37 comments/ 44139 views/ 26 favorites For the Love of My Brother By: WoeIsMe A/N: This story is equal parts gay incest and non-con/reluctance/abuse. If either of these make you uncomfortable, don't read on. Also, this is pretty long. If you stick it out all the way to the end, I really appreciate it. If long stories aren't your thing, that's okay too. If people want a follow up story, I'll consider writing one. Anyway, enjoy! ***** The minivan smelled like sweat. The AC was broken, it had been dead for two years now, and my parents weren't the type to complain about such a small thing, so it stayed broken. The hot July sun was unforgiving, and even with the windows rolled down, there were still trails of sweat rolling down my forehead. I felt cramped. I was dying to stretch out my legs. With the just the four of us in the van, it wasn't so bad, but we had all our gear too. Our food, our bags, Dad's fishing equipment. It was a lot. And my brother and I were forced to sit next to each other, our sweaty legs bumping together all throughout the drive. I didn't mind it so much, but my brother did. He stared moodily out the car window, feeling the breeze on his face. He didn't say anything the entire drive. I felt so awkward, sitting next to him, my small body constantly bumping against his muscular one. Everyone else was happy to be going camping. I was looking forward to it. Getting away from work for a week, spending time out in the wilderness with my family. (I use the term "wilderness" loosely; we'd be staying in a cabin). It was exciting. It would be the final chapter of my old life. I'm an adult now. I just graduated from high school, and I would be starting university in the fall. My brother graduated university this last year, with an engineering degree. That was the entire reason for this whole trip. It was our last family vacation. My brother would be moving away next month; I'd be starting my life in school. We'd hardly see each other anymore. And I hate to admit it, but I was kind of glad for it. Glad that I wouldn't have to see my brother every day. I love him, more than I can say. But he doesn't care about me. I know that. I'm not too blind to see it. It's been this way for a long time. When I was a kid, up until I was about five or six, my brother and I were as close as could be. He's five years older than me, but it didn't matter to him. He'd sit and watch those terrible children's shows with me, and he'd put me to bed if my parents were out late - sometimes even if they were home. He'd tuck me in; sometimes he'd lay with me if I was too afraid to sleep on my own. We were inseparable. But then when I got to elementary school with him, everything changed. He became mean, harsh and unloving. It felt like the switch happened overnight. I didn't understand it. In high school, he was even worse. He'd torment me worse than anyone else at the school, and I got bullied by a lot of people. He'd spray paint words onto my locker, call me a fag. There were worse things. He was in Grade 12 when I was in Grade 8, so the bullying at school only lasted a year. But it was a painful time, and I remember it vividly. One day, after school, he waited outside with a bunch of his friends. There were I think three or four of them. I left the school around 4:30, after my theatre class was finished. No one else was around. Except them. My brother and his friends. I pretended that I didn't see them, kept my head down and didn't make eye contact. They waited until I had walked down a backstreet, a shortcut to get to my house. I didn't realize that they were following me. But all of a sudden, they had pulled me back, into their group, and they just started beating on me. I don't know why, but they did. And my brother led them on. He hit the hardest. When they were done with me, they left me there on the ground, bleeding. My brother looked down at me, kicked me in the ribs once more and told me to "toughen up". I stayed there for a while, on the ground, crying and bleeding. I called my dad's cell phone and he came and picked me up. I didn't tell him who it was. My father didn't ask. That was how my brother and I worked. I never told on him. I didn't want him getting in trouble, and besides, he knew something about me that I didn't want our parents to know. He had caught me. I was always so careful, but he had caught me. I was in my room, I thought I had locked the door, but I guess I forgot. I was flipping through the magazine, my cock growing steadily harder as I surfed through the pages. Finally, I settled on one. A gorgeous, muscular man was on his knees, looking adoringly up at his partner. The other man grinned down at him, his hand resting on the back of his lover's head, pushing him further down on his cock. I pulled my dick out of my pants quickly, eagerly. I spat on my hand before moving it to my prick, and I slowly began stroking myself. I was anxious, our parents raised us catholic. I knew they wouldn't really care about my masturbating, they weren't that strict, but if they found out I was gay... My breathing hitched. I imagined that I was the one on my knees, sucking the man's cock. I wondered what it tasted like, what it felt like. I imagined that he was being gentle with me, coaxing my head down his length with appreciation, moaning my name as I blew him. I was moments away from my peak when my door flew open. And there he was. Chad was staring at me, his eyes widened in shock. "No fucking way." He murmured, walking into my room and shutting the door behind him. My cock was still in my hand, and for a split second I had to think about what was more important to hide. My dick or the magazine. As my brother walked towards me, I quickly slid the magazine under my pillow. I know he'd already seen it, but maybe if he knew I was embarrassed, he'd let it go, and wouldn't look. "You might want to lock the door next time, idiot." Chad said, walking towards the bed. He looked so big, so imposing. I tucked my dick into my pants; my face was painted bright red. He cocked his eyebrow at me and then lunged for the pillow, trying to get the magazine. "What's little brother into, huh?" He growled, pushing me away. I tried to stop him, I tried to grab his arm and pull him away, but he was so much stronger than me, so much bigger than me. He was like a wall of meat, pure muscle from head to toe. I was more like a stick. He finally got hold of the magazine and looked at it. He flipped it open, looking at the pages of my gay porn magazine with disgust. "My brother's a fucking fag..." He chuckled, "Could've called it." "Please don't tell anyone!" I urged, looking up at his muscular frame. He rolled the magazine up into a tight bundle and smacked me on the side of the head with it. My head flew sideways, hitting the wall, and I groaned with pain. "You better watch yourself." He said, throwing the porn at me and leaving the room. The bullying got worse after that. But I still didn't know why it started in the first place. Maybe there wasn't a reason at all. "Alright kiddos, here we are!" My father said, as the minivan slowed and finally stopped. I looked out the front window at the log cabin. I was filled with nostalgia. I'd spent so many summers here; our family had made so many good memories at this cabin. I remember when I was younger, around five, Chad