Date: Wed, 16 Jul 2003 11:42:14 +0100
From: Drew Hunt <drew.hunt@blueyonder.co.uk>
Subject: The Ties That Bind 1

Disclaimer - The following story contains scenes of incest and
homosexuality.  If you do not like reading about such things, then a quick
press of the back button on your Internet browser may be a good move.

If you shouldn't be reading this story due to your being too young, or it
being illegal to access such things in your community, then you should
leave too.

The following story is fiction; it takes place in a fictional town in
Lancashire in the north of England.  Any resemblance to real persons or
places is purely coincidental.

This story is copyright.  It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the
terms of their submission agreement and it may not be posted to any other
website without the prior written consent of the author.

Author's note - This story is somewhat of a departure from my other story
here on Nifty (Fireside Romance in the Relationships section) as previously
stated it is incestuous in nature, with a few more surprises along the way.
Whilst the story does contain some descriptions of sexual activity, the
overwhelming emphasis in this story is about love and commitment.  I hope
you enjoy it.

Once again a big thank you must go to my friend John for offering his
editorial assistance.

Please drop me a line at drew.hunt@blueyonder.co.uk and let me know what
you think.

The Ties That Bind

Chapter 1

Chris Blake sat on his bed trying to sort out his feelings.  He'd been in a
quandary about what to do with his younger brother for a long time now.

Chris was by any definition of the word a stud.  He stood just over 6 feet
3 inches tall.  His broad shoulders and rippling muscled chest and small
waist were gained through many hours spent in his weight room in the cellar
at home.  Chris also spent his lunchtimes working out in the gym in the
basement of the Benefits Agency, where he was a rising star in the pensions
division.  Chris was helped to keep in shape by playing Rugby League for
his town's amateur team at the weekends during the winter months.  Living
in a town in South Lancashire, meant that Chris played League, rather than
the kick and clap Union rubbish which the soft public schoolboys in the
South of England played.

Christopher Andrew Blake was a true Alpha male.  His work colleagues and
his teammates on the rugby pitch alike, all deferred to him without even
questioning why they did so.  Chris was a born leader of men.  He knew how
to motivate his teammates, that was why when the captaincy of the team came
up for grabs he was elected to the position unopposed.

If a member of the rugby team had failed to perform during a match, that
team member would go up to Chris in the changing room afterwards and
apologise to Chris.  The team wanted to win, not just because winning was
the main aim of the game, but because they didn't want to disappoint their
esteemed skipper, by not giving of their best.

Danny Wilson the team's Scrum Half, a small wiry youth about 5 feet six
inches tall, with short black spiky hair and grey eyes, could normally tear
down the pitch evading tackles from the opposing players.  That day
however, Danny hadn't come up to standard when the team had played a local
derby match.  The team managed to scrape through despite Danny's below par
performance.

Danny had showered quickly that day. He stood a little apart from his
fellow teammates as he cleansed himself trying to avoid their disapproving
glances.  He also tried to block out their jeering comments.  Danny knew he
had messed up, but the worst thing as far as he was concerned was yet to
come, his talk with Chris.

Chris never called a player to come and see him.  They just knew by
instinct that they had to make atonement for their errors directly to him.

Danny towelled himself dry and put on his street clothes, tied up his shoe
laces and then he took a deep breath, and walked to the far corner of the
changing room for his audience with Chris.

Chris was bending down slowly and methodically tying his shoelaces.  He
knew that Danny was standing near him.  He knew of course why Danny was
there, but Chris didn't acknowledge Danny's presence straight away.

Danny looked down at his captain's mop of sandy blonde hair.  Danny was in
love with the man who was studiously ignoring him.  It wasn't a passing
phase, nor was it a childish crush.  Danny truly worshiped the man god in
front of him.  Danny of course couldn't speak of his love.  He was too
afraid of being ridiculed by his idol.  He knew that Chris wouldn't hurt
Danny physically if he ever got to know of Danny's feelings.  Off the
pitch, Chris was a gentleman in all senses of the word.  No Danny couldn't
say what was on his mind, to speak it out loud would somehow cheapen what
Danny felt for this vision of male perfection.  Danny wasn't all that good
with words, even if he'd had the courage to speak his feelings out loud,
the words wouldn't have come out right, they would just make him sound like
a gushing schoolgirl.  Danny stood rooted to the spot trying to quell his
urge to reach out and run his fingers through the soft hair that was only
about a foot away from his trembling hand.

