Movie Night with My Big Brother

Content Advisory: The following narrative features characters who are all 18 years of age or older and involves consensual, fictional depictions of incestuous relationships, intended for an adult audience. Reader discretion is advised due to explicit content.

First person as Kailey, I normally use my name. But I am trying different way's to write my stories. Enjoy love you all 🖤

I stood at the living room window, leaning my hip against the armrest of the couch as I watched my parents' car disappear down the street. My hands played idly with the hem of my tank top--thin and snug enough to cling in all the right places. It was one of those tops that dipped just low enough to make my mom roll her eyes, but hey, she wasn't here, was she? Besides, what's so wrong with showing a little cleavage?

My denim shorts were short enough to make sitting feel like a strategic decision, but I wasn't planning on moving much today anyway. The house was mine for the whole weekend. No parents. No rules. No one telling me to be "appropriate" or to "cover up." Eighteen and free. It felt like heaven.

I flopped onto the couch, stretching my legs out, my bare toes brushing the soft cushions. My phone buzzed on the table, but I ignored it. The music blasting from the speaker was much more interesting--heavy on bass, the way I liked it. The beat thumped through the floorboards, rattling the glass doors on the cabinet by the TV.

I grinned to myself, imagining the next two days. Junk food, lazy movie marathons, maybe sneaking a beer or two from the stash Dad thought he'd hidden behind the flour canisters. I could do whatever I wanted. No one to nag me, no one to bother me. Absolute paradise.

Or so I thought.

The sound of a car engine pulling into the driveway snapped me out of my daydream. I frowned, reaching for the remote to mute the music, then peeked through the window. My stomach sank when I spotted the familiar outline of Carl's old truck.

My older brother.

What the hell was he doing here?

Before I could even process it, he was already at the front door. I yanked it open just as he raised his fist to knock.

"Carl? What the hell are you doing here?"

He leaned against the doorframe, a smirk spreading across his face. His jacket hung lazily over one shoulder, and he looked every bit as smug as ever. Dressed in worn jeans and a black t-shirt that stretched snug over his broad shoulders, he had that irritating air of casual confidence.

"Nice to see you too, Kailey," he said, his gaze flicking down briefly before he stepped inside uninvited.

I groaned, crossing my arms under my chest, which only made my cleavage more noticeable. "Seriously. Why are you here?"

"Mom and Dad asked me to check on you. Said they didn't trust you to survive 48 hours without burning the house down or throwing a rave." He kicked off his boots and tossed his jacket onto the armchair like he owned the place.

"Oh my God, you've got to be kidding me," I said, throwing my head back in exasperation. "I'm not a kid anymore! I can handle being home alone."

He raised an eyebrow, leaning casually against the wall as his eyes scanned the messy living room. "Yeah, I'm sure you think that. But you're not exactly known for making the best decisions, are you?"

"Wow," I said, rolling my eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Carl. Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Nope," he said, popping the 'p.' He wandered into the kitchen like he owned the place. I heard cabinets opening and closing as he rummaged around.

"Okay, you've checked up on me," I called after him. "Now you can leave!"

"Not so fast," he said, reappearing with a bag of crisps in hand. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. "I think I'll stick around for a bit."

I glared at him. "Why?"

"Because I'm bored, and your TV's better than mine," he said, like that was the most logical explanation in the world.

"Unbelievable," I muttered, collapsing onto the other end of the couch. I grabbed the nearest throw pillow and hugged it against me, glaring daggers at him.

"Relax," he said, smirking as he crunched on a crisp. "Tell you what--I'll even go to the shop and grab some proper snacks. You know, since I'm such a generous big brother."

"Generous?" I snorted. "Since when?"

"Since now," he said, grabbing his keys and standing up. "What do you want? Crisps? Chocolate? Maybe a beer or two for the responsible, totally mature adult in the house?"

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Fine. Surprise me."

While he was gone, I half-heartedly flipped through the stack of DVDs by the TV. I wasn't expecting him to be gone long, but when he finally came back, it was with enough snacks to feed a small army.

"Jesus, Carl," I said as he unloaded his haul onto the coffee table. Bags of crisps, bars of chocolate, a couple of pre-packed sandwiches, and--of course--a crate of beer. "Did you rob the shop?"

"You said you wanted snacks," he said, cracking open a beer and handing it to me.