and I would go play in the river behind the cabin, and we'd look for bugs and fish. We never found anything, but it was still fun. Chad climbed out of the van first, anxious, I think, to be away from me. He popped open the trunk and grabbed his bag, and one of the coolers before heading into the house. I grabbed my bag and followed him anxiously. It smelled like summer. The light, feminine scent of flowers mingled with the familiar smell of pine. The air was clean here, woodsy. I breathed it in greedily. It made me feel warm, safe. The woods are like a second home to me, I've spent so many summer days exploring them. The cabin is a refuge, a place where all the harsh, homophobic bullies can't get to me. Well, almost all of them. The cabin has two bedrooms. So Chad and I would have to share. There was something about that idea that sort of excited me; there was another part of me that was petrified. I climbed up the wooden stairs with a tingling feeling in my stomach. Was it excitement? Anxiety? I didn't know. I was surprised when I walked into the bedroom, to find Chad undressing. He had thrown his shirt onto the floor, and he was slowly unzipping his shorts, pulling them down his toned body. My breath caught. I stood in the doorway, watching him. God, he's beautiful. When most people think of bullies they picture them as big walls of muscle, with an ugly, broad face. Chad isn't like that. Sure he's muscular, but he's tall and evenly proportioned. His face is gorgeous; he has defined features, and deep chocolate brown eyes. His hair is dirty blonde, and it's not long, but it isn't short either. I hadn't seen him without a shirt on in a long time, and it surprised me a little to see that his chest was hairless. Mine was too, so maybe it ran in the family. The sunlight shone through the cabin window and glinted off his gold cross, shining into my eyes. But I didn't look away, couldn't look away. Chad kicked off his shorts and was left in only his boxers. I wanted to keep looking. I wanted to see every part of him. I licked my lips in anticipation. "Dude, what the fuck? How long have you been standing there?" I looked, shocked, up into Chad's angry eyes. "Sorry, I-not long." I said hurriedly. "Fuck, Dylan, you're such a fag." He groaned, pushing past me to head towards the shower. With a guilty and disgusted conscious, I realized that I was upset that I hadn't got to finish watching him undress. *** The rest of the day was pretty relaxed. Mom and Dad left to go to the lake. Dad was anxious to go fishing and promised that we'd have fish for dinner. I hoped he wouldn't catch anything. Fish is disgusting. It's the only bad thing about going camping, really. Chad spent most of the day in our room, reading. I tried my best not to be in his space. I knew he didn't like it, so I stayed in the living room for most of the day, sketching. I liked to draw. It made me feel at peace. Chad got the brains and the brawns, I got the creativity. Too bad there's fuck all to do with that. I flipped open my sketchbook and ran my thumb over the dead white flower that was pressed between the first few pages. Then I shook my head and flipped to a blank page. I tried not to think too much when I was drawing. I just let my hand do the thinking. If I forced it, it wouldn't turn out well at all. But even though I tried not to think about what I was drawing, who I was drawing, I'd known at soon as I set the pencil to the paper, that it would be my brother staring back at me when I was finished. I drew him shirtless, turned away from me, like how I'd seen him earlier. It was a profile drawing. His hands were hooked underneath his shorts and he was pushing them down, but I could only see about an inch of his boxers. The sunlight was shining in through the window behind him. I drew on his cross, the one thing about him that never, ever changed. In the 18 years I'd been his brother, I'd never seen him without a cross around his neck. I always forgot to put mine on. I guess I just didn't feel connected to it. As I finished the drawing, adding the dark streaks to his dirty blonde hair, I could feel myself getting aroused. The more I thought about my brother, his naked chest, his legs, his lips, the harder I got. I needed to take care of myself. I debated for a few minutes. Tried to think it through. I'd known since I was young that I was attracted to Chad. It was hard not to be, even if he was a dick. There was something about him...something so... appealing? Sexy? Whatever it was, it was hard to resist. But he's my brother. And he's the biggest tool I've ever met. I wonder how big he is. God, I shouldn't be thinking about things like that. But I have before. I've thought about him before, when I jacked off. Was there really any harm in doing it again now? It's not like I would ever act on it- not like I could act on it, not with someone like Chad. Not with my brother. I tried to think about something else but every time I closed my eyes, he popped into my head. Fuck it. Our parents wouldn't be back for a while. Chad was upstairs. I could probably get away with it. I rubbed myself cautiously over my pants, massaging my hardening member as I stared at my brother's body. I exhaled shakily, unzipping my shorts slowly. I was half expecting someone to pop out of nowhere and catch me in the act. Just as I was about to pull my cock out from my pants, I heard a creaking on the stairs behind me. I zipped up quickly. I grabbed my sketch book and flipped it to a random page, grabbing my pencil. I pretended to be working. Chad walked up to the couch. He was eyeing me suspiciously. "Hey Chad." I said coolly, trying to seem nonchalant. My heart fluttered pathetically in my chest. "Hey." He still stared down at me. He looked like he was trying to decide something. He reached down quickly and grabbed the book from my hands. "Hey, give it back!" I said, reaching for it. He pushed me back against the couch with his free hand. "Stay." He commanded. I don't know why, but I listened to him and remained immobile against the couch. His brown eyes met mine and we stared at each other for a few seconds. His hand slowly slid down my chest, and onto my shorts. I swallowed thickly, not daring to look away from his eyes. His hand gripped my dick through my pants, and he fondled me. And it felt...so, so good. I shuddered, sucking in a deep breath. My eyes fluttered closed briefly. Chad chuckled. "You're hard." He laughed, pulling his hand way, "God, you're such a freak." He threw the book onto my stomach before walking away. I looked quickly down at the page it was opened to. It was a coloured portrait of my old science teacher, Mr. Hetherington. He was about sixty. I groaned and buried my head into my hands. Of course that's the page I would flip it to, of course. *** It was around ten when Chad went upstairs to go to sleep. I waited for an hour or so. I wanted him to be asleep when I got up there. I couldn't get him out of my mind. The way he'd touched me, so brief an interaction, but God, it sent fire shooting through my veins. My brother touched my cock. Sure there were two layers of clothing separating his hand and my dick, but still, he knew what he was doing, he did it deliberately. The door creaked open softly and I walked on the tips of my toes to my bed. I was nearly silent as I