Finally Chris looked up directly into Danny's face.  The Scrum half
couldn't meet Chris's gaze for long.  He dropped his eyes and mumbled an
apology to Chris.

"Come and take a seat here Danny."  Chris said with his soft Lancashire
accent.

Danny was glad of the offer to sit, because whenever his idol spoke
directly to him, his knees grew a little weak.

"Now what happened out there?"  Chris asked evenly.  Chris put one of his
strong arms around the slightly shivering teenager.  Chris wasn't angry or
upset.  He knew that his team would always give 100% of themselves to him.
Chris knew that there had to be a good reason why Danny wasn't up to speed.

"Sorry Skip.  My mind just wasn't on the ball today."

"Would you like to talk to me about it?"  He asked with a true caring
softness in his voice.  Chris did not take his eyes off his number 7.
Because unknown to Danny, Chris had deep feelings for his smaller and
physically weaker team mate too.  Chris couldn't say that he was in love
with Danny, just that his heart always went out to the troubled younger man
whenever they encountered each other.  Danny had not had the best start in
life.  His parents had abandoned him at an early age, and Danny had spent
his formative years in the so-called care system.  Chris only knew the
basic facts about Danny's existence, for that is what it was, an existence.
Danny couldn't say that he truly lived during those years; he merely eked
out a survival in the many children's homes in which he was placed.

"Erm, I'm not really sure why I couldn't concentrate today skip.  You know
that I could be made redundant at Fosters next week?"

Fosters was the town's glass works.  They were facing increased foreign
competition, and the jobs of the newer members of staff were in serious
jeopardy.  Like many other companies, Fosters had a policy of last in,
first out.  Danny had worked at the firm for just over a year, he'd left
school with 5 GCSE's.  Not a very good haul, considering the local
comprehensive school's average performance, which put them second in the
local league table for academic achievement.

"Danny I honestly hope you'll be able to keep your job."  Chris said giving
his smaller teammate a squeeze.  Danny shuddered involuntarily at his
skippers gesture.

"Yeah thanks, I do too, because I can't see me getting another job anywhere
else round here."

"I really hope that it all works out for you my friend.  You more than
anyone deserve a lucky break."  Chris said with all sincerity.

"Thanks skip.  I knew you'd understand."

"Okay Danny, thanks for coming to see me."  Chris said removing his arm and
turning his body away from Danny.  The meeting was over.  Danny let out a
breath.  He was relieved that it hadn't taken too long.

Chris was glad to end the interview too, as he had a hard time fighting off
his urge to put both his arms around his teammate.  Chris just wanted to
cuddle the seventeen-year-old boy and promise him that he'd protect him
from any further hurts that the world could throw at the unfortunate boy.
Chris couldn't take this course because he couldn't deliver on such a
promise; it wasn't within Chris's gift to give such a guarantee.  Chris
never promised anything that he knew he couldn't deliver.  He knew his team
depended on his leadership.  Offering false hope wasn't the way to receive
his teams continued loyalty.

Back in Chris's bedroom, he continued to ruminate about the problem he'd
been thinking over, his 16-year-old younger brother Scott.  Chris knew what
the solution was, he was afraid of the awesome power that would be
unleashed if Chris put his thoughts into effect.

Chris was 20 years old.  He'd taken A-Levels at the local sixth-form
college, but he'd decided not to go off to University.  His expected grades
would have guaranteed him a place at many of Britain's institutions of
Higher Education, but Chris had a sense of family obligation that he placed
before his own desire to gain an academic degree.

Scott and Chris's father had died when Chris was only six years old; Scott
had only just celebrated his second birthday.

George Blake had been a long distance lorry driver.  He had worked for a
haulage company whose safety record left a great deal to be desired.  One
night during a long distance run from Portsmouth with a load of machine
tool parts destined for a company in Sheffield, the steering mechanism on
George's lorry had failed.  George plunged over a bridge into a valley far
below the motorway.  Thankfully George didn't suffer, he died the instant
his cab hit the ground.  He left a wife and two small children behind.

