Date: Sun, 05 Jan 2003 00:22:56 -0600
From: Matthew Wellesley <mattwxyz@hotmail.com>
Subject: My Brother Loves Me - Chapter 1 Corrected
MY BROTHER LOVES ME
A story by Matt Wellesley
Chapter One
WARNING: This story is offensive to some people. If you
don't like hearing or reading about gay love, sex, or incest--
or if it's not legal for you to read sexually explicit
material--don't read this story. The story is based on fact.
_________
I'll ANSWER all email. I hope you write to me.
MattWxyz@hotmail.com
_________
Chapter One - Awakening
I don't know when the desire hit me, but I wanted to
touch Damon--rub his muscles, touch him all over. I loved
when we played and wrestled, and I got to feel his body
pressed tight against mine.
We were close, and I even got to see him naked, a lot.
I thought Damon was beautiful. At that time, I didn't know
what those feelings were that I had toward him--and the
thought of actually touching him like that, or saying
anything, scared me to death. Damon was always good to me,
but I wasn't taking any chances on getting my first black eye
from him.
At the age of fourteen, I thought I knew everything.
When I got to sixteen, I knew I was just starting to learn
things. But the interesting stuff started when I was
fourteen. I look back to that time, now, with a smile.
It was the day after my birthday, and my friend Rick
talked me into going to a summer camp for a week.
"Matt," Rick said, "I know you'll like it."
"Yeah, I guess."
"What do you mean, guess? You love going camping with
your brother, so what's to guess about? I'm your best friend,
right? You say your brother's your best friend, too, so come
on, Matt!"
Damon is my older brother who's a really great guy--he
was sixteen then--I'm two years younger. Rick, on the other
hand is my age, and my best friend (second best friend,
really) but he was a pain in the ass.
"It's just different, Rick. I mean, different with a
brother." I was trying to explain the most important thing in
my life to Rick, but it was going over his head, judging by
the look on his face. Rick was an only child. "Look, Rick--I
said I'll go. I promise, OK? I'm sure I'll like it."
"Whew! Ok, cool. I know you'll love it, Matt. I'll
even bring my inflatable canoe. There's this awesome stream
and we can go exploring."
"Ok. See you later, Rick. I gotta get home."
"Yea, later, Matt."
It's not that Rick wasn't cool or that I didn't like
camping or anything, but the idea of being away from home
bothered me, the more I thought about it.
Things were different in my family. Later, I'd realize
how sheltered I was--both of us were, me and my brother Damon.
But mostly me, because Damon and my dad were protective of me,
I guess because I was small for my age. I knew I'd miss both
of them--being away from home for the first time--especially
Damon.
My whole life is the three of us--me, dad, and Damon.
My mom died when I was six years old, and even though Damon
and I were close, we got closer after that. He's a very good
brother--almost never said no when I want to tag along with
him. Now, I see what a pain in the butt I was at times--with
Damon having to drag me around, and take crap from his friends
about it. He stood up for me, though. His friends still
teased him about it, but they respected him.
I did everything with Damon--cleaned, cooked, studied,
played--and when the chips were down or I didn't feel well,
Damon cheered me up and did my part of the chores. When I
felt better, he usually had some project for me to do to pay
him back for the favor. I thought that was fair, though.
Half the time, he'd help me with the project--then it became
another thing we did together. I did stuff on my own for him,
too--mostly when he wasn't expecting it. I loved to surprise
him.
We both thought it was cool that our names side by side
were 'Matt Damon.' I thought he was a great movie star. We
even tried to act like him once, and see who was the best at
sounding like him.
We were a huggy family--dad raised us to be loving. Our
ancestors were from Europe. Our whole family, cousins and
all, kissed hello and hugged. We didn't always kiss on the
lips--but me, dad, and Damon did.
I never talked about our kissing habits with others
because at first I thought all families hugged and kissed a
lot. Later, I found out most people think it's weird, so I
tried not to have friends over much. I didn't need friends
anyway--I had my big brother who was always there to do things
with. Besides, Damon was a really cool older brother. He was
on the basketball team, and he let me work out with him with
weights in the basement. He even let me drive his car once in
a while, when no one was around.
