This is my first submission, and my first story ever. I'd like to thank LadyCibelle for editing this for me. You were a great help.
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Genetic sexual attraction (GSA) is sexual attraction between close relatives, such as a brother and sister, who first meet as adults.
This situation can occur as a consequence of adoption, where the adopted children discover their true ancestry, and seek out relatives. Although this is a rare consequence of adoptive reunions, the large number of adoptive reunions in recent years means that this is happening to a significant number of people. It is generally highly distressing to both parties, as this sexual attraction is contrary to their socialized sexual and moral structures, as well as to the legal structure of society.
The theory is that close relatives, because of their genetics, may be genetically predisposed toward the same interests and have highly compatible personalities. This makes relatives who meet later in life more likely to find each other attractive than two random people would. (From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.)
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The clock read eleven-thirty, and in half an hour, his birthday would be over. Zachary turned the half-empty bottle between his index finger and thumb. It was still only his first bottle that evening, even though he'd been sitting there for hours. He hadn't done much at all for his birthday, though he did go into a bar
legally
for the first time. He hadn't called up his friends, or thrown a big party. Hell, he didn't even let his old man get him a birthday cake.
There was just something about this year that he felt didn't make it worth celebrating, though he had actually dressed for it. His short brown hair was brushed, though that rarely made any difference as his hair was always a little untidy looking. He had on a pair of blue jeans that were just about the same shade of blue as his eyes, and a pair of sturdy hiking boots. His black winter coat hung by the door (it was a small bar - no one ever stole anything). He had on a long-sleeved, dark blue, button-down shirt, hanging open over a black t-shirt.
Zachary heard the bell on top of the door jingle, indicating that someone had come in from outside. He wondered if he should even bother glancing, but after he did, he was certainly glad he made the effort. There, in the doorway, stood the most beautiful young woman he'd ever seen. She had shoulder-length, medium-brown hair, blue eyes, and the body of a gymnast. He couldn't take his eyes off her. Her cheeks were rosy from being outside in the cold air, and she was standing there in front of the door, brushing the snow from her hair.
She certainly didn't look prepared for winter weather. She had on a very tight pair of low-rise, dark blue jeans, which didn't look like they kept the heat in very well. She had what looked like a purple t-shirt underneath a black coat. He wondered what she was doing dressed that way in winter. She didn't even have warm footwear, just a pair of sneakers and what looked like ankle socks.
He would have introduced himself to her, had Clay not walked up to her from behind.
"Here... Let me warm that little body of yours up with a drink, honey," he said, putting his arm around her and leading her to his table. Zachary's blood burned. He saw Clay in here getting another girl drunk every time he was here. Everyone suspected him of being a rapist, but none of the girls ever said anything. It could have been because they were scared, but no one knew for sure. Zachary didn't normally care when he saw Clay with another random woman, but there was something about this girl that was different.
Zack watched as Clay sat her down at his usual table and offer her a beer. She took a quick drink and set it back on the table before Clay whispered something in her ear.
"Ça ne m'intéresse pas," Zack heard her say. He wasn't very fluent in French, but he could tell that she wasn't very fond of Clay just by the look on her face and the tone of her notably beautiful voice. He felt his blood boil again. He didn't want to see this one get taken advantage of by Clay. There was something about her that made him want to protect her from everything and everyone.
Clay only grinned and leaned in as if he was going to kiss her. She backed away and said "Non! Laissez-moi tranquille!" Her voice was louder than it was before. Zachary still didn't quite understand her words, but he knew she was not pleased. Clay grabbed the girl by the arm and she yelled at him, "
Fuck off!
" in plain English.
Zack knew full well what that meant, and he wasn't going to let Clay carry on any longer. He stood up and walked over. He wasn't hurrying, but any who looked at him would know where he was going.
"Get lost Clay," said Zack, straightening himself up to his full height, which admittedly wasn't much. He was maybe about five-foot-six or seven. Clay looked up at him.
"What did you say?"
"I said get lost! Leave the girl alone. It's quite clear by the way she's acting that she wants nothing to do with you. Go back to the pit you crawled out of." Zachary glanced over at her, and could see she was scared. Her blue eyes were welling up with tears.
Clay stood up from the table and straightened up. He was about a half a foot taller than Zachary, but that didn't frighten him. The only thing on Zack's mind was the girl, and protecting her at any cost.
"Why don't you mind your own business!" Clay said, clearly very angry.
"You wanna leave here limping, Clay?"
Clay swung with his right fist. Zack tried to move, but it clipped the side of his face. It was at that point that Zachary realized Clay was wearing a lot of metal on his hands.
Determination focusing him, he came back and hit Clay square in the jaw with his left hand, and Clay staggered backwards, clearly unused to people fighting him back.
"Fuck you!" Clay said angrily, storming past Zachary and out of the bar.
Zack let out a deep breath, and looked over at the girl. She seemed very relieved, and he smiled warmly at her.
"Sorry about him." He said, slowly sitting down across from her.
"You are hurt!" She came over to sit next to him, putting a hand to Zachary's face.
"It's not so bad." he said. It was the truth. His hand hurt more than the little scrape on his face did. When he brought up his hand to look at it, the girl gasped. He had busted open his knuckle, presumably on one of Clay's teeth.
The blue-eyed girl reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a baby-blue handkerchief. She tied it around his hand, making the knot in his palm.
"My knight in shining armor," she said, giggling softly, blushing and smiling at him. Her voice was colored by a beautiful French accent. "I will have to stick close to you so you can protect me from all the bad guys."
He laughed. "What's your name?"
