Under the same roof
1106 Words
Eric had never wanted a brother.
He especially hadn’t wanted a stepbrother who looked like he belonged on the cover of some glossy magazine—tall, sharp-jawed, with dark hair that always fell into his eyes and a quiet intensity that made people step aside when he walked past. Eugene moved like he owned every room he entered, even when he was trying not to.
Their parents had gotten married three months ago in a small ceremony that felt more like a business deal than a romance. Eric’s mother, a human woman who still didn’t know the full truth about the world she had married into, had fallen hard for Eugene’s father—an alpha werewolf with old money, old power, and a pack that stretched across half the state. Overnight, Eric went from living alone in a quiet apartment near campus to sharing a massive house on the edge of the forest with a man only two years older than him who barely spoke more than five words at a time.
Eugene was twenty-three. Eric was twenty-one. Close enough in age that the word “stepbrother” felt like a joke the universe was playing on both of them.
The house was too big. Too quiet. Too full of the scent of pine, rain, and something warmer that clung to Eugene’s skin no matter how many showers he took. Eric had started noticing it the first week—the way his wolf, still young and restless, would stir every time Eugene walked past. It was annoying. Distracting. Dangerous.
That night, the full moon was only four days away. The air already felt heavier.
Eric was in the kitchen past midnight, leaning against the counter in nothing but low-slung sweatpants, eating cold leftover pizza straight from the box. The lights were off except for the soft glow under the cabinets. He heard the soft pad of bare feet on the hardwood before he saw him.
Eugene appeared in the doorway, hair damp from a late shower, wearing a black T-shirt that clung to his chest and dark gray sweatpants. His amber eyes caught the low light and reflected it for half a second—wolf eyes, even in human form.
“You’re still up,” Eugene said. His voice was low, rough, like he hadn’t used it much that day.
Eric swallowed the bite he’d been chewing. “Couldn’t sleep. Moon’s getting closer. You know how it is.”
Eugene stepped into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and pulled out a bottle of water. He didn’t look at Eric right away. “Your wolf’s been loud lately.”
Eric’s fingers tightened on the pizza box. “Yours hasn’t?”
“Mine’s always loud around you.”
The words landed heavier than they should have. Eric’s pulse jumped. He forced a short laugh that didn’t sound natural. “That supposed to be a compliment?”
Eugene finally turned, leaning back against the opposite counter. The space between them felt smaller than it was. “It’s a fact. You smell like rain and something sweet. My wolf doesn’t know what to do with it.”
Eric’s mouth went dry. He set the pizza box down carefully. “We’re stepbrothers.”
“I know.”
“Our parents are married.”
“I know that too.”
Silence stretched. Outside, the wind moved through the trees, carrying the distant sound of something howling far off in the pack’s territory. Eric could feel his own wolf pressing against his skin, restless and curious. Eugene’s scent was stronger now—clean soap, pine, and underneath it the darker, richer note of an alpha who hadn’t fully settled since the wedding.
Eric cleared his throat. “Why’d you even agree to move in here? You had your own place.”
Eugene took a slow drink of water, then set the bottle down. “Dad wanted us under one roof before the pack gathering next month. Said it would look better. Stronger family unit.” His mouth twisted slightly. “Politics.”
“And you just… went along with it?”
“I don’t fight every battle.” Eugene’s gaze drifted over Eric’s bare chest for a second too long before he looked away. “Besides. It’s not so bad. The forest is right there. I can run when I need to.”
Eric pushed off the counter and took a few steps closer without meaning to. The air between them felt charged. “You’ve been running a lot. Every night almost.”
“Keeps me from doing something stupid.”
Eric’s heart kicked hard against his ribs. “Like what?”
Eugene’s eyes met his again. For a moment neither of them spoke. The kitchen light caught the faint scar along Eugene’s collarbone—old, silvered, from a fight years ago. Eric had noticed it the first time they’d been forced to share a bathroom after a pack run. He’d stared too long then too.
“You should go to bed,” Eugene said quietly. “Moon’s close. You’ll need the energy.”
Eric didn’t move. “You first.”
Something flickered in Eugene’s expression—amusement, frustration, heat. He pushed off the counter and walked past Eric toward the hallway. Their shoulders brushed. Just barely. Just enough for Eric to feel the heat of him and the way Eugene’s breath hitched for half a second.
At the doorway, Eugene stopped. He didn’t turn around.
“Lock your door tonight,” he said. His voice was rougher now. “My control’s been s**t lately. I don’t want to test it.”
Then he was gone, footsteps fading up the stairs.
Eric stood alone in the dark kitchen, pulse hammering, wolf pacing under his skin. The leftover pizza sat forgotten on the counter. Outside, the wind picked up, carrying the scent of the coming full moon and something else—something that smelled a lot like trouble.
He didn’t lock his door.
He lay awake for a long time listening to the quiet house, wondering if Eugene was doing the same thing on the other side of the wall. Wondering what would happen when the moon finally rose and neither of them could pretend the tension between them was just pack instinct anymore.
Four days.
Eric closed his eyes and tried not to think about amber eyes in the dark, or the way Eugene had looked at him like he was already halfway gone.
Sleep didn’t come easy.
And somewhere down the hall, a low, frustrated growl rumbled through the walls—too quiet for human ears, but Eric heard it just fine.
- Writer