I'd miss all that, going away to camp, and started to
regret telling Rick I'd go with him. I was thinking about
that as I got to the house and opened the back door.
"Hey Bud!" Damon said, smiling, "Why the long face?"
Damon called me 'Bud' a lot. He was wearing an old
basketball jersey with 'Hi Matt' on the back. As usual, he
wanted to talk--even more so after seeing my expression. I
wanted to talk, too, but I wasn't ready to tell anyone my
feelings about going away to camp. I was mad at myself for
saying 'yes' to Rick. I threw my stuff on the table.
"Quit calling me 'Bud.' You never call me 'Matt,'
anymore!" I said. I made a dash for the living room couch.
Damon was on me in a second. His long fingers dug into my
ribs, and I turned to jelly. Damon used any excuse to tickle
me. "Ah! No! Stop!" I said, as if that would do any good.
He was so much bigger than I was, I didn't have a chance of
escaping.
"Ok," he said sternly with that look in his eyes that
says 'I'll get you.' He sat up and showed off his tapered
physique, then twisted me around so I was flat on my back. He
laid on top of me, stretching my arms above my head, and dug
his chin into my ribs. I could barely breathe from laughing
so hard. "Ok, MATTY," he said with his mocking tone, "What's
wrong with MATTY today?"
"Quit calling me 'Matty!'" I managed to say between
heaving laughs.
"Oh! What should I call you? MATTHEW? I have to be
formal with my little brother? Bud's not a good enough name
for you, boy?" he went on, as his chin tortured my ribs.
"Quit calling me 'boy!'" I said angrily. Well, that set
him off. Damon went on a barrage of tickling that was so bad,
I don't know how I kept from passing out. I wasn't really mad
at Damon, I just wanted to sound angry.
"Ah! Oh! Please! Damon--no! Ah!" He'd flipped me
over and had my arms up behind my back with one hand. With
the other, he tickled with a vengeance.
"This'll teach you to be disrespectful to your older
brother," Damon said. "I ought to paddle you." I could hear
the half smile, half smirk on his face.
"No! Oh, God! Please, Damon, stop!" Then he just fell
on me, with his face practically on top of mine.
"You gonna be good, Matt?"
"Yes--Damon, I promise!"
"Kiss and make up."
"Ok."
I don't know if it was just me, but a kiss was like
magic for wiping the slate clean and starting over. It was
funny as I thought about it--Damon had the upper hand, but he
was calling me 'Matt,' now, like I wanted. I guess that
really didn't surprise me, though.
"Come on, bro," Damon said in a voice that was annoyed
and loving at the same time, "What's up?"
"I told Rick I'd go to camp with him next week. I
promised, and now I don't want to."
"Oh, is that all?" Damon said, as he turned away for a
second. "The Wilbur Valley one? You'll love it. It's up in
the mountains overlooking some great scenery--about a hundred
miles from here. A lot of guys say it's really fun."
"Yeah, but--"
"No 'buts'--except you. Get yours in the shower. You
stink!" I was always sweaty and stinky after being outside in
the hot weather. "Right now!"
"I'm going!"
"And don't touch my tapes, or I'll--"
"Ok, ok!" I said, running up the stairs, in case he
changed his mind and tickled me more. I used to borrow his
tapes a lot, but the week before, I'd spilled Coke on a new
tape, and Damon had to buy another one. That was one of the
few times I thought my brother was really mad at me. I felt
bad about that, and paid him back by doing a project--
organizing all his stuff, including his clothes. He loved it.
I was glad things got back to normal after that. Even
though it was only for a day, I couldn't stand Damon being mad
at me. I think it would have been better if he'd just paddled
me and got it over with.
After the shower, I wrapped in a towel and headed for my
closet. I jumped out of my skin at the sudden sound of a
voice.
"I'll miss you, Matt," Damon said.