The haulage company tried to weasel their way out of paying compensation.
They claimed that George had done the maintenance on the lorry, causing the
accident himself.  However, George's brother Jim had heard too many of his
brother's stories of how the company were always cutting corners at every
stage to save money, for him to believe the companies lies.  Jim had
befriended one of the office managers, and his friend Ted left Jim in his
office with an open file on his desk once, whilst Ted had gone to answer a
call of nature.  The memo that Jim read provided him with all the
ammunition that he required to sue the company for negligence.  The case
never reached the courts however, because a generous, though not exorbitant
settlement had been agreed out of court.  Jim wanted to have his day in
court, but Ted pointed out that if he was successful, it could mean the end
of the company, and Ted would be one of many who would face redundancy, so
Jim listened to reason, and agreed to take the money.  Ted said that the
company would undergo a thorough and regular overhaul by a team of safety
inspectors.  Ted assured him that these measures were sufficient to make
sure that such an accident couldn't happen again.  So Jim urged Penny,
George's widow to sign on the dotted line.

The family received a lump some, plus so much each month whilst the
children were still in full time education.  Given the fact that the Blake
family had lost its chief wage earner, they weren't rich following the
settlement, but they were protected against being destitute.

Penny took on a few extra hours at the local hospital where she worked as a
radiographer to help boost the family finances.  She had a large extended
family that mucked in to look after the boys when they weren't at school or
nursery.  The family coped, as many other families in similar situations
had to.

Penny, though a good loving mother, failed to thrive without a man by her
side.  From an early age, Chris seemed to grow automatically into the role
of 'man of the house'.  By the time he was fourteen, even his mother seemed
to defer to her eldest son.  Chris could have taken advantage of the power
that he seemed to wield, but that wasn't Chris's style.  He was honoured
that his mother had entrusted him with this role, and he treated the
position responsibly.

As Scott grew up he, like any normal boy fought against the boundaries that
Chris had put in place.  If Scott overstepped these, his older brother
questioned him, if Scott was found wanting, then God help the younger boy.

Once, when Scott was twelve-years old, he'd stolen a bottle of pop from old
Mrs Baker's sweet shop at the top of their road.  Mrs Baker was an old
woman who ran the shop to make her and her husbands state pension stretch a
little further.  Mrs Baker essentially ran the place on her own as her
husband was totally blind.  She had been dealing with another customer when
Scott came into the shop.  The bell above the door gave its usual loud
ping.  Mrs Baker raised her head at the noise, but seeing who it was, she
gave her attention back to the schoolgirl at the counter who couldn't
decide if she wanted to spend her 50p pocket money on gobstoppers or on a
bag of liquorice allsorts.

Mrs Baker heard the slight clink of glass bottles as Scott picked up a
litre of Dandelion and Burdock, but she was still helping out young Amanda
to decide on her choice of confection.  The door pinged again, Mrs Baker
raised her head once more but no one new had entered, and Scott had
disappeared.  Once Amanda had chosen and paid for her purchase, Mrs Baker
showed the pony tailed young lass to the door.  On her way back to the
counter she examined the boxes of soft drinks.  She had only just put out a
new case of Dandelion and Burdock that morning.  She knew that she'd sold a
bottle to a nice young man earlier that day, but there were two bottles
missing from the case.  Mrs Baker knew that she had only sold the one
bottle, so she spent the next few hours worrying about what action to take.

Like in any other small tight knit community, everyone knew pretty much
everyone else's business.  Far from being stifling or intrusive, the local
residents used this knowledge to look out for one another's welfare, if
someone hadn't been seen out in a couple of days, the alarm was raised, and
someone was sent to investigate.  If one of their number fell on hard
times, the neighbours would all rally round to lend their assistance.  Thus
Mrs Baker was fully aware of The Blake family's situation.  However, she
knew that Mrs Blake was an honourable woman, and she'd be horrified to
learn that her youngest son had stolen something, but stealing was
stealing, and Mrs Baker couldn't afford to let it pass.  She decided that
once she'd closed up that night, she'd go round and speak to Mrs Blake.

