Off with Her Pants

Author's Note: Thanks to LizHaze for editing. Also, be warned that this story contains some weird butt stuff. If you're squeamish about that sort of thing, proceed with caution.

****

I was right in the middle of brushing my teeth when the bathroom door burst open. Denver, my demonstrably inconsiderate older brother, stared at me for a second as though confused by my presence, then kept coming.

"Hwaa uh faah?" I demanded around a mouthful of toothbrush.

I tried to body block Denver and force him back out. He just grinned that annoyingly charming smile of his and pushed me gently but firmly back to the sink.

"Sorry, Relly, I gotta piss."

I spit into the sink, clearing my mouth. "You couldn't wait two seconds? You couldn't even knock?"

"Nope. Gonna burst."

"I coulda been naked, you know."

My brother examined my typical nightshirt and panties combo. "You're not though, are you."

"I coulda been. That's the point. You have to knock, at least."

Denver flipped the seat up on the toilet and unzipped himself. His back was to me so I couldn't see anything, but I whirled my head and resolutely faced forward anyway. Just because he had no sense of decorum didn't mean I couldn't comport myself.

"Maybe you shouldn't be getting naked to brush your teeth."

The liquid splash of urine hitting toilet water interrupted any retort I might have made. I finished up brushing and rinsed my mouth out. Denver was still pissing. Fucker.

"I could have been getting ready for a shower," I said a little louder than necessary.

"Shower wasn't running."

My eyes narrowed and I glared a hole through the back of Denver's stupid head. He knew logic infuriated me when I was trying to make a point. I took half a step closer to my brother, then lashed out with a carefully weighted kick. It caught him right in the butt and made him stumble.

"Aw, fuck," he said. "You made me get it everywhere."

"Oops," I said sweetly. "Guess you'll have to clean it up. If only you'd waited until I was done."

"I sense there's a moral here somewhere."

"You sense correctly. Ponder it while you scrub."

I flounced triumphantly out of the bathroom. Justice had been served.

It was getting pretty late, and I was all prepped for bed and everything, but I wasn't quite ready to go to sleep yet. It was time for a little Netflix. The parents were in bed already, and Denver... well, he might still make a nuisance of himself, but in theory I had the living room all to myself.

Our family had acquired a new couch recently. It was fancy as shit and fit for a queen. It was soft and comfy as one could ask for, and the ends each reclined with pop-up footstools, kind of like a lazyboy. Personally, I enjoyed stretching out across its entire length. It was unnecessary and arguably a worse position than sitting in one of the chair ends like it was designed for, but it felt selfish and luxurious to claim the whole sofa for myself, and there was a simple joy in such an act.

I got my show going and settled in with a throw pillow under my head. The room was dark except for the tv. When the rest of the house was quiet, I was alone in my own void of decadent solitude.

"What'cha watching?"

The light flipped on as my brother walked in the room. I rolled my eyes and repressed a sigh. Fucking Denver, always ruining metaphorical royal prisons and shit.

"Shh," I said. "I'm busy."

Denver came closer, then unceremoniously picked up my legs and sat under them. I let my legs fall right back onto his lap where they'd been.

"Gilmore Girls, right?" he said. "Haven't you seen it all yet? I remember you talking about this show, like... five years ago? Six?"

"Something like that. And yes, I have seen it before. And no, that doesn't mean you can interrupt whenever you want."

Denver shut up for a few minutes. I ignored his presence and let my mind get back into the flow of the show. That worked for a while.

"Why do they talk so fast?"

"'Cause they do."

"Fair enough."

Denver scratched an itch, then rested his hand on my calf when it came back down. Technically, according to my Arbitrary Rules of Nighttime Couch Sitting, my brother had already committed two or three violations of personal space. Unlike when everyone was up and doing awake-type things, I felt entitled to taking as much space as I could physically claim. Usually it worked because no one else was around to contest it, which makes for the best kind of rule in many ways.

So far Denver was behaving himself sufficiently for me not to have to decree him banned from sitting next to me and/or summarily executed. It was a closer thing than he realized, though, as proven by his next statement moments later.

"I can see your panties, you know."

"Fuck's sake, Den. I said shut up."

"Actually, you didn't specifically--"

"Fine, I'm saying it now. Shut up."

"Sure."

Denver wiggled down a little further in his seat. My legs wiggled with him. I resisted the urge to check on or adjust my sleep shirt. What was he doing looking at my panties anyway?