"I'll miss you, too, Damon."
I guessed that was all that needed to be said. Damon
changed the subject.
"Time to get dinner going," he said. Most of the time,
Damon and I had to cook supper. "Dad will be home soon."
"What are we making?"
"Hey, squirt, why don't you decide, for a change?" I
wasn't ready for that. Damon always decided what to cook.
"Hot dogs?" I said, thinking that would be easy.
"Oh, Chef Boyardee! No way, Matt!"
"Ok. What about the tuna thing you stuck in the
freezer?"
"Hmm...not dad's favorite, but, it'll do. It's tuna
casserole, by the way."
"I like it. Don't you?"
"Yeah, Bud...it'll be fine."
The next few days were a blur, but the dreaded day came,
and I heard Rick's dad honking the horn for me, to take me and
Rick to the bus for camp. Damon and I were in the kitchen.
We stood there and looked at each other. I gave him a quick
goodbye hug and kiss, and I was out the door. I gulped, and
felt a pain in my chest as I headed for the car--the closest
thing to chest pain that a fourteen-year-old boy could feel.
"Hey, where's your stuff?" Rick's dad shouted.
In my confusion, I had forgotten my bag and backpack.
Blushing, I turned around and retrieved them from the house.
"YOU'RE in good shape, I see," Rick said tauntingly as I
threw myself and my gear into the back seat. "What'd you do,
stay up all night?"
"No," I said, "I was just thinking about stuff." That
was a code phrase with me and Rick. If anyone said 'thinking
about stuff,' it meant the subject was touchy, and you didn't
ask about it. Actually, I had been up all night. I couldn't
sleep, thinking about being away from Damon and home.
"You bring your flashlight?" Rick asked? I could tell,
he was just waiting for me to say 'no' so he could catch me in
a mistake--one of Rick's favorite pastimes.
"Yep. Got it."
"Fresh batteries?"
"Yep."
"Canteen?"
"Um, no. Didn't think about that."
"Aha! Guess what? I brought an extra one. Just in
case you forgot."
Rick was being kind for some reason. Maybe he sensed
that I wasn't all that happy about going away from home, and
was trying to cheer me up. Well, it was working. It felt
good to think that Rick would bring something for me. I guess
that earned Rick an 'Attaboy'--a word I learned from my dad.
"Thanks," I said, and smiled. It was the first time I
smiled that day.
"I knew you'd forget it," Rick said condescendingly--
which immediately canceled his Attaboy.
We got on the bus. Just about every seat was taken by
the time we started to roll. No one was talking much at
first, which was just as well. I needed time to let it sink
in that I was really going to be away from home for a week. I
didn't know how long the bus ride would be. Damon said the
camp was far away. I felt trapped--and I knew I wouldn't be
able to change my mind and go home, once I got there. When
all you've got is your two feet for transportation, a hundred
miles away might as well be a thousand.
"So," Rick said, breaking the silence, "what do you want
to do when we get there? Go swimming?"
"Yeah, that sounds good." Actually, that didn't sound
good. Rick was excellent at pulling me underwater, which made
swimming impossible. I was small for my age, so most of my
friends had the upper hand when it came to physical combat. I
was good at track, though, and that earned me enough respect
to get by.
Eventually, everyone got to talking and it was pretty
noisy on the bus. Various myths and customs about the camp
became the hot topic. We were told that the food was
poisonous. You could become immune only by drinking a potion
called, woo-joo--that was water that had been boiled with wood
in it.
When we finally got to camp, I was shocked to see that
there actually was a huge pot of boiling water over a fire,
and there was wood floating in it. I guess it was a
tradition. The older boys forced us to drink it. It wasn't
all that bad tasting--and I pretended to hate it and believe
that the stuff made me immune to the camp's poisonous food.
"Is the food really all that bad?" I asked Rick when we
were alone.
"Nah. It's not the best, but it's good--WHOA!" Rick
said, looking at me, "I can see you took the cure, Matt."