"Cheers," I said, taking it from him. The cold fizz hit the back of my throat, and I sank deeper into the couch. "You're seriously staying, aren't you?"

"Yep," he said, popping the cap off his own beer. "Might as well make it a proper lazy day. Go grab your blanket or something--it's cold in here."

I hesitated for a second before sighing. "Fine. But I get to pick the movie."

"Deal," he said, settling back into the couch like he owned it.

When I came back downstairs, dragging my massive blanket with me, Carl had already commandeered the remote.

"Move," I said, nudging him with my knee.

"Bossy," he teased, shifting over to make room.

I spread the blanket over both of us, tucking it around my legs and letting the rest drape over Carl's lap. "Okay, put this one on," I said, handing him The Italian Job.

"Solid choice," he said, holding the DVD up to inspect it. "But let me guess--you're just here for Mark Wahlberg."

I smirked, taking another sip of my beer. "And you're here for Charlize Theron. Don't act like you're above it."

He chuckled, sliding the disc into the player. "You caught me. But the original Italian Job was better. Remakes never hold up."

As the opening credits rolled, he shifted under the blanket, making himself comfortable. The blanket was warm, and I couldn't help but notice how close we were, our legs brushing beneath the fabric.

"You're such a brat, you know that?" he said, nudging me with his elbow.

"Says the guy who totally ruined my weekend just because he's bored," I shot back.

"Please," he said, leaning back smugly. "You'd be bored out of your mind without me. Admit it--you're actually having fun for once."

I smirked, pretending to focus on the screen. "Sure, Carl. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

The movie started, and for the first time all day, the room settled into a comfortable quiet. The coffee table was covered in snacks, the blanket was warm, and the beer wasn't half bad. Maybe having Carl crash my weekend wasn't the worst thing in the world after all.

Just as the movie's first big heist scene started to play, Carl glanced over at me. His tone was softer this time, less teasing.

"So, Mom told me about Darren."

The words hung in the air for a second, and I paused mid-sip. I set my beer down on the coffee table, avoiding his gaze.

"Yeah? What about him?" I said, trying to sound casual, though my voice came out a little too flat.

"I just... I don't know," he said, watching the screen but clearly not paying attention to the movie anymore. "I really thought he was the one for you."

I scoffed, leaning back against the couch. "Yeah, well, guess I was wrong. End of story."

Carl didn't reply right away, and for a moment, I thought he was going to let it drop. But then he spoke, his voice low and steady.

"He's an idiot, you know that, right?"

I glanced over at him, his expression unreadable as his eyes stayed fixed on the screen.

"He didn't deserve you, Kailey," he said, finally meeting my gaze.

There was something about the way he said it--matter-of-fact but sincere--that made my throat tighten. I swallowed hard, forcing a smile to my lips.

"Thanks, Carl," I said, nudging his arm lightly. "Now shut up and watch the movie before you make this awkward."

He smirked, cracking open another beer. "Fine. But just so you know, if I ever see him again, I'm punching him. That's what big brothers are for, right?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "You're such a drama queen."

"Hey, I'm serious," he said, grinning now. "One punch. Right in the face. Maybe two if he doesn't say sorry."

"Okay, okay, I get it," I said, settling back into the couch. Despite myself, I couldn't help the warmth spreading in my chest. I sat quietly for a moment or two before speaking.

"So what about you, anyone on the scene,

"So what about you?" I asked, glancing sideways at him. "Anyone on the scene? Or are you too busy being an overbearing big brother to have a life of your own?"

Carl smirked, taking a long sip of his beer before setting the bottle down with a soft clink. "You mean aside from babysitting my pain-in-the-ass little sister? Nah, nothing serious."

"Wow," I teased, leaning my elbow on the back of the couch and resting my chin in my hand. "Carl, 33 and single. Should I be worried about you?"

"Please," he said, turning his head to look at me. "It's called being selective. You don't just settle, Kailey. You'd know that if you didn't date guys like Darren."

I shot him a mock glare, but his smirk didn't falter. "Okay, rude. And for the record, Darren wasn't that bad. He just... wasn't what I thought he was."

Carl raised an eyebrow, leaning back into the couch. "Yeah, well, guys like that usually aren't. But you'll figure it out."

I rolled my eyes, but something about his casual confidence was annoyingly reassuring. He made it sound like it was all so simple, like life was a game you could just play smarter if you knew the rules.