However, when Mrs Baker called, Penny was still working a shift at the
hospital.  Chris then aged sixteen, had only recently been given the
privilege of looking after the house in his mother's absence.  He'd cooked
his and Scott's tea earlier in the evening; Scott had washed the pots and
cleaned the kitchen afterwards.  Scott was upstairs doing his homework when
Mrs Baker's knock sounded.

Chris took her into the Parlour, a room reserved for use on Sundays, or to
entertain visitors.  Chris offered Mrs Baker a seat on the sofa.  Once the
pleasantries of asking the pensioner if she would take a cup of tea, and
enquiring after the health of Mr Baker had been observed, the subject of
her visit was raised.

"Chris, Scott came into the shop after school today.  He didn't buy
anything, and once he had left, I'm very sorry to say that I discovered
that a bottle of pop was missing from a box near the door."

Chris questioned the lady carefully about the incident.  He didn't want to
believe that his brother had stolen something, but the evidence was pretty
damning.

He promised that he would deal with the matter.  He offered to pay for the
missing article, but Mrs Baker had been struck by the teenager's earnest
sincerity and maturity, so she said that she was prepared to overlook the
matter this time.

With another promise that the situation would be firmly dealt with, Chris
let the old lady out of the front door.

>From his position upstairs Scott had seen Mrs Baker's arrival.  So it
didn't take much for him to guess that his dare had failed.

Normally visitors to the house would come to the side door and be welcomed
into the kitchen.  Regular guests wouldn't even bother to knock, they would
just call out as they entered.  However, the fact that Mrs Baker had
knocked at the front door didn't bode well for Scott.

Scott heard his brother's measured tread as he climbed the stairs, then he
heard the squeaky floorboard that was a couple of feet from Scott's room.
Scott came out in a light sweat.

Chris tapped lightly on his brother's door.  Not waiting for an invitation
to enter, Chris pushed open the already partially opened door.  Normally
the three family members waited till they were invited to 'come in' before
entering a room.  Again the omission of this courtesy increased Scott's
unease.

"Have you almost finished your homework Scott?"  Chris asked evenly.

Scott dared not look into his brother's face, he answered with his face
still in his English textbook.  In truth Scott had not been able to absorb
any of the information from the book since Mrs Baker's arrival.

"Yes C-C-C-C-Chris I've f-f-f-f-finished."  Scott said closing his book.
Scott had suffered from a stammer from an early age.  This affected his
life greatly.  He was rarely able to get out his words when in public, this
caused the boy a great deal of shame and embarrassment, Scott drew more and
more into himself, growing into a recluse.  At school, the teacher would
often ask questions of the class.  Scott almost always knew the answers,
but he just couldn't raise his hand, because that would mean he had to
speak.  So Scott often sat there quietly growing increasingly angry with
himself for being a coward, hating his affliction.

However, in his home environment, surrounded by people whom Scot knew loved
him, he rarely stammered.  Therefore it was a testament to his unease that
he had stuttered during his answer to his brother.

"Good because I need to have a word with you."  Chris sat himself down on
the edge of Scott's bed.  Without being told Scott got up from his chair at
the desk and came to stand in front of his brother.

"I've just been speaking to Mrs Baker."  Chris paused to allow himself time
to phrase his questions.  "Scott, did you go into the shop this afternoon?"

Not trusting his voice, Scott nodded.

"Did you buy anything whilst you were there?"

Scott shook his head in the negative.

Again Chris paused.  "Scott, did you take a bottle of pop from Mrs Baker's
shop today?"

"N-N-N-No."

Chris fixed an icy glare on his brother.  Scott dropped his head, but Chris
put his hand under his twelve-year-old brothers chin and raised his
brother's head again.

"Scott, I'll ask you again.  Did you take something from that shop?"

Scott began to quake, he didn't want to lie to his brother, but that was
all tied up with the dare, Scott had promised not to tell.

"N-N-N-No C-C-C-Chris, I d-d-d-d-didn't take anything."

