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.