I glanced at my brother. By all appearances he was focused entirely on the show. He smiled frequently, and was even starting to chuckle at parts. At least he was enjoying the show. He wasn't a total philistine.

"Den?"

"Yeah?"

"Why were you looking at my butt?"

Denver gave me a lopsided smile. "I wasn't. But your shirt isn't covering it." He reached over and tugged my hemline back into place. "And your panties were kinda... y'know, like, a little wedged in there."

"You wouldn't know that if you weren't looking. A good brother wouldn't have stared long enough to see that much detail."

"True. But a good sister wouldn't have given me the chance."

I pulled one of my feet back and jabbed it into Denver's side just hard enough to hurt. He flinched back and moved his arm to block any potential second strike.

"I was in here minding my own business. It's not my fault you had to show up and start perving on me."

"Wasn't even. If I ever perv on you, you'll know it."

"That's not nearly as reassuring as you seem to think it is."

Denver nodded easily. "Maybe not." He reached over and tugged at my shirt again. My kick must have disturbed it. "Maybe it'll teach you some modesty though."

"Ha. This from the boy who barges in on me while I'm in the bathroom."

"Ok, that's... possibly a fair point."

"Damn right it is."

I went back to watching my show. Or at least I mostly did. Every now and then I checked on my brother to make sure he was watching the tv and not me. Usually he was. Once or twice I caught his eye and he lifted an eyebrow, but I declined to engage him.

The episode ended shortly after. This time I looked at Denver in search of a reaction to the show. He'd sat through the rest of it once he sat down, so I was cautiously optimistic.

"That was pretty ok," he said.

"Just ok?"

"Well... I dunno. I didn't understand some of it, and... are the two main girls always so whimsical?"

"Lorelai and Rory? Basically, yeah. That's their thing."

"And the older one's the mom?"

I snorted. "Maybe we should start you at the beginning next time you watch."

"Sure."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Why not? It's, like, kinda funny and quirky and stuff. I wouldn't mind checking out some more."

I felt a warm glow inside. Denver was actually into something I enjoyed, at least tentatively. That didn't happen often. My shows were too girly for him, his games were too shoot-people-in-the-face for me. Happy mediums were sneaky unicorns in our lives.

"I will be happy to indoctrinate you," I assured him.

"Cool. You up for another episode?"

"Now?"

"Yeah."

"It's pretty late."

"Very astute."

I bit my lip and thought it over. I had school tomorrow, and Denver probably had some college classes too. He wasn't worried, but then he almost certainly started later in the day than me. Still, one more episode wouldn't spell disaster, and my brother's eagerness might fade if I didn't get him hooked while I had the chance.

"Ok," I said. "You find episode one, I'm gonna go get a drink since we're already staying up late and being bad little chilluns."

"Sounds good. Get me one too?"

I hopped off the couch, but stopped and raised my eyebrow. I waited expectantly.

"Please?" Denver added.

"Sure. Rum?"

"Yes, thanks."

I lightly raided our parents' liquor cabinet and poured a couple fingers of rum for Denver, then scotch for myself. I'd never technically asked if it was ok, but I didn't do it frequently, and neither Mom or Dad ever said anything about their bottles being slightly emptier than they should be. They poured me a little on special occasions, and that was kind of like permission. In a way. Maybe.

"Your drink, sir," I said as I passed Denver his glass.

"Why thank you, sister dearest."

I set my glass on the end table by the side of the couch Denver wasn't occupying. This time I opted for actually sitting up properly, more or less. Denver had reclined on his end, and I pulled up my footstool as well. I tucked my feet up under my butt reflexively, which kind of defeated the purpose.

"Ready?" Denver asked.

"Yep."

He started the first episode playing. I took a sip of scotch and followed the warmth as it trickled down to my tummy. Dad had such excellent taste in booze.

I'd seen the first episode several times by now, and the last time hadn't really been that long ago. I was happy enough to see it again, but my familiarity with it meant that my attention could wander without me really missing anything. Part of my time was spent checking on Denver and making sure he was enjoying himself, which he seemed to be. Another part was spent analyzing myself.

I was propped up somewhat on my hip with my legs curled up on the opposite side. It was hard to say if my brother had any kind of sight line under my shirt like he'd had before. Probably he wouldn't even look anyway. It had to have just been an accidental glance before, and a lack of vocal filter that made him say anything about it.