"Alright, Mr. Wise and Mature," I said, tilting my beer bottle toward him. "So what's your excuse? Why's there no one sweeping you off your feet?"

Carl chuckled, a low, lazy sound as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I dunno. Maybe I just haven't met someone who makes it worth the hassle yet."

I snorted, leaning back against the couch. "So basically, you're picky and lazy. Got it."

"Hey," he said, nudging me with his elbow. "It's called having standards. Something you could stand to learn, little sis."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, waving him off. "We can't all be perfect like you."

"Damn straight," he said, grinning as he reached for another crisp.

The room fell quiet again, the sound of the movie filling the space. I stretched my legs out a little more, letting my toes brush against the edge of the coffee table. The blanket was warm, the beer was good, and despite all his teasing, Carl being here wasn't as bad as I'd made it out to be.

"You know," I said after a moment, my voice softer now, "it's actually kind of nice having you here."

Carl turned his head slightly, a look of mild surprise on his face. "Wow. Did you just say something nice to me? Is it the beer talking?"

"Shut up," I said, tossing a piece of popcorn at him. "I'm being serious."

He caught the popcorn midair and popped it into his mouth with a grin. "Well, don't get used to it. I'm not sticking around forever. Gotta let you crash and burn on your own eventually."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Carl."

"Anytime, sis, nah but honestly I trust you. Mom and Dad you know what they are like, over protective of there little girl," he said, smirking.

"But I'm not little anymore," I said, sitting up straighter and giving him a pointed look. "I mean, I'm eighteen. I'm basically an adult."

"Listen, I know that," Carl said, his voice shifting into something softer, almost hesitant. He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes briefly flicking away from mine before coming back. "I can clearly see you aren't a kid anymore. You're... erm... a woman now."

His words lingered awkwardly in the air, and I couldn't help but smirk, letting the silence hang just long enough to make him uncomfortable.

"Wow," I teased, tilting my head at him. "That almost sounded like a compliment, Carl. Should I be flattered? Why the pause when you said woman. Oh was you checking me out."

Carl's smirk faltered for half a second, and he shot me a look that was half amusement, half exasperation. "Oh, for God's sake, Kailey. Don't flatter yourself," he said, shaking his head as he leaned back into the couch.

I grinned, loving how uncomfortable he looked. "You paused. I heard it. 'You're... erm... a woman now.' That's what you said. Admit it--you were totally checking me out."

"You're delusional," Carl said, cracking open another beer and taking a long sip, avoiding my gaze.

"Am I?" I teased, leaning toward him and resting my chin in my hand. "You're looking a little red, Carl. What's the matter? Can't handle the truth?"

Carl froze for a second, his beer halfway to his lips, before finally setting it down on the table. He gave me a long, exasperated look, but there was something softer underneath it that I couldn't quite place.

"Okay, fine," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe I paused. And maybe I noticed, alright? Can you blame me? You're... you're beautiful, Kailey."

I blinked, caught completely off guard. I expected a joke, maybe some snarky comment to deflect, but the way he said it felt genuine, almost annoyed.

He leaned back into the couch, his eyes fixed on the TV. "And that's exactly why Darren pisses me off so much. He didn't deserve you--not even close."

I swallowed, unsure how to respond. For once, I didn't have a quick comeback or a teasing remark ready.

"You really mean that?" I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Carl turned his head to look at me, his expression serious. "Of course I do. I might give you a hard time, but that doesn't mean I don't notice stuff. You're smart, funny, stubborn as hell... and yeah, you're beautiful. Any guy who doesn't see that is an idiot. And Darren? He's the biggest idiot of them all."

The warmth in my chest from earlier spread, and I felt my cheeks flush. I wasn't used to hearing Carl say things like this.

"Wow," I said, trying to lighten the mood with a small laugh. "This is a whole new side of you. Who knew Carl could be sweet?"

"Don't get used to it," he muttered, taking another swig of his beer.

I nudged his arm with mine, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Thanks, though. I mean it. Even if you're kind of a pain in the ass most of the time."

"Hey, that's what big brothers are for," he said, grinning again, his usual confidence returning. "But seriously, Kailey. Don't ever settle for someone like Darren again. Promise me that."

"I promise," I said, holding up my pinky finger.