"See? What do you mean, SEE?"
"You're turning green, man."
"I AM?" I said, suddenly sick to my stomach.
"Ha ha!"
That was Rick--the constant practical joker.
"Some friend you are, Rick. Been here ten minutes and
you got me sick already."
"Not me. Must've been something you ate, Matt. You did
drink the woo-joo, right?"
"Yeah. It wasn't bad."
"Did you fake getting sick from it, like I told you?"
"Yep. Sure did." Actually, I thought acting was one of
my better talents, though I never told anyone.
"Yea--good thing. The older kids get nasty if you
don't."
I was really glad that I avoided anything nasty from the
older boys--and I didn't want to know what 'nasty' meant,
exactly. I wasn't used to guys older than me being mean in
any way, even though I got my share of the paddle at home--I
always figured that was just part of growing up. Most of my
abuse came from guys my age--mainly because I was small.
Damon was never really mean to me, so it was hard for me to
think of older kids acting that way.
I had no clue at the time, but later I was to find out
that back home, the older boys left me alone because of my
brother, who was bigger than most of the other kids at school.
I don't know if it was luck or prearranged, but Rick and
I were assigned to the same cabin. Rick took the lower bunk
and I took the upper. At least there would be someone around
that I knew, though I didn't look forward to a week of Rick's
practical jokes. I prayed there would be enough things to do
at this place to distract him from that.
The camp was nice. The guys were nice. Even Rick was
being nice--but none of it helped. I missed Damon with an
ache in my gut, and I went to the bathroom and cried.
The so-called bathroom was actually outside, about a
hundred yards away. It had no roof, and was just a series of
toilet bowls and a few sinks. It wasn't a place you really
wanted to go to or hang around, because the stink would drive
you out. The showers were in a separate area.
When I got back to the cabin, none of the guys paid any
attention except Rick. He took one look at me, and he knew
something was up. I guess he didn't want to deal with it
because he turned away after that. It was just as well. I
wanted to be alone, so I climbed up to my bunk. Being up all
night made me pretty tired, so I fell asleep. I woke up to
the feel of something cold and wet on my face.
"I almost drowned and you could've saved me," I could
hear Rick saying--through the fog of waking up way sooner than
I wanted to. They must have all gone swimming and let me
sleep. The thing on my face was his wet bathing suit.
"Yuck! Why'd you put this on me?" I pulled the soggy
thing off my face and threw it at him.
"Figured it would wake you up. It worked."
"Gee, thanks." I jumped to the floor. Rick stared.
"Matt, why do you sleep naked?"
"I don't know--I just do." I blushed. I thought
everyone slept naked. "We always do. Keeps us warm in the
winter."
"We? Us?" Rick said, dumbfounded. "You mean, you
sleep with your brother?"
"Yeah." Rick had a way of making me feel guilty about
the most normal things.
I wrapped in a blanket. I needed to pee really bad,
too, and started for the bathroom when I remembered how far
away it was. So I just bit the bullet, and threw on my
clothes. I'd get there eventually, I thought--or find a good
tree. The other guys were gone, and I wondered about that.
"Where is everyone?" I asked Rick.
"'Bout time for dinner. They all left for the
cafeteria."
"Cool, I'm hungry!"
"Well, don't get too excited, Matt, it's not like home
cooking, you know."
That reminded me of home--and seeing the look on Rick's
face, it must have showed on mine. A sudden rush of feelings
took my breath away. I was homesick, but I really didn't know
what that was supposed to mean, exactly.
"It's gettin' to ya, huh--missin' home?" Rick said in a
softer than usual voice.
"Yeah, I guess. Don't they believe in campfires and
cooking outdoors, around here?"
"Yea. You'll get your share of that, don't worry. Did
you bring your mess kit?"
"Yep."
"Me, too."
"So, why have a cafeteria?"
"Don't know, Matt. It's just...they do that for certain
meals, especially the first day, I guess."
On the way to the cafeteria, I stepped into the trees
and finally got to pee. It was a nice, big tree, and I'm sure
I didn't hurt it. I thought about stuff like that, sometimes.