"She's pretty hot," Denver said.

I looked back at the screen, slightly startled as my thoughts were interrupted. "What?"

"The mom."

"Lorelai?"

"Yeah. She's pretty hot, don't you think?"

"Oh don't even."

"I'm just--"

"I don't care what you're 'just,' don't do it. Don't bring the show down with your stupid boy-ness."

Denver chuckled. "Sorry to disappoint, sis. I'm a boy, and I'll basically always be one."

"You don't have to be so obvious about it."

Denver cleared his throat. "I'll try not to," he declared in a horrible falsetto. "I will do my very best to--"

I yanked my throw pillow out from between me and my arm rest. I swung it with all my might in a perfect arc, catching Denver square in the face. It made a satisfying 'wumph' as it hit him. He just laughed, but at least he stopped talking. The rest of the episode passed in relative silence, with only the occasional chuckle from my brother.

"So what'd you think?" I asked. "Other than wanting to bang every female who came on screen."

"Not every female. Just the hot mom. Total milf, dude. Seriously."

"You're gross as fuck sometimes."

"Only sometimes? That's practically a compliment." Denver stood up and stretched. "For real though, I think I like it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So you wanna watch more some time?"

"Uh huh. Maybe not tonight though."

"No shit. I'm gonna be hurting for sleep as it is."

I turned everything off, then padded toward the hallway. Denver followed along behind, and I had to resist the urge to see if he was checking out my butt. One little comment had me way too paranoid. He'd be quite amused if he knew.

Denver's room was in the basement. It was bigger than mine, and apparently stayed a heavenly temperature when it got super hot out in the summer, but given the amount of junk and half-finished walls he shared his floor with, I'd never begrudged him those minor luxuries.

"Night, Den," I said before we parted.

"See ya in the morning, Relly."

"If you're up in time."

"See ya tomorrow evening, then."

"Figured."

On impulse, I leaned in and gave my brother a quick hug. He hugged me back, but the whole thing lasted only a second or two. Just enough to display the requisite familial affection for a pair of siblings. I wasn't sure why I craved that brief contact, but it felt nice.

Denver didn't move at first when I turned away. I was only a few steps beyond him when he spoke up again.

"I like that colour on you," he said.

I jolted to a stop and whirled toward him. He was already disappearing downstairs. He meant my shirt, right? Or my earrings maybe, but that was a stretch.

I craned my neck around, desperately trying to get a look at my own butt. My shirt seemed to ride up in the back more than I'd realized. If I moved just right, I decided Denver probably could have seen just a flash of my panties while I was walking. Fuck. Time to retire a nightshirt.

****

My parents were already at the breakfast table when I got there the next morning. There was no sign of Denver, which was only to be expected.

"Morning, sweetie," Mom said. "Tea or coffee?'

"I'll have coffee if there's some made," I said. "I could use some caffeine."

"That's my girl," Dad said with a wry smile. His ritualistic morning coffee was practically a law of nature.

I popped two slices of bread into the toaster, then stood next to it waiting for it to pop. Mom handed me a steaming mug, which I accepted gratefully.

"Do you suppose your brother will be joining us?" Mom asked.

I shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. Depends on when his classes start, probably."

"He shouldn't sleep through breakfast. It's not healthy."

"The great thing about breakfast is you can eat it whenever you wake up."

"That's disruptive for your digestion. You really should be eating regular meals."

"Very sensible," I agreed, perhaps a little too glibly.

Dad cleared his throat. "Don't be sarcastic with your mother. Not this early in the day."

"Wasn't sarcasm. It was just...." I trailed off. Dad was giving me a Look. "No sarcasm. Got it."

My toast popped. I slapped the two slices on a plate in the traditional burning-my-fingers-on-hot-toast manner, then applied the correct amount of butter in an even spread. The first bite was crunchy, greasy perfection. Whatever my skills may have lacked in other areas, boy could I make toast.

"Maybe I need to start waking Denver up in the morning," Mom said. She sat at the table opposite from Dad, cup of tea cradled in her hands, and a very healthful half-eaten bowl of 30-billion grain porridge in front of her. I'd never figured out how she stomached it, especially with the abysmally small amount of sugar she cut it with. "Being a college boy is no excuse for sleeping in every day."

"I believe it's the main appeal, actually," I said.