undressed, slipping off my shorts and t-shirt. I dropped them onto the floor in a pile on my side of the room. I climbed noiselessly into bed. The room was dark, except for the moonlight streaming in through the window. Chad's body rose and fell rhythmically; he gave no indication that he'd heard me come in. "Chad?" I whispered. No response. "Chad?" I said it at a normal volume. Still no response. He was asleep. I slowly pulled my briefs off; cautiously letting them fall to the side of my bed. Everything but my face was hidden under the covers. I looked over again at my brother's sleeping form. He's not awake, he's not awake. Calm down. I was anxious. I knew jacking off in the same room as my brother was risky. If he woke up and saw what I was doing, he'd murder me. But still, I hadn't had the opportunity all day, and I saw him naked, and he fondled my dick. How was I supposed to resist? I pushed the blankets off of me a little. My left side was exposed, so was my dick. I wanted to make sure that I wouldn't get anything on the blankets, because explaining that would be embarrassing. The blankets rustled on Chad's bed. I looked quickly over at him. He had rolled over, so he was facing me, but his eyes were still shut. His breathing was still regular. "Chad? You awake?" I asked. No response. Calm down. Calm down. I spit on my hand and finally gripped my cock. I was already semi-hard and it didn't take much encouragement for me to get all the way there. I relaxed into the pillow. My free hand fisted the blankets. I tried to let my mind take me where it wanted to go. After all, there's no harm in fantasizing, right? Chad slips quietly from his bed. He walks to my side of the room and stands by my head, watching me jerk myself. A small smile spreads across his lips and his deep brown eyes meet mine. Slowly, tantalizingly, he pulls off his shirt. "We have to be quiet." Chad breathes, hooking his thumbs underneath his pajama bottoms. I nod eagerly, watching intently as he reveals his large, fully hard cock. "Will you suck me off, little brother?" He asks earnestly, moving closer. I nod again. He smiles warmly down at me moving closer still, resting his knee on the bed. I prop myself up, onto my elbow and take him into my mouth. He groans softly as I take the head of his cock between my lips. "Good boy." He sighs appreciatively. His cock is large and warm. It feels amazing in my mouth. My tongue flicks over his length eagerly, tasting his smooth, salty skin. His hips rock gently back and forth, as he gently coaxes more of his length down my throat. We go faster, deeper. I can feel his balls slap against my chin as I blow him. Chad's moans are louder now, his hands curl in my hair, but he isn't rough. Everything feels good, everything is comfortable. He reluctantly pulls his dick from my mouth and he pants softly. "Can I suck your cock?" He asks. I grin, kicking the blankets off my body, revealing myself to him. He chuckles softly, moving between my legs. "Thought you'd be eager for it." He pulls my legs up, so they're resting on his shoulders and back. He lays outstretched on the bed, his feet dangling off the end. "I've wanted to do this for so long." Chad breathes, taking my dick in his hand. He strokes me a few times, before taking my dick between his full, pink lips. My fingers tousle his hair, and I whimper, as he deep throats my cock eagerly. He moans appreciatively around my length, grateful to have me inside his mouth. His fingertips dance across my hips, holding me steady as I try desperately to pump into his mouth. My hand matches the speed of Chad's mouth in my fantasy. My chest is glistening with sweat. I grip the blankets forcefully, knowing that my orgasm is just minutes away. "I want you to cum in my mouth, Dylan." Chad begs, before pushing his head down on me once more. "Oh, Chad." I breathe softly, my feet flexing. It was seconds now. "Please cum for me." Chad sucks my cock, his hands massage my balls. "Chad!" I moaned quietly as I came. I groaned and twitched as my cum shot up onto my flat stomach, some ropes traveling as far up as my chest. And then finally, my toes uncurl, my breathing normalizes, my heart steadies. I grabbed my discarded boxers and wiped away my load, before dropping them back onto the floor. I glanced over at my brother's form. He still seemed to be fast asleep. *** The next day, the four of us decided to go swimming. Our parents were really into making this a family vacation, which basically meant that we had to spend nearly every moment together. I didn't hate it. I like my parents, for the most part. They're religious, but not crazy religious. Religious enough to not love me as much if they found out I was gay, but not religious enough to kick me out or anything. At least... I don't think they would kick me out. It was probably better to just not tell them. "Hurry up!" Chad groaned, sinking onto his bed. He was wearing just a pair of swimming trunks. God, he's attractive. For the Love of My Brother "I just need to make sure I get everywhere." I replied, pouring more sunscreen onto my hand. I had gotten basically everywhere, except my back. I was too nervous to ask him to do it for me. I worked down my shoulder, making sure I rubbed it in so it was clear. "For fuck's sake." He said, grabbing the bottle from my hand. He turned me around and I shuddered when I felt the cool sunscreen hit my back. "Thank you." I said softly. His strong hands moved up and down my back quickly. It wasn't sensual, but to me it was enough. He never touched me gently, and this wasn't really rough, so I'd take it. "Why do you need to put this crap on, anyway? We're only going out for a couple hours." He said, his hands traveling up the back of my neck. "Skin cancer is on the rise, Chad." I said, "Have you put any on?" "No, but if I don't you're going to whine about it the whole day, aren't you?" He asked. I didn't whine, or at least I tried not to. But I nodded anyway, because I hoped he'd put some on. "Fuck. Fine. Here." He handed me the bottle and turned so his back was facing me. I poured a heavy amount into my hand and spread it across his back. He gave no reaction to the temperature of the lotion. I ran my hands slowly up and down his back. I fingertips grazed the edge of his shorts and I felt my pulse quicken. "Don't get any ideas, fag." He warned quickly, his voice harsh. "I just want to make sure you don't burn." I avoided going past the small of his back again. *** I had a lot of fun swimming. I felt so free in the water, like I could do anything. And it didn't hurt that I got to watch Chad swim around, wet and half-naked. Yeah, it was a good afternoon. When we got back to the cabin, Chad showered first. I waited outside the bathroom for a few minutes, until I was sure that he was in the shower, before following him inside. The laundry hamper was in the bathroom, and if I left my dirty, wet clothes on the floor, my mother would kill me. As soon as I walked in the bathroom though, I noticed that the shower curtain wasn't completely opaque. I could clearly see Chad's body. His sexy muscular frame, flexing underneath the hot stream. I licked my lips. I could feel my length harden embarrassingly, so I looked quickly away. Chad let out a soft moan. I surveyed the curtain once more. I shouldn't watch. But as I studied