Chris stared at his brother's frightened expression.  In a cold icy voice,
which stabbed Scott through the heart Chris said quietly "Scott you are
lying.  As far as I know you have never lied to me in the past, and Scott
it hurts me that you are lying now."

"N-N-No."

"Don't make it worse by lying again."  Chris said loudly.  He'd never
raised his voice to his brother before.

That did it, Scott burst into tears and he tried to hug his much larger
older brother.  Scott hadn't developed in the same physical way as his
sixteen-year old sibling.  Although Scott had the same sandy blonde hair,
and blue eyes, they didn't have the same build.

Chris pushed his brother's arms away.  He couldn't offer comfort to Scott,
not after being lied to.  This denial of affection hurt Scott deeply.  He
had few friends due to his enforced solitude, and usually Chris was always
there for him.  Someone who Scott could gain acceptance, love and a sense
of self-worth from, but just at that moment, this channel, one of the few
things that made Scott's life bearable was closed off to him.  Chris was
not fully aware of the power that he held over his brother.  Though through
the next few years he would find out.

"Scott, why did you lie to me?"  Chris asked.  There was still some ice in
his voice.

"B-B-B-B-Because it was a d-d-d-dare."

"I don't understand?"  Chris said, genuinely shocked.

Scott went on to hesitatingly tell the story of how during morning break,
Tony Painter, a boy a year senior to Scott, had invited him to be in his
gang.  Scott, a boy who was desperate to be accepted by his peers jumped at
the chance of being part of a group.  However, he soon learned that in
order to join, he would have to steal something from the Baker's sweet
shop.

Scott liked Mrs Baker; she always smiled at him when he went into her shop.
She usually had a pleasant word for him, asking how he and his brother
were.  Of course Scott, when talking about his older brother whom he
admired and loved more than any other man alive, was able to speak to the
kindly lady without stumbling over his words.

So it had troubled Scott for the rest of that school day.  Did he want to
join the gang and be part of a group of friends, or did his loyalty to a
kind lady weigh the heaviest.  Scott couldn't concentrate on his lessons
that day.  He thought he had come up with a solution; he'd pay for the
bottle of pop, but tell the gang that he'd stolen it.  His big brother
Chris always made sure he had enough spending money in his pocket before
Scott was packed off to School each morning.

However Tony had thought of this possibility.  Just before Scott entered
the sweet shop, Tony made the younger boy turn out his pockets.  So Scott
had to go into the shop minus this lifeline.  Although he hated the idea of
stealing, he knew that it was wrong, he did it so he could be part of
Tony's gang.

However, once Scott had emerged from the shop and handed over the bottle,
he was told by a grinning Tony that he didn't want a freak in his gang
after all.  Tony went off laughing with his mates leaving a totally
distraught Scott on the pavement.  Tony hadn't even returned Scott's
spending money.

"Okay Scott thank you."  Chris said once Scott had ground to a tearful
halt.  "Scott stealing is wrong, it's always wrong.  I'm sorry little
brother but lying to me is even more wrong.  I've always looked after you
and loved you haven't I?"  Chris said the latter as he raised Scott's chin
again to look directly into his eyes.

"Y-Y-Y-Yes C-C- Chris. You have."

"I'm sorry little brother, I can understand the position you were in, but
it doesn't excuse the fact that you did wrong does it?"

Scott shook his head.

"I'm sorry Scott, but I'll have to spank you for the things you did wrong."

Scott was stunned at hearing those words.  Chris had never struck him
before.  All he'd ever gotten from Chris was love and acceptance.  Scott
stuttered for a long time, trying to get out his objection, his mind was in
a whirl, it seemed like his whole life was spinning out of control.  He'd
screwed up his courage that day to join a gang, he'd stolen from someone
whom he respected, and worst of all he'd hurt his big brother, and now that
self same big brother was going to physically punish him.

Eventually Scott managed to get out that he would rather tell their mum
about it and have her punish him.  He didn't speak out loud the fact that
he didn't want his idol to discipline him.

"No Scott, mum has enough to deal with, she has to work long hours at the
hospital, and the last thing she needs is to come back to a family
dispute."  Scott still protested his punishment.  "Scott, if you mention it
to mum, she'll worry, and then she'll ask me to spank you.  You know she
will.  And then I'll be forced to spank you more because you hurt mum too."