Both of my parents turned toward me. Mom was unamused. Dad seemed haplessly resigned to my unintentional antagonism of her current vendetta against sloth.

"Esmeralda Adams!"

I winced at the sound of my full name.

"That is exactly the kind of off-hand remark that leads to poor social and academic performance," Mom continued. "You and your brother are so--"

"I should go wake him up," I interrupted. "You've convinced me, I am converted. Allow me to repent my sinful ways."

I took another quick gulp of coffee, enough to singe my tongue, and grabbed my half-finished slice of toast. I abandoned the other to inevitable cooling and inedibleness. Alas poor breakfast, ye died too young.

Mom was thrown sufficiently off-balance that she didn't challenge my obvious ploy to get away from her lecturing. Dad hid a grin behind his coffee mug. I kissed Mom's cheek on the way by, mostly because it tended to mollify her even at the worst of times. Then I was heading downstairs and away from the danger of learning what was good for me.

The area at the immediate bottom of the stairs was in tidy order. The floor was clean and clear between there and Denver's room, with even a small bathroom along the way.

There was the hum of the family's big chest freezer in the other direction, and beyond that was an absolute disaster of half-finished flooring, walls, and insulation. An awful lot of items had been put in storage wherever there was space, as well. Every box of junk, old piece of sports equipment, or bag of clothes was another nail in the coffin of the dream of a fully livable basement.

I ignored the debris and beelined for Denver's room. His door was closed, and I gave it a courtesy knock before entering, just as a formality. I didn't expect my brother to be awake yet, and indeed he wasn't. I finished the last bite of my toast and wiped my hands off on my pants. It was time for a bit of mischief.

Slowly, delicately, I crawled onto Denver's bed. I managed to straddle him with my hands on either side of his head without disturbing him. He was blissfully unaware of my face positioned just above his.

"Deeenveeerrr," I called at the softest of volumes. "Deeeeeeennnveeerrrrr."

After a few repetitions, his brow crinkled slightly. His eyes cracked open, then he jerked awake in a sudden fit of panic that dissolved a few seconds later.

"Goddammit, Relly." Denver pushed me off him, and I fell to my side giggling happily. "What the hell time is it?"

"Time to get up," I informed him. "It's very unhealthy to lie around in bed all day. You need your breakfast. You're a growing boy with--"

"Oh fuck, Mom read an article again, didn't she?"

"Seems that way." I frowned. "And she used my full name, even. Skipping breakfast must cause cancer or something, 'cause she's super serious about it."

"Aw, I'm sorry."

I shook it off. "That's ok. At least I get to come bug you first thing in the morning, and you can't even get pissy about it."

"Try me."

I adopted a deliberately annoying whine. "Mooommm, Denver's being meeeaaannn. I just did what you saaaiiiddd."

"Alright, alright. There's no need for tattling."

"That's what I thought."

I sat on the edge of Denver's bed with one of my legs tucked up under me. He sat up, but made no further move to get out of bed.

"Come on, man," I said. "I can't go back without you in tow."

"You can too. Tell Mom I'll be right there."

"S'ok. I got time. I can wait for you."

"Coward."

"Not cowardice. I'm just being tactical. I believe it was Sun Tzu who said, 'Bitch, get yourself dressed and be my human shield.'"

Denver snorted in amusement. "Truly a wise man in the ways of war."

"Yeah he was. Now come on."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Just... give me some privacy, would you?"

"Why? Are you naked under your blanket or something?"

"No. I got boxers on."

I rolled my eyes. "So what, then? Embarrassed about me seeing you in your underwear? That's kinda weak after you were perving on mine last night."

Denver stabbed a finger at me. "First off, you were the one showing off your underwear. It's not like I went looking for it."

I was torn between amusement at Denver's defensiveness, and chagrin at being reminded that it was kind of my own fault if he'd been able to see under my nightshirt. He hadn't actually denied the accusation of perving either, which was a whole other set of complications.

"That's irrelevant right now," I said with a casual flip of my hair.

"Maybe. Secondly... it's got nothing to do with how I'm dressed. Not directly, anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Denver sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. "Relly, you know boys, right?"

"I've heard of them, yes."

"And you know what sometimes happens to them?"

"You'll have to be more specific."

"In the morning...."

"They get hungry? They need to piss? They... oh. Ooohhh." My eyes widened and my eyebrows shot straight up. "You mean...."