his frame I realized with a sort of glee, that my brother was masturbating. He hadn't realized that I'd come into the bathroom. I swallowed thickly. I watched him pump his member slowly. He was still just building himself up, teasing himself. I gingerly pulled down my wet shorts. I was trying to be as silent as possible. "Fuck." Chad breathed. My erection sprung free as I finally got my shorts past my thighs. I let them fall to the floor. I took my cock in my hand, my eyes were fixed on my brother's body. I shouldn't be doing this. If he caught me I'd be dead. Seriously, dead. I tried to remember what it felt like when he hit me. It was pain, it felt like the colour red smearing across my cheek. It felt like a bolt of unpleasant electricity jolting through the atriums of my heart. But still, I couldn't stop myself from looking. Whatever I get now, I deserve. Chad moaned softly again and I began stroking my length. I was going faster than he was. He was in control of himself, his need for release. I was reckless. When would I ever get this opportunity again? Memorize this. Memorize his body. Memorize his moans. This would fuel me for years if I paid enough attention. His dirty blonde hair was wet and clung to his tanned forehead. I couldn't make out the details of his face through the sheer curtain, but I could tell his eyes were closed. His body was rigid, he stood perfectly upright. As he jerked himself he would thrust his hips to the rhythm of his hand. I couldn't make out the length of his cock. But I could tell that it was bigger than mine, not substantially though which excited me. "Shit." Chad cursed before letting out another quiet groan of pleasure. I increased the speed of my jerking. I needed to make sure I got off before him, so I could leave before he had a chance to notice me. I closed my eyes briefly and just listened. His breathing was slightly laboured, his moans were deep and masculine. I imagined that I was on the floor of the shower, on my knees in front of him. God, what did he taste like? What did his cock taste like? What did his cum taste like? I wanted to know. I imagined that it was strong and salty. Maybe in real life it was unpleasant, but it wasn't in my fantasies. In my head, I was eager for it, eager to please him, to take his load on my tongue and swallow. I wanted a part of him to be inside me forever. What was Chad into? Did he want me to swallow? Did he want to paint my face with his load? Would he shoot in long, thick, white ropes like I did? Would it be clear, and come out in small spurts? God, I wanted to know. I could feel my body beginning to tense. I was close, so fucking close now. I could hear the sound of my brother jerking his cock, the erotic sound of skin slapping skin. I opened my eyes to look at him. I wanted to watch him as I came. I bit down hard on my lip, stifling my groan as I went over the edge. My load was a big one, and it shot onto my discarded swimming shorts. I rocked on my feet, trying to steady myself as my orgasm hit. As I felt myself coming down, Chad moaned loudly again. It was primal. He was climaxing. I watched, my eyes transfixed on his shaking form. As he began to come down, I tossed my shorts into the hamper and nearly sprinted from the bathroom. He didn't see me. Maybe there is a God, after all. *** After Chad and I had both showered, our parents offered to take us out for ice cream. It seemed so juvenile now, but it was something that we'd done since the first time we'd went camping here. And as much as I didn't want to admit it, it was a tradition that I really, really enjoyed. It was childish, but it was fun. Chad wore a pair of shorts and a wife beater with some flip flops. The shirt showed off his tanned, muscular arms. It was a painful reminder of how strong he truly was. He could really, really hurt me, if he wanted to. I knew it, but I couldn't help but stare. This obsession is getting out of hand. I'd only been away from other people for a day, and already I was coming back to my brother. It happened every time we were alone, or even somewhat alone. If I wasn't distracted with school, my thoughts always drifted back to my terrible, abusive, handsome, wonderful older brother. There was nothing I could do. We sat, the four of us, in the small booth at the ice cream store. It had a very retro vibe, it was styled after the classic '50's diners. It even had the black and white checkerboard floor. The booths were turquoise and bright pink. Our waitress was cute, I knew instantly she was the type of chick that Chad would normally go for. He wouldn't though, she had a wedding ring. Chad's a douche, but he's not that much of a douche. "What canna get for ya?" She was chewing bubble gum. It was sort of endearing though. "I'll get a double scoop waffle cone with peanut butter chocolate and vanilla ice cream." My dad ordered first. I was sitting beside him, so the waitress carefully wrote down his order then looked expectantly at me. "Uh... single scoop. Mint chocolate chip, please." I blushed when I ordered. That was typically Chad's order. I usually got rocky road. I wonder if he'd catch it. "Waffle or plain cone sweetie?" She grinned. "Plain." There, I'd made it different. Chad always got a waffle cone. "I'll get the same as him, but make it on a waffle cone. Thanks." Chad flashed her a smile. God, he's so cute when he smiles. He looks like such a nice boy when he smiles, actually smiles. I mean, he usually just has some sort of arrogant smirk painted on his soft lips. "I'll get a chocolate sundae. Thanks dearie." My mother ordered with a warm smile. We looked like the perfect family. Good, wholesome Catholics, spending time together during summer vacation. It was times like these where I wished I was straight. Then we really would be perfect. All of us. I hated being the screw up. Not that my parents looked at me like that - at least, not yet. I zoned out after a few minutes of pleasant conversation. I studied my brother. His dirty blonde hair shining in the sunlight. His perfect, white smile. His chocolate brown eyes. I love him. Really, I do. "Son? Son? Dylan?" A painful kick to the shin forced me out of my trance. Chad was eyeing me with annoyance. "Huh?" I asked, looking around the table. My father chuckled. "I asked if you know when you get to choose your courses for the next semester." "Oh, sorry. Uh, I get the selection form early next month." I said hesitantly. My brother was still glaring at me. "Well that's good. It'll give you some time to think about it." My father said with a smile, patting me on the back. I nodded. "Hey, do you guys mind if Dylan and I go select a song on the jukebox?" Chad interrupted the conversation. My heart thumped. Chad never wanted to be alone with me, even for a few minutes. "Sure, here's a quarter." My father handed Chad the money and the two of us slipped out of the booth. There were two sections of the diner. The section with the jukebox was empty. It was too early for dinner and too late for lunch, so they didn't bother seating anyone on that side. I walked in front of Chad. When I reached the machine I turned to face him. "What song did-" He cut me off, shoving me hard against the box. "Listen, stop fucking staring at me, faggot. I don't know where the hell your mind is going, and I don't want to know, so cut it