I ate dinner in a daze, and held back the tears. At
least the food wasn't spicy. It was sort of like nothing,
which was fine with me at that point.
"Matt Rogers?" a deep voice suddenly said in my ear.
That about launched me out of my seat.
"Yeah, that's me," I said, choking on my food, and
coughing till I was red in the face.
"Matt, are you ok?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I said, swallowing hard and
looking up at the guy. He was probably 18 or 19--tall, like
Damon--and seemed ok.
"I'm Phil Damon, your counselor."
I choked on my own breath. "Your--your last name is
Damon?" I said, feeling my heart pound.
"Yes. Why? Do you know someone else by that name?"
"Um, yeah. I do. Sorry."
"No reason to be sorry. I came by to tell you that camp
physicals will be held right after dinner, so line up at the
red door when you finish eating."
"Ok. No problem."
"Do you have any illnesses or conditions that would
interfere with camp activities?"
"No, sir," I said nervously. I didn't know what camp
activities they had, but I knew there was nothing wrong with
me.
"Call me Phil," he said as he wrote on a clipboard.
"Ok. Nice to meet you, Phil."
The physicals were nothing special. We took off our
shirts and got examined. Then, they gave us a shot, but never
said what it was. When we got outside, I asked Rick.
"What was that shot for?"
"Don't know, Matt. They always do that. Keeps you
healthy, I guess." Rick had been to this camp before, and he
knew the ropes.
When we got back to the cabin, Phil has us sign in on
his clipboard, and he inspected all our stuff. I guessed they
had pretty strict rules about what you couldn't bring with you
to camp. Phil talked to us about the rules, and got us all
talking about ourselves.
I was shocked to hear that Rick and his parents were all
hurt in a car accident, the year before he moved to our
neighborhood. Then I felt like an idiot for not knowing
something so important about my second best friend. As I
thought about it, I wondered why he never told me.
To me, it seemed like it was late after we got the
formalities out of the way, but it was still light out. Rick
and I did one of our favorite things. We climbed as many
trees as we could, and generally horsed around.
We all jumped when we heard Phil blow his counselor
whistle, ordering us back to the cabin. It was getting dark
then, and he told us to hurry to the showers, and be back
before dark. For me, this was not good news. I knew from
track team how guys would tease me about my size, especially
in the shower. Rick and I stood together and washed.
"You're growing," Rick said in a whisper.
"Huh--growing? Am I taller?"
"Well, maybe," Rick said, "but, um...you know, down
there," he whispered hoarsely as he took a quick glance at my
dick.
I wasn't hard, I knew that much, so I had no idea what
he was talking about.
"I don't get it," I said.
"Just look."
Reluctantly, I looked down at myself, thinking this was
one of Rick's jokes, but sure enough, totally soft, it looked
bigger to me. I grinned with excitement.
"Wow! You're right, it looks bigger."
"Sssh! Goddammit, not so loud, man!"
"Oh, sorry, Rick," I whispered, becoming aware that
maybe some of the guys had heard me. I figured, so what--
everyone else was busy talking, and they couldn't know what I
meant, anyway. Still, Rick's tone had me blushing. It made
me mad that he could always have that effect on me. "Speaking
of loud, Rick, did you have to say that to me?"
"Ok, just shut up." That was the closest thing to an
apology that you could get from Rick.
All of a sudden, the chatter stopped and everyone was
quiet. There must have been another shower area on the other
side of the wall. We could hear older boys showering and
talking. One of the guys was talking about what his
girlfriend did to him, and we all had our ears perked. I
couldn't believe what he was saying she did, but I guess it
felt really good.
I don't know if the wind kicked up or it was chilly all
of a sudden, but I froze running back to the cabin--half
dripping, half dry, and wrapped in a towel. I thought about
what Rick noticed in the shower, and began to feel a twinge of
pride about my dick. Maybe now I'd have less to be ashamed of
when I showered with the team.