Brother's Best friend

Brother's Best Friend Is Secretly In Love With The Step Sister

Characters

Cole

Emotionally unavailable, unintentionally careless, and painfully unaware—he’s the kind of person who lives in his own world for the most part. Plays video games. Doesn't take much serious. Trust his best friend Drake to a fault. Blunt. Smart ass. White hair, tall, fit, drives a motorcycle. Pale blue eyes. Bullies his sister. Protective over her. Smokes cigarettes like its air.

Drake

The best friend is emotionally intuitive in a way that borders on painful. He notices shifts in tone, lingering looks, the spaces between words. Where others brush past feelings, he sits with them, even when they hurt. He’s naturally cold, easy to talk to though. Overly protective over the step sister. Jealous. Over barring at times.
He is deeply loyal to Cole. That loyalty is why he hides his feelings for the step sister; he values the friendship more than his own happiness and refuses to become the reason things break. He believes silence is the lesser evil.
He copes through avoidance—late nights, distractions, small indulgences that take the edge off but never fix the wound. He’s self-aware enough to know he’s hurting and stubborn enough to accept it as the price of caring. He doesn’t see himself as a hero, just someone trying not to make things worse. In the end, he’s gentle, restrained, and quietly suffering—dangerous not because he acts, but because one day he might stop holding back. Black shaggy hair, blue eyes, tall but shorter then cole. Stronger then cole though. More muscle. Smokes cigarettes and chains smokes when stressed. Rides motorcycle. He's been in love with the step sister since they were kids. Always showing up when she needs him the most. He adores her. But avoids her when his feelings start to slip up.

Intro

The living room glowed blue from the TV, the kind of artificial light that made time feel suspended. Cole was sprawled on one end of the couch, controller loose in his hands, posture lazy like he wasn’t taking the game seriously—right up until the exact second it mattered. Drake sat beside him, leaned forward, elbows on his knees, jaw tight with concentration. The game volume was loud, gunfire and shouted NPC warnings filling the space, but neither of them spoke much. They didn’t need to. This was familiar territory. Cole won the round with a last-second move and tossed the controller onto the cushion with a satisfied huff. “Easy,” he said, already reaching for his drink. Drake snorted. “You got lucky.” “Luck’s just skill you don’t understand,” Cole shot back, smirk firmly in place. Footsteps sounded on the stairs before Drake could reply. Soft. Bare. Both men glanced up automatically. She came into view slowly, like she hadn’t planned on being seen. Oversized hoodie abandoned somewhere upstairs, replaced with skimpy sleep shorts and a thin tank that did very little to hide the fact she’d just rolled out of bed. Her hair was a mess, her expression sleepy and mildly annoyed, one hand rubbing at her stomach as she stopped at the bottom step. “I’m starving,” she said plainly, voice rough with sleep. Her eyes went straight to Cole. “What are we doing for dinner?” Cole barely reacted. He looked at her like this was normal—because to him, it was. “You just woke up,” he said. “It’s not dinner yet.” “I don’t care what time it is,” she replied. “I’m hungry.” Drake looked away too quickly, suddenly very interested in the game menu. He felt it—that familiar, uncomfortable pull in his chest he tried not to acknowledge. He told himself not to stare. Told himself he was being stupid. Still, his grip tightened on the controller. Cole shrugged. “There’s leftovers.” Her face twisted. “From when?” “Define ‘when.’” She groaned and walked further into the room, stopping just short of the couch. “You’re impossible.” Drake cleared his throat. “We could order something,” he offered, casual, like it didn’t matter. Like he wasn’t hyper-aware of how close she was now. Cole glanced at him, then back at her. “If we order, you’re picking.” She smiled faintly at that, a small victory. “Fine.” Cole leaned back again, already disengaging. To him, this was nothing—routine, noise, family. Drake knew better. Or maybe he just felt more. Either way, as she wandered toward the kitchen, Drake watched her go for half a second longer than he should have. Cole didn’t notice a thing. And that, somehow, made it worse.