the fuck out." He growled. My back ached, there were a whole bunch of buttons sticking out of the stereo and they dug into me painfully. "Chad, I wasn't-" He kneed me in the stomach and I doubled over, stifling a groan. He looked contemptuously down at me. "Fucking pathetic fag." He murmured, reaching behind me and dropping the quarter in the slot. He selected a song at random and headed back to the table without waiting for me. *** That night, I didn't sleep well. I tossed and turned all night. I was so conflicted. I hated myself for being so in love with him. Because I am in love with him. It isn't just attraction. When he's with anyone other than me he's so wonderful. He's charming, funny, intelligent, charismatic. He's the whole package, the perfect ten. And when I think back to when we were kids, he was so perfect to me. He was protective and loving and patient. But he isn't that person anymore. He's not that person to me. To me he's mean, violent, and harsh. I hate him for it. He's like a drug. He only causes pain, but there's something about him, something addicting that makes it so hard to quit. I can't stop loving him. I can't. I've tried. And I can't stop being attracted to him, even though sometimes I hate him. Even though, when he's hitting me, he's the ugliest person in the world. When he's not hitting me, he's beautiful. Chad was asleep before I went to bed. His clothes were in a messy pile by side of his bed. I needed to get to sleep. The pale moonlight shone in through the window. I could see the large, green trees blowing in the wind, but I could not hear the sound. I considered opening the window, just a crack, just to hear the nightlife. But I doubted it would help me sleep anyway. I sighed. I pulled the covers off hesitantly. I took a few small steps to Chad's side of the room and grabbed his shirt. I could smell it easily, his deliciously comforting scent filled my nostrils before I even brought the shirt to my face. I breathed it in. I slinked back into bed, burying myself under the covers. I held his shirt against my face. I hated myself, because I knew it would put me right to sleep. *** Our father and mother went fishing again. They hadn't caught anything the last time and now they were (or I should say my father was) absolutely determined to catch something. I didn't want to go with them, but I also didn't want to spend the whole day alone with Chad. That was far too risky. I decided to go out to the back, behind the cabin. There was a river there. I could lay in the sun and sketch, and listen to the peaceful rushing of the water. Maybe I'd see some interesting critters too. I just loved being out in the woods. I loved being surrounded by the sounds of animals and wind. The smell of fresh, healthy grass and pine. It was purifying. It was like a detox. Maybe if I jumped in the river it would cleanse me. I sat by the edge of the rushing water. It was a shallow river, very, very shallow. To be honest, it was more like a stream, because the water didn't travel fast and it wasn't wide. It was almost small enough to step over. But Chad and I always called it a river growing up. It seemed more important back then. I rested my bare feet against the edge and risked dipping my toes in. The water wasn't freezing, but it wasn't warm, either. I pulled my feet away from the water, and stretched out of the grass. The rays of the yellow sun danced across my skin, warming me, like a comforting embrace. I wish I could stay here forever. I grabbed my pencils and sketchbook. Draw something. Anything. Anything other than Chad. Anything. I rested the tip of the pencil against the paper. It was no use. If I didn't draw Chad, I wouldn't draw at all. And that means that this whole thing would've been one big waste of time. I started with his chin. It was the easiest thing to start with. It gave me a base. I carried up, outlining his cheekbones, drawing his ears. Then I drew the top of his head, and added in his hair. With the outline done, I was free to draw in the interesting details. I drew his lips. His perfect, full lips. I wonder what they feel like. I bet they're soft. I've seen him kiss girls before. It's always either an emotionless peck, or a slow, loving, soft kiss. The kind where he sucks their lips, his tongue dances with her tongue. I'd always been envious of that. His eyes were harder than his lips. To get an eye photorealistic with a pencil, it would take hours. Literally, hours. But I could sketch them fairly quickly, and get the general idea. The other details were easy. His nose, the shading in his hair. When I was finished, I wasn't thrilled with how it turned out. It looked so much like him, but something was missing. It's his expression, it's all wrong. Chad would never look at me so kindly. I snorted, flipping the page over and turning to a blank one. Maybe I should just draw a flower or something. Those were easy. As I began the outline of the stem, I heard footsteps approaching. I looked up, and saw Chad coming towards me. There was no point in trying to hide my sketchbook, he'd seen it. Trying to hide it would make him more suspicious. I kept drawing the flower. He'd mock me for it, but it was better than him seeing the ones I'd drawn of him. "Hey, fag." He said. Was this his official greeting now? "Hey." I mumbled. "What are you drawing?" He asked. I looked up at him, and tilted the page so he could see the flower. It was a daffodil. "Cool." He said, reaching for the book. I debated pulling it away, but it wouldn't do any good, he'd get it eventually. If I didn't react, maybe he wouldn't look through it. "But what are you actually drawing?" He asked with smirk, once the book was in his hand. I blushed. Fuck. Chad flipped the page over. "Oh, me." He said, nonchalantly. "And another one of me," He flipped the page, "Oh, and another." I knew what he would find on the next page, and my cheeks turned tomato red. He was going to kill me. "This one is definitely the best, don't you think?" Chad turned the book towards me, to show me what I had drawn. It was the sketch of him undressing. "Chad, listen, I have lots of drawings of Mom and Dad too. And some teachers, and-" "Bullshit!" He growled, cutting me off. He tossed my sketchbook to the side and it landed dangerously close to the stream. My heart thumped in my chest. If it went in, that was hours upon hours of work, gone. "Chad, I'm sorry!" I urged, standing. He was a few inches taller than me, but I felt so much smaller. With a snarl, he punched me hard in the face. I went toppling over with a howl. Tears prickled at my eyes, from pain and embarrassment. "You're not sorry, you fucking queer. You're obsessed. You think that I'm stupid?" He asked, kicking me in the leg. "I heard you the first night we got here, moaning my name like a fucking slut. And you know what else, dipshit? If you can see me through the shower curtain, I can fucking see you." He kicked me again, turning me so I was on my back, looking up at him. I blocked my face with my arms. My body cried out in pain. "And stop. Stealing. My. Clothes." With each word he kicked me again, mostly in the abdomen, once in the hips. I was sobbing now, completely unreserved. And I hated myself for being so pathetic. For needing him so badly. I hated myself for it all. Whatever he did to me now, it's my