He rolled his eyes but hooked his pinky with mine anyway. "Good. Now let's watch the damn movie before you get all sappy on me. You don't want to see me blush."

I squeezed his thigh under the blanket not meaning anything, "thank you Carl."

Carl froze when I squeezed his thigh, his body tensing for just a moment under the blanket. He looked down at my hand, then back up at me, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he smirked, shaking his head as if trying to brush it off.

"Careful, Kailey," he said, his voice dipping into a teasing tone to mask whatever he might've been feeling. "You keep this up, and I'm going to start thinking you actually like me."

"I do like you, maybe at first I thought you was just a pain in the ass," I said, smirking at him. "But you're growing on me. Kind of like a bad habit I can't shake."

Carl raised an eyebrow, his smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. "Wow, what a heartfelt confession. Should I be flattered or insulted?"

"Flattered," I shot back, leaning into the couch with a grin. "I don't hand out compliments often, you know."

"Yeah, because it might kill you," he teased, reaching for another crisp. "Don't get too sentimental, though. I might start to think you're going soft on me."

I laughed softly, but there was a hint of truth to his words. Carl and I had always had this playful, love-hate dynamic, but moments like this--when we let the banter drop for a second--felt oddly grounding.

"You're not as bad as I thought, you know," I said after a moment, my tone quieter now.

"Well, don't say that too loud," he replied, glancing at me sideways. "You'll ruin my reputation."

"You with a reputation haha what reputation?" I teased, raising an eyebrow at him. "The reputation of being a snack-hoarding, beer-stealing, couch-crashing older brother?"

Carl let out a dry laugh, reaching for another crisp. "Hey, I work hard to maintain that reputation, thank you very much."

I shook my head, laughing as I leaned back into the couch. The blanket shifted slightly, and I felt his leg press closer to mine under the soft fabric. It wasn't unusual, but in the quiet of the moment, it felt... different. I brushed it off, deciding it was just the coziness of the room and the beer making me notice things I normally wouldn't.

"You know, you're kind of annoying," I said, glancing at him from the corner of my eye.

"And yet, here I am, saving your boring weekend," he replied without missing a beat as he stared at my neckline of my crop top.

"Saving it?" I shot back, narrowing my eyes. "More like hijacking it. I was doing perfectly fine without you barging in. Oh and by the way my eyes are up here." I noticed him staring and he snapped out of it acting like he had no clue what I meant.

Carl blinked, his smirk faltering just for a moment as if caught off guard. "What? I wasn't--" He stopped, his usual quick-witted comeback failing him for once. His cheeks turned just the faintest shade of red, and he rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to focus on the TV. "Oh, please. Don't flatter yourself, Kailey. I was just... zoning out."

"Zoning out? Really?" I said, raising an eyebrow and leaning slightly toward him, unable to hide the teasing grin spreading across my face. "That's your excuse? Because from where I'm sitting, it looked like your zoning out was a little... specific."

Carl's voice trailed off, and for the first time since he'd arrived, he actually looked a little flustered. He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting to the TV and then back to me like he was trying to figure out how to talk himself out of this one.

"Yeah, sorry," he muttered, the words coming out more genuine than I expected. "I shouldn't look. My bad."

"Honestly, I don't mind. Just what is there to look at though," I said looking down at my drink my other hand not sure why was still on his thigh, maybe for comfort.

Carl turned his head to me sharply, his brow furrowing as if I had just said something completely ridiculous. He leaned forward slightly, his expression more serious than I'd seen it all day. "Are you kidding me, Kailey?" he said, his voice low but firm.

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in his tone. "What?" I asked, trying to brush it off with a shrug, though his intensity made me feel a little self-conscious. "I'm just saying. I'm not, like... you know, anything special."

He stared at me for a long moment, his jaw tightening before he shook his head with a disbelieving laugh. "Wow, you really don't see it, do you?"

"See what?" I said, my arms over my chest defensively, though the gesture only emphasized the curve of my neckline, which I quickly noticed made his eyes flick away awkwardly. That small movement only made my cheeks warm.

"Kailey," he said, his voice softer this time, but still laced with an edge of exasperation. "You're gorgeous. Like, stop-trying-to-downplay-it gorgeous. You walk into a room, and people notice. Trust me, I've seen it happen. Hell, I've had to scare off more than one idiot who thought they had a chance with you."