Back at the house, I slowly crept along the wall near the entrance, making my way to my bedroom. The curtains were still drawn. I quietly opened the window, pulled the curtains aside bit by bit, and peeked inside—but Sam wasn't there. He must have already gotten up.
If Sam wasn't in the bedroom, maybe he was in the living room? I crouched down and moved toward the living room, peering in from outside. It was quiet, with no one talking and the TV turned off.
That's strange, where did Sam go?
I had to give up my plan to scare him and went in through the front door instead.
After putting the ball in the bedroom, I felt a bit thirsty from being out for so long and headed to the living room. From upstairs came the "humming..." sound of the washing machine spinning.
It seemed Mom was already up and doing chores, but Sam was nowhere to be found.
I drank a glass of water in the living room and went upstairs, thinking Sam might be helping Mom with the housework.
"Mom, where's Sam?" I reached the second floor but didn't see Mom—she was probably in the laundry room.
"Zihan, I'm here," Sam said, emerging from the laundry room wearing his black tank top and white shorts.
"Sam, I bought the ball," I told him as I walked over.
"Great, we'll play ball this afternoon," Sam looked at me.
"Okay," I reached the laundry room door and saw Mom with her long hair tied up in a bun at the back, held in place by a purple hair clip. She was slightly bent over, her back to me, pulling clothes out of the washing machine.
Mom was wearing a sleeveless, high-necked light green knit top and a white pencil skirt, with a yellow-and-white checkered apron tied around her waist. Her snow-white, glowing legs peeked out from beneath the skirt, and she wore a pair of pink summer slippers on her delicate feet.
"Mom, do you have a lot of laundry? Do you need help?" I called out to her.
"No need, you two go play. I'll come down to make lunch after I'm done," Mom turned to look at me, her eyes full of tenderness, her cheeks slightly flushed.
"Alright, Sam, let's go," I said to Sam.
"Mm, Mom, is there anything else I can help with?" Sam glanced back at Mom.
"No, go on down," Mom replied without turning around.
"Come on, Mom said it's fine," I rolled my eyes at Sam. No need to suck up to Mom like that.
"Hehe, okay, let me see what kind of basketball you bought," Sam came over, slinging an arm around my neck, and we headed downstairs.
Did Sam spray perfume this morning? There's a faint scent...
I glanced at him. He wouldn't have some weird smell he's trying to cover up with perfume, would he?
But probably not—the scent was very light, and I felt like I'd smelled it somewhere before.
"It's just a regular basketball, nothing special," I rolled my eyes at him again.
"Hehe, of course it's special—my Zihan went out and bought it himself!" Sam said.
"..." I was speechless.
"...You damn gay... get away from me," I pushed Sam away, but he still held me tightly.
No use—this "damn n-word" was too strong, and I couldn't break free from his grip.
"Hahaha..." Sam laughed heartily, his pale lips parting wide.
Mom came downstairs and made lunch for us. Of course, Sam and I helped with washing and chopping vegetables—Dad had told us to take good care of Mom.
While cooking, even though I tried not to look at Mom's chest, it was just too big, pushing against the apron and creating a noticeable bulge. From the side, her breasts hung within the light green knit top, round and full, like drops of water falling into my hands.
Ugh... what am I thinking? That's Mom!
One thing that made my heart ache again was during lunch when Mom took off her apron. Sitting across from her, as I picked up food with my chopsticks, I inadvertently glanced at her chest once more. Her round, full breasts stood out prominently beneath her light green sleeveless knit top, with two peanut-sized protrusions visible on the front of the shirt. Though I couldn't tell whether Mom was intentionally or unintentionally leaning forward while eating, those two protrusions undeniably caught my eye again.
My first thought was that Mom wasn't wearing a bra. I was startled and glanced at Sam beside me, who was eating with relish and occasionally laughing at the TV in front of us. This put me somewhat at ease.
Mom really is something. Though not wearing a bra at home might make her feel more relaxed, Sam and I are, after all, sixteen-year-old boys. But then again, in Mom's eyes, Sam and I have always been her little boys.
No matter what, I am Mom's child, and Sam is practically Mom's child too. As long as Mom is happy and content, I support her. With that thought, the knot in my heart dissolved.
In the afternoon, Sam taught me how to play basketball for hours, exhausting me to the point of near-collapse. It has to be said, basketball is a high-energy sport.
Despite the fatigue, I started to learn how to dribble, make moves past defenders, and even managed to steal the ball from Sam once. This made Sam's two large, round eyes—which stood out against his dark skin—widen in surprise.
Seeing his astonished expression filled me with immense satisfaction. Hmph! Sam, whatever you can do, I'll learn to do too!
After dinner, Mom and I coincidentally settled on the sofa, as a very thrilling movie was about to start soon.
Mom loves watching horror and thriller movies, and thanks to her genes, I've inherited the same interest. Sam initially claimed to have no interest in horror films but was dragged along by me to watch with Mom and me.
"Sam, turn off all the lights in the living room," I said to him.
"Okay, but why?" Sam turned off the lights and walked over, looking puzzled.
"Because it adds to the scary atmosphere, hehe," I replied.