fault. I deserve it. I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew that if he found out, he would destroy me. Time to face the music. Chad looked down at me. His eyes were angry, he was breathing heavily. "Get on your knees." He ordered. "What!?" I spluttered, looking up at him through my tears. "Get on your fucking knees, now." I did as I was told, and climbed onto my knees in front of him. My torso hurt so badly, my face was tender to the touch. I could feel blood running down my cheek, but I didn't remember getting the cut. Had it been from Chad, or squirming around on the ground? I didn't know. Chad leaned down and gripped my hair forcefully. "You're such a faggot." He growled. He spat on me, and it trailed down my cheek, mixing with the blood. "Please stop." I begged meekly, not daring to look up at him. Chad ignored me and shook me hard, tugging my hair back and forth. "Say it. Tell me you're a faggot. Admit it." I felt like a ragdoll. He was in control of me completely. And I was terrified of what he would do if I didn't obey. "I'm a faggot." I breathed shakily, my voice thick with tears. He released my hair and I dropped forward, landing on my hands. I was on all fours in front of him, looking at the ground, crying pathetically. Chad hesitated, then I heard him exhale above me. Like he had decided something. "You're going to suck my cock." He told me forcefully, his hand moving to the buckle on his belt. "What?!" I asked again, looking incredulously up at him through my tears. "I can't do that, Chad. We can't-" Chad's strong hand gripped my hair once more and he forced my face against his pants. I could feel his erection against my face, separated by the two layers of clothing. It petrified me. There was a small part, a very small part of me though, that awakened, became aroused. I hated myself. "I'm not asking, bitch." He growled. I whimpered against the material. I had dreamed about this. Always imagined being on my knees in front of him, sucking his cock. But I had never, ever imagined it like this. I didn't want this. I didn't want to be forced into it, I didn't want it to be rough. In movies, the villain always gives an ultimatum. Do what I want, or I'll... Chad isn't like that. He doesn't give two options. Because he knows he doesn't need to. I'll always do what he tells me to do. Even if I hate it. Even if I hate myself for not hating it. I looked up at him, and watched. He unzipped his pants, and pushed them down. They stayed on his knees. His cock was tenting his boxers. It didn't last long, he quickly had his boxers around his knees too. For the Love of My Brother His other hand still gripped my hair and he pulled me towards him once more. "Suck my dick." He ordered, pushing my face against his swollen length. I swallowed thickly, looking at the large, imposing member that was in front of me. I had never imagined it like this. I can't. I can't do this. I kept my mouth closed tightly, and squeezed my eyes shut. There was still blood and spit running down my face. My body ached, my ribs were screaming. I felt like I was going to pass out. "Suck it." He ordered again, reefing on my hair. I groaned, but kept my mouth closed. I couldn't. Chad looked down at me, and I looked up at him. His brown eyes stared into mine, and we glared at each other. With his free hand, Chad reached down and clamped my nose shut. I could feel my eyes widen in shock and horror, though I shouldn't have been so surprised. I gasped, and Chad pushed himself into my waiting mouth. He released my nose and held the back of my head with both hands. I gagged as his cock pushed past my lips. I could taste him on my tongue. Chad controlled the movements to start. He bucked his hips slowly, working his length in and out of my mouth, forcing his entire pole down my throat. I couldn't tell how big he was, and I kept my eyes shut, so I couldn't see. I'd never sucked a dick before, so I had no point of reference. All I knew was that I couldn't stop gagging. Not that Chad cared. "This is how it's going to work for the rest of the week." Chad began, his fingers curling into my hair. "I'm in control. You'll do as I say." I groaned around his cock, my hands moved to his thighs and I tried to push him away. He was so much stronger than me, it hardly did anything at all. "Don't try to pretend that you don't like it. I've seen the way you look at me. I bet you were fantasizing about this. I bet you've been wanting to suck my cock for years, haven't you, faggot?" He released my hair and I fell off his cock. I gasped, trying to claim my breath. "Answer me, queer. Honestly." I looked up at him. He was right, I couldn't deny it. "Yes." I whimpered. Chad smirked. He'd won. "Suck my cock." There was no point trying to stop it now. It was happening. There was no escape. And I couldn't deny Chad. I couldn't deny myself. I moved closer to his erect prick and slowly, hesitantly, wrapped my lips around the head. My hands rested against his thighs, and I tried to memorize the way they felt. Muscular, strong, warm. My tongue swirled around the tip of his dick. It tasted like... skin. Just like normal skin, maybe a little sweatier. Saltier. I bobbed further down on him, trying to take as much length as I could. I went too fast and quickly let his cock fall from my mouth. "What, is this the first time you've sucked a cock?" Chad asked contemptuously, looking down at my gagging, panting form. I hesitated, not knowing the right way to answer. "Shit, it is, isn't it? Fuck, you're even bad at being gay." He chuckled. He gripped my hair again and brought me back to his dick. He forced himself into my mouth, pushing into me until I could feel his pubic hair tickling my nose. "Uhh, yeah, that's it. Fuck." He breathed, pumping his hips. Reluctantly, I could feel myself getting hard. How could I avoid it? I was sucking my dream guy's cock. From within me there came this need to please him, I wanted to make him happy. If I proved myself now... I moaned softly around his dick, working my head up and down his length without his guidance. Chad let his hands fall from my hair, and I took a little control. I jerked his cock with my hand, and let my tongue work around the tip. I traced the underside of his cock, before coming off of him completely. I continued pumping his dick, and my mouth moved to his balls. I took the right one in my mouth, and sucked on it. I moaned again, tasting the hairless outer skin of his sack. "Mm, that's it. Show me how much of a fag you are." Chad groaned. He chuckled quietly. "I bet this is turning you on, isn't it? I bet your cock is rock hard." It was. "Chad," I breathed, letting his balls drop from my mouth. "Chad, I love you." With this, my brother laughed loudly. