It wasn’t a want. I needed him in me.
I began moving my head back and forth. Only allowing a little bit of him to escape my mouth at a time. He let me do this for some time until he grabbed my head and pulled out quickly—holding his cupped hand up to my mouth “Spit” he demanded. So I did. Hawked up as much as I could manage and spit it into his hand.
As his now spit-lubed hand grabbed my leaky dick and began to stroke, his cock made its way back into my mouth. Thrusting harder and harder. The pace of his hips moving in and out matched the pace of his hand jerking me.
Our moans in unison. Our bond growing even stronger. I this moment…my feelings that I couldn’t quite figure out earlier were assigned a name. It was love. I loved Max. Not just in the step-brotherly way. I was in love with him.
While my mind raced at this realization, Max pulled out of my mouth again. With a low, guttural groan he ordered “Flip over.”
“Yes sir” was all I could think to say as he helped me flip on the mattress and I presented my ass to him.
“Good boyyy” he moaned as he lowered his head towards my ass. I could feel his breath on my hole.
My breath hitched as he got closer, just inches away now. Fuck I knew what was coming was about to be so good and if he moved any slower, I thought I might die right then and there.
As always, if you feel inclined to read more sections earlier than they are posted here: Get more from JaxxStories on Patreon
“We’ll talk at home” he whispered as he cut off the water and started drying me off.
I couldn’t wait to get home.
_______
The rest of the school day dragged by in a blur. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t think straight. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the warmth of Max’s hands on me, the way he looked at me, and the way he kissed me. It was hard to concentrate on anything else. Teachers talked, bells rang, people moved all around me, but none of it stuck. I was somewhere else completely. Still standing in that shower room with him.
The day finally ended and now we were in the car, heading home. The silence between us wasn’t exactly tense, but it wasn’t easy either. Max kept his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift. I stared out the window, watching houses blur past, my mind racing with everything I wanted to ask him—but didn’t know how to say. I couldn’t exactly name what I was feeling, so how was I supposed to talk about it?
After a few miles, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you okay?” I asked, quietly. “You haven’t said anything since…”
He glanced at me, his jaw tight. “Can we just wait till we get home?”
That hit me in the chest. I nodded, looking down at my lap. My stomach twisted as thoughts spiraled. Did he regret it? Was he freaked out? Was this the part where he pulled away?
When we got home, the smell of garlic and roasted vegetables filled the air. My mom had cooked—something she rarely had time for lately—so I knew it was one of those “family dinner” nights where we were all expected to sit down together and act normal. I swallowed the lump in my throat and followed Max inside.
The table was already set, and Richard was pouring water into the glasses. My mom smiled when she saw us. “Perfect timing, boys. Wash up and sit. It’s still hot.”
We did as we were told, neither of us saying much. I kept stealing glances at Max, trying to gauge what he was thinking, but he gave nothing away.
Dinner started off mostly quiet, until Richard looked up and said, “So, how was school today?”
I didn’t want to say anything, but the silence was too awkward. “Uh… I tried to play soccer during P.E.,” I said. “But I ended up falling and Coach made me quit early.”
Max’s head snapped toward me. He didn’t say anything, but the look he gave me said ‘Really?’ His eyes narrowed just slightly.
“You WHAT!?” my mom screamed, her fork pausing midair. “Benjamin Michael Barnes, you’re in two casts. What were you thinking?”
“I just… thought I could do something. Soccer doesn’t use hands. Mostly.”
“Well, clearly that didn’t go well if you fell,” she muttered, shaking her head. “You need to be more careful.”
“I am,” I said, but it came out too fast and defensive.
After that, the table got quiet again, except for the soft clinking of silverware. I could feel Max still watching me, but I didn’t dare look up.
When we finished, Max and I volunteered to do the dishes. It was mostly an excuse to get out of the room and away from the weight of everyone’s eyes.
We worked in silence, I wasn’t much help, but I tried. The tension was like static in the air.
Once everything was put away, we headed to our room. I stepped in first and sat on the edge of my bed, staring down at the floor.
Max closed the door behind us, but I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” I said suddenly, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “If I made things weird. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just—after today—I thought maybe you hated me now.”
There was a moment of silence before me. Then I heard Max sigh softly.
“Benji,” he said, and the way he said my name made my chest tighten. “You really think I could ever hate you?”
I finally looked up. My heart was pounding again. I had no idea what he was going to say next.
He just looked at me—really looked at me—and something softened in his expression. Then, without asking, without hesitating, he stepped across the small space between us and leaned down.
His hand cupped the side of my face, and his lips pressed to mine.
It was gentle. Brief. But everything in me went stiff. And I do mean everything.
By the time he pulled away, my heart was racing, my mouth parted in shock—but relief too. Like I’d been holding my breath for hours and could finally exhale.
“You’re not alone in this,” he said quietly. “Not anymore.”