"Uh… alright…" Sam reluctantly sat down next to Mom.
"It's starting, it's starting!" I grabbed the popcorn from the table, leaned slightly forward, and focused on the movie.
Mom sat quietly with her hands resting on her thighs, leaning back against the sofa, and began to concentrate on the movie as it started.
Halfway through the film, I noticed Mom's breathing quicken slightly as she leaned against the sofa. Hehe, I chuckled inwardly. That's just like Mom—easily scared yet obsessed with horror movies. If Sam weren't here, she'd probably be screaming in fear.
As for Sam, he didn't make a single sound.
"Ah…" A little while later, when the bloodied "protagonist" appeared on screen, Mom finally broke her silence and let out a soft gasp.
"Haha, Mom finally let out a scared gasp," I thought smugly to myself. But I had to save face for Mom. If I turned around to see her frightened expression, she'd surely feel embarrassed.
Mom truly embodies the saying, "scared yet obsessed." Well, there's nothing to be done about it, I thought with an inward smile.
Fortunately, Mom only let out that soft gasp and didn't make another sound afterward. Only the slightly hurried and heavy breathing from behind me served as proof of just how startled she had been.
A little while later, I noticed my mom's breathing growing heavier. I glanced back at her. In the dark living room, only the light from the TV screen illuminated the space. I saw her beautiful eyes wide open, fixed on the movie. At some point, she had draped an air-conditioning blanket over her thighs and stomach. Maybe she had asked Sam to pass it to her earlier, but I had been too absorbed in the movie to notice.
"Ha, Mom, are you scared?" I teased.
"..." Mom didn't reply. Instead, she shot me a glance before turning her attention back to the screen.
Hah, she definitely wouldn't admit she was scared. I chuckled to myself and turned back to the TV.
But in that split second, I caught a glimpse of Sam leaning against the sofa, right next to Mom. Was he scared too?
Seeing Sam like that only made me more satisfied. Heh, this level of horror isn't even close to what I can handle. What a wimp, Sam.
I focused intently on the movie again. After a while, I heard a strange "snap" sound from behind me.
It sounded like an elastic waistband being pulled and then snapping back against skin. What was Sam up to?
I looked back at Sam and saw one of his dark hands scratching an itch on his stomach. No wonder I heard that sound.
Honestly, Sam, couldn't he be more gentlemanly with Mom right beside him?
"Sam, want some?" To explain why I had turned around, I leaned past Mom and offered him the popcorn bucket.
"No, thanks, Zihan," Sam replied, still scratching his hip. It must have been really itchy.
"Okay," I nodded, glanced at Mom, and went back to watching the movie.
Strange, why was Mom's face so red? Was she too hot? The air conditioning wasn't on in the living room, and she even had an air-conditioning blanket over her legs. Weird.
"I'm going to the bathroom," Mom said after a while. She pushed herself up slowly, moved past Sam, and headed upstairs to the bathroom.
But there's a bathroom on the first floor too. Why did she go upstairs? Then again, it made sense—Sam and I usually used the first-floor one, so Mom probably preferred going upstairs.
As Mom stood up, a faint, captivating fragrance wafted toward me. It wasn't perfume, but something delicate and soothing.
Still, that subtle scent felt familiar. The adrenaline from the horror movie made it hard to recall where I'd smelled it before.
I kept watching the movie, while Sam sat beside me, grinning as he followed along. Mom didn't come back downstairs until the film was almost over.
"Alright, you two should go shower and get to bed. I'm going to clean up and rest too," Mom said without turning on the living room lights. After speaking, she turned and headed upstairs.
"Okay, goodnight, Mom," I said.
"Goodnight, Mom," Sam echoed.
After the movie ended, I turned on the lights. Sam started cleaning up the snacks on the table, while I went back to my seat to pick up the popcorn that had fallen on the carpet. As I folded the air-conditioning blanket Mom had used, I noticed a short, curly, dark hair lying on the light gray sofa—right where Mom and Sam had been sitting.
I furrowed my brows—was this Sam's leg hair or armpit hair? I shot a glare at Sam, who was tidying up the table, picked up the curly strand, and tossed it into the trash.
After we finished cleaning up, we turned off the TV. I went to take a shower while Sam headed back to the bedroom. Ever since Sam started staying at my place, he had never showered first, always letting me go ahead. This had definitely increased my fondness for him.
Playing basketball today left me utterly exhausted. Even after watching a thrilling horror movie, my body still felt weary. I spent a long time under the hot shower in the bathroom, lathering myself with fragrant body wash, and finally felt much more refreshed.
Back in the bedroom, Sam was lying on the bed looking at his phone, wearing nothing but a pair of white underwear.
"Sam, go take a shower," I glanced at him, inadvertently catching sight of the bulge in his underwear. My eyes drifted to the modest mound below my own abdomen, and I suddenly felt a pang of inadequacy.
"Alright, I'm off to shower. Wait for me, Zihan. Love you~" Sam winked at me playfully, his dark brown skin making the gesture look utterly ridiculous.
"Get out of here, haha, stop being so gross," I threw a towel at him.
"Hahaha..." Sam grabbed a fresh pair of underwear and closed the door behind him as he left.
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