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I know. Keep sucking me off." I looked searchingly up into his eyes, but he gave me nothing. Just stared expectantly down at me. I moved, resigned, to suck his dick once more. Do a good job. Please him. Show him how much you love him. "This is the only good thing about you, Dylan. You'll be a slut for me if no girls are around - you're so fucking pathetic." His insults only made me work harder. It only made me more eager to take his whole cock down my throat. I sucked him, locking my lips around his member and working as quickly as I could. My own dick was demanding attention. God, I needed to jack myself. Not unless he lets you. I needed to obey. I needed to. "Oh fuck, yes, yes, yes." Chad groaned, thrusting between my lips. "Jack yourself off." My brother ordered. I had never been so grateful for a command in my entire life. I pulled my cock out of my pants in an instant, and began jerking my length feverishly. At this rate, I would probably finish before he did. He fucked my face without abandon. It was merciless. My body was still throbbing, the pain of the assault wasn't yet over. I didn't care. I wanted to make him feel good. I wanted to make him love me. I moaned around his cock, as my orgasm overtook me. My body quivered, my load shot onto the grass between Chad's legs. A few ropes leaked down onto my hand. Chad didn't slow his assault. He kept fucking my mouth throughout my entire orgasm. I didn't mind so much, but I was breathless. I could see black spots in my vision. Whether it was from pain or pleasure, I wasn't quite sure. But Chad wasn't letting up. If he doesn't finish soon, I'm going to blackout. Thankfully, luckily, Chad's breath became laboured. His thrusts were short, fast and violent. He was getting close. "Fuck, I'm going to cum!" Chad growled. I was getting lightheaded. Finally, I felt his hot load shoot across my tongue. The tip of his cock was just past my teeth when the first rope came from his dick. I was tasting his cum. I was tasting my brother's cum. I felt giddy as the rest of his load coated the inside of my mouth. And when his limp cock finally fell from between my lips, I swallowed his load. I fell to my hands, looking down at the grass. Chad pulled up his pants and underwear quickly. He didn't need to tell me to keep this between us, he knew I would. He didn't say anything at all before walking away, back towards the cabin. I felt like I was going to throw up. My brother had just forced me to suck his dick... Had he really forced me? It was hard to say. We both got something out of it. I got to touch him, got to be intimate with him. He got a release. I sunk onto the grass. I could feel tears prickling at my eyes, and normally I would've tried to force them away. But I let myself cry. I wish Chad wanted this for the same reason I did. But he never would. *** I woke up late the next morning. I didn't sleep well. I rolled over and looked at my brother. He was reading. His back was resting against the headboard; he had propped his legs up and was resting his book on top of it. I wondered how he was feeling, if he was feeling anything unusual at all. "Hey Chad, whatcha reading?" I asked lazily, trying to appear nonchalant. Chad glanced over at me. "It's uh The Hunchback of Notre Dame, by Victor Hugo. Unabridged. Bad decision. There's literally 25 pages about what Paris looks like from above." He shook his head and smiled. He was being... friendly. My heart pattered. He was never like this. Maybe yesterday had meant something to him. "So I guess next time you'll go with the abridged version?" I asked, sitting up. He chuckled. "Next time I'll stick to books written in the twenty-first century." He folded the corner of the page over and set the book down on the floor. We sat in a comfortable silence, looking at each other. I wanted to ask him about yesterday. I was worried though. But he was being nice. He was never nice to me. Maybe... I'm not sure what I'm hoping for. "Chad, can I ask you something?" I asked, watching him. He rose from the bed and started going through his dresser, tossing clothes onto the bed. "Yeah, shoot." He responded. "Yesterday... did you... well, I mean, why did you...uh... why did you want me to... you know?" I was eighteen and was too anxious to say "blow job". That's seriously pathetic. Chad turned to look at me, his eyebrows raised. "Why do you think?" I hadn't really thought about it. I mean, I had thought about it a lot. But not his motives. But, why do people have sex? Why do people do intimate things? I'd always been told it was because you love someone. Did Chad love me, somewhere, deep, deep down? Maybe. Probably not. "I don't know." I breathed. Chad looked at me for a few seconds. He was contemplating something. Finally, he came and sat beside me on the bed. "It feels good." He said, his warm brown eyes staring into mine. My heart rate doubled. It felt good. I made him feel good. I could feel myself grinning like an idiot, and before I could even think about what I was saying, before I could even stop myself, I blurted out: "Do you love me?" As soon as the words escaped my lips I knew how ridiculous I sounded. I had a cut on my face, and too many bruises on my body to count. Quantitative proof that my brother did not love me. Chad laughed. I began caving in on myself, my shoulders sunk, I looked down at the ground, my cheeks burned bright red. "Let me make this perfectly clear, Dylan. I don't love you. I could never love you." His hand took my chin and he forced my face up to look at his. His hand was surprisingly tender, his voice was soft. "I don't even love you as a brother." I could feel tears prickling at my eyes, but I didn't let them spill over. I deserve this. I shouldn't have been so stupid. "Why?" I asked quietly. "You're pathetic. You're weak. Physically, emotionally. You're not a man. You're a queer. You're hardly even tolerable." I shuddered, looking down while he held my face. He was right. I'm the exact opposite of him in nearly every way. I'm weak, submissive, gay. Chad leaned closer to me, his thumbs tenderly stroked my cheeks. "But here's how things are going to work. For the rest of the week, you're going to do as I say. And maybe, just maybe, by the end of this vacation I might care about you. Just a little." "Really?" I asked eagerly, looking into his eyes once more. "We'll see." Chad released my face and stood. He pulled on his shirt and then he pulled on his shorts. I watched greedily, trying to memorize his body. His beautiful body, that could never be mine. "Mom and Dad rented a power boat for the day. We're going to the lake pretty quickly here," Chad began, looking at me. "You're going to stay home. I don't want to be around you." I nodded and remained on the bed. "Chad, do you want me to put sunscreen on you before you leave?" I offered. Chad looked at me for a few seconds. He reached out and smacked me hard across the face. I yelped in both surprise and pain, before bringing my hands up to my cheek. "Cut that shit out." He mumbled, before leaving. I didn't follow him. *** Chad left with our parents, so I had the cabin to myself. But I didn't want to stay. I needed to think, and I couldn't think locked up in the cabin. I needed to be with nature. I laced my hiking boots, grabbed my bag and headed outside. I brought a few water bottles with me and some food. I didn't bother grabbing a map or a compass. I'd basically lived in these woods for seventeen summers. I had them practically memorized. I'd be alright on my own. I breathed in the calming scent of the woods. The smell of trees, of fresh summer air, and the dirt. Walking into the woods felt like coming home. I could hear animals skittering in the trees and on the forest floor. It was wonderful being out here. It was safe. Nothing could hurt me here. In here, I was safe from the world. I was hidden away from bullies, from