Max’s lips were still tingling against mine when he pulled back, his hand lingering on my cheek like he wasn’t quite ready to let go.
I stared up at him, heart hammering, skin flushed and warm. “So you…don’t hate me?” I asked, voice embarrassingly small.
He huffed, almost a laugh, and dropped his forehead to mine. “Benji. I kissed you. Does that seem like someone who hates you?”
I let out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering closed as I soaked in the warmth of him, the closeness, the quiet hum of something electric between us.
He sat beside me on the edge of the bed, and our legs pressed together. Neither of us moved away. His thigh was solid and warm against mine, and I was keenly aware of every point of contact. His breath. His scent. The soft tension in the air.
“I’ve been thinking about it all day,” he admitted, voice low. “About you. About…what happened.”
My stomach flipped. “Me too,” I whispered. “I couldn’t focus on anything else.”
Max looked over at me again, and there was something raw in his eyes now—something honest. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. Or go too far. But I don’t regret it.”
My mouth felt dry. “You don’t?”
He shook his head slowly. “I’ve been trying to make sense of what this is. What I feel. And it’s…complicated, yeah. But I know I care about you. I want to be near you. I want to take care of you.”
I swallowed hard, heat rising up my neck. “You already do.”
“Then let me keep doing it.” he said, his fingers brushing mine as he stood and removed his shirt.
My god his body was perfect. Not overly sculpted but enough to tell he cared. I always tried to avoid staring for too long before, but now I was able to look—to really look—without having to feel guilty. He slid down his shorts and the bulge in his underwear was undeniable. I didn’t have to wonder for long because as soon as his shorts hit the floor, he had his fingers hooked in the waistband of his boxers and they quickly hit the ground too.
There it was. I’d seen it before, sure. Hell, I’d even sucked it. But this time…felt different. He was hard because of our kiss. Because of me. I took my time and studied his cock. Longer than mine definitely. At 6.5” I didn’t have anything to complain about, but I definitely wouldn’t be starring in a porn any time soon. And while average in length, my girth was on the smaller side. Roughly 4.5” if I’m lenient with the tape measure.
But Max.
Based off what I felt in my throat the other day and what I was seeing now, I’d say he was close to 8”. His circumcision scar faded but visible under his THICK head. Seriously, it was thick as fuck. A deep, almost purple color to it from how aroused he was. Clearly all the blood in his body was in his cock right now judging on how full it looked. A very prominent vein ran along his shaft. I remember feeling that on my tongue when I sucked him, but now I was seeing it up close and it made my mouth water.
Max stepped closer to me, grabbing my shirt at the bottom and slowly pulling it off me—minding my casts still. He then pushed me back, flat on the bed, and removed my shorts and underwear very quickly. My smaller, but equally as hard dick sprung out and slapped against my abdomen.
I leaned back up now that we were both naked and wasted no time taking him in my mouth. I’ve been wanting to suck him again since that first time and now I was getting my wish.
Max grabbed the back of my head. Forcefully, but still with a touch of gentleness. Like he needed this desperately but didn’t want to rip out a single strand of my hair.
I swallowed him deep. He entered my throat with ease and my tongue ran around that bulging vein once again.
He slowly pulled out and I used my casted arms behind him to pull him back in. It wasn’t a want. I needed him in me.
I began moving my head back and forth. Only allowing a little bit of him to escape my mouth at a time. He let me do this for some time until he grabbed my head and pulled out quickly—holding his cupped hand up to my mouth “Spit” he demanded. So I did. Hawked up as much as I could manage and spit it into his hand.
As his now spit-lubed hand grabbed my leaky dick and began to stroke, his cock made its way back into my mouth. Thrusting harder and harder. The pace of his hips moving in and out matched the pace of his hand jerking me.
Our moans in unison. Our bond growing even stronger. I this moment…my feelings that I couldn’t quite figure out earlier were assigned a name. It was love. I loved Max. Not just in the step-brotherly way. I was in love with him.
While my mind raced at this realization, Max pulled out of my mouth again. With a low, guttural groan he ordered “Flip over.”
“Yes sir” was all I could think to say as he helped me flip on the mattress and I presented my ass to him.
“Good boyyy” he moaned as he lowered his head towards my ass. I could feel his breath on my hole.
My breath hitched as he got closer, just inches away now. Fuck I knew what was coming was about to be so good and if he moved any slower, I thought I might die right then and there.
As always, if you feel inclined to read more sections earlier than they are posted here: Get more from JaxxStories on Patreon
Your way with words and character development takes real talent. You are an excellent writer. Thanks for sharing your expertise and talent with everyone.
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I just busted the biggest load to this story. Whew 
Sweet. Lovely, refreshing. Not overly sexual... much better than current depiction of LGBTQI media and literature going on lately
I'd say we all wished we could have/had a guy like Max at some point
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