my parents, from Chad. It was just the trees and I. And I would be okay. My body hurt. Yesterday's assault had left me weak, physically. This morning had me emotionally drained. I can't believe I acted the way I did this morning. I don't know what it is about Chad. He just has this power over me. I shouldn't love him. Forget the fact that he's a man. Forget the fact that he's my brother. He hits me. He hits me. And yet, I always came crawling back. He beat me, and what did I do? I sucked his cock. He cut open my face and in return I sucked his dick. Talk about masochistic. God. I need to stop this. I wish I could just turn my heart off for the next four days. I wish I could just not care about Chad. I don't know why he hits me. Well, I mean, I know why he hits me now. But I don't know why he started, all those years ago. Maybe it was just a brotherly thing. And then it just got out of hand. That's probably all that it was. That's all this is. Emotions that got out of hand. He hates me. I love him. Combine the two, and everything makes sense. He doesn't care about me, so he doesn't care if he hurts me. He doesn't care if it hurts me to be intimate with him. Because he enjoys it. I sort of enjoy it too, so I don't really have any right to say that what he's doing is wrong. Let's be honest here. I wanted to suck his dick. I'd been fantasizing about it for months, years. So I wanted it to be different. I wanted him to be gentle and tell me that he loved me and tell me that I was a good boy, a good brother. But he didn't do that. Who's fault is that? It's no ones, really. I want something that he won't give me. Maybe he can't give it to me. But do I keep doing it? The grass compressed beneath my feet, then promptly sprung back up. The wind gently shook the trees, and the leaves circled in the air, dancing to a silent melody. There were birds, chirping to one another. The warm sun shone through the canopy, the forest was light with July sun. The temperature was perfect. I wasn't even sweating by the time I reached our meadow. I dropped my pack and sunk to my knees. Our meadow. It was like an oasis in a desert. The trees broke away and outlined a small, grassy field. There were small white flowers that grew on the forest floor. They had a light perfume, not overpowering, not distinct. A small stream, like the one in our backyard ran through it. It was glorious. "Chad, we shouldn't be here. Mom and Dad told us not to go in the woods without them." "Sh, it's okay, Dylan." Chad's grip on my hand tightened. I looked up at him, his brown eyes searched the forest looking for a sign. Looking for something familiar. "Don't get mad." He whispered. "Chad..." "I think we're lost." He breathed. I looked around the forest. The trees were so tall. Everything was so big, so unfamiliar. It was scary. I didn't want to be lost. I wish we had stayed in the backyard. What if we never found our way out? What if no one ever found us? "Hey, look!" Chad released my hand and ran into the clearing. He quickly dropped to his knees in front of the stream. "It's just like the one in our backyard. Maybe it leads to it!" He exclaimed, dipping his small fingers in the water. I began sobbing. "Whoa, hey, Dylan what's wrong?" Chad asked, staring at me. "I'm scared!" I shouted. Chad frowned and ran up to me, pulling my body against his. "Why are you scared Dylan?" He asked, rubbing my back. "Because we'll be lost in here forever and no one will ever find us and we'll be eaten by a bear and Dad's going to kill us-" "Hey, hey, hey." Chad said, taking my face in his hands, and making me look up at him. "None of that is going to happen. You know why?" "Why?" Chad's thumbs traced my cheeks and he wiped away my tears. "Because I'm your big brother, and I won't let anything bad happen to you. That's why. Now stop crying. Come sit on my lap, and I'll tell you a story." Chad said, pulling me down. I nestled into his lap, burying my head into his shoulder. His arms held me tightly, his hands rubbed my back. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful woman, and a handsome prince..." Our parents had found us a few hours later. I didn't tell our father whose idea it was to go into the woods. And he didn't ask. That was the last summer Chad and I had spent as brothers. He was eleven, and I was six. I went to his school the following September. I relaxed into the grass, laying my face next to the small, white flowers. What would it have been like, if my brother and I had continued to be that way? Maybe it would have been better. But then again, those were days in our childhood. Back when my brother loved me, he would've given me anything I wanted. Which might not have been good. Even back then, even at six, I knew I was in love with him. As we grew, as I grew, my love for him would've grown. And so would his love for me. Maybe it was better this way. Him hating me. This way, we'd never be forced apart. No one except Chad would ever know how I felt about him. If I was allowed to show it, if he was in love with me too, I couldn't have kept it hidden. I groaned, rolling onto my side. There's no point in this speculations. Chad doesn't love me. He isn't gay. Things are never going to go back to the way they were. I need to focus on the present. Chad wants me to pleasure him. I want to pleasure him. But... can I live with myself? Will it destroy me? I've never done anything with anybody. I've never even kissed anyone. Will it destroy me to give parts of myself to Chad, when I know that he'll never, ever love me back? But what if I said no to him, and then never fell in love with someone else? What if I said no, and never had this opportunity again? I'd just have to spend the rest of my life wondering what could've happened. You're forgetting one thing. You don't have a choice. You'll never say no to him. And he'll never let you refuse. *** "How was the power boat?" I asked, sitting down self-consciously on my bed. Chad was lying on his stomach, but he turned his head to face me. "It was awesome. Dad let me drive it for a bit. I'm sore as Hell though. Got a nasty burn." He said. I noticed it when he got back, but didn't want to point it out. It was just on his back, he must've applied sunscreen everywhere else. I didn't know what to say though, I was worried he'd get mad at me again. I wasn't really sure what set him off earlier, so I didn't know what to avoid. But his back was red, like tomato red. "Did you want me to put some aloe on it?" I asked cautiously. "You just want to touch me, don't you?" Chad asked. That was definitely part of it. Chad climbed up so he was sitting on his bottom. He dropped his legs over the edge of the bed. "I want to make you feel better." I said softly. I was worried that he'd get up and do something. He didn't look angry, but that didn't really mean anything. "Come over here." He said. His voice wasn't loud, it wasn't aggressive. But it was dominant. I couldn't say no. I climbed out of bed and began walking towards him. "Crawl." He said, eyeing me. I obeyed, sinking down onto my knees. I crawled on my hands and knees until I was right in front of him. He spread his legs wider, so I inched between them. "At least you're being obedient." He said, more to himself then to me. "You know what I want, fag. And I know what you want. Suck my dick."