Scott thought about Chris's words.  'Yes Chris was right.  Their mum would
worry,' and Scott didn't want to add to her burden.

"Okay C-C-C-Chris."  Scott eventually conceded.

Chris, not wanting to prolong this any longer than was strictly necessary,
told his brother to take down his trousers and underpants.  A now totally
defeated and humiliated Scott slowly complied.

Chris directed his younger brother to lie across his left knee; Chris then
closed his own legs trapping Scott's much smaller legs between his own.
Chris placed his left arm across Scott's back, holding him down firmly.
Chris then delivered four short, but hard smacks two on each of Scott's
arse cheeks.  Scott had cried out with the force, pain and humiliation,
which had accompanied each blow.

Chris looked down on his brother's now reddened cheeks.  He gazed at his
handiwork, a mixture of emotions going through his head.  He'd never had to
strike his younger brother before, and he hoped he'd never have to do it
again, because the most overwhelming feeling Chris felt was one of
enjoyment.  It disturbed him greatly that he'd derived pleasure from
hurting his younger sibling.

Chris released his hold on Scott, the latter who was now crying openly fled
to the bathroom.  Chris remained seated on Scott's bed mulling over what
he'd done.  Another thing that had disturbed Chris was the fact that he now
had a raging hard on.  He'd also felt Scott's own tool pushing into his leg
whilst he was delivering the blows.  All this confused the sixteen-year
old.

Chris rose and walked to the bathroom to see if Scott was all right.  The
younger boy hadn't locked the door, Chris was glad to see.  Chris knocked;
all he could here were his brother's sobs.

"Scott, may I come in?"

There was a long pause, then Scott said "Yes." in such a quiet voice, Chris
had to strain to hear it.

Chris entered the small room.  Scott couldn't meet his brother's eyes.  But
Scott had to ask a question, he greatly feared the answer, but he had to
ask it anyway.  Without looking up Scott screwed up every ounce of courage
that he had and asked, amazingly without stammering, "Chris, do you still
love me?"

Chris paused for a moment; Scott began to fear the worst at hearing no
reply. "Scott, at the moment I don't particularly like you, but you are,
and you'll always be my little brother, and I'll always love you."

The response was a little less than Scott had wanted, but it wasn't the
rejection that he'd feared.  Scott flung himself at Chris.  He hoped with
everything he had that Chris wouldn't turn him away this time.  Fortunately
Chris hugged his younger brother in a tight comforting hold.  Although
Scott had been reassured by his brother's words, his actions spoke far
louder as far as he was concerned.

"Thank you Chris.  I love you, and I'm so sorry for doing wrong.  I promise
you I'll never disappoint you ever again."  Scott meant it; he couldn't go
through all that pain again.  Although he didn't have many friends at
school, and he might have ruined his chances with Mrs Baker, he could live
with that so long as he still had his Chris.

"Scott, I'm still very disappointed with you.  I've agreed with Mrs Baker a
course of action.  For the rest of the week, you'll spend an hour in the
shop helping her out."

Scott was a little afraid to face Mrs Baker again, but his big brother had
spoken, and he couldn't disobey him.

However Chris's next statement threw Scott into despair once more.  "Scott
I want you to sleep in your own bed for the next couple of nights too."

Scott's face went white, he began to tremble, he wasn't sure if he could
cope with that.  Such a denial of his usual nocturnal physical contact from
his sibling was far worse than any humiliation or beating which Chris could
inflict.

"Noooooo!  Oh C-C-C-C-Chris no."

Scott prostrated himself on the bathroom floor with his arms wrapped around
Chris's legs.  Chris was disturbed by his brother's strong reaction, but
Chris had a lot to think about that night, he had to work through his
feelings following the spanking, and now this.

Chris managed to get Scott back on his feet and calmed down, but he was
still insistent on the nocturnal separation.  As it was almost Scott's
bedtime, Chris told his brother to get changed for bed, and he'd come in in
a minute to tuck him in.

Chris wasn't aware of the depths of his brother's depression, he just
thought Scott was play-acting in order to gain attention.  So he patted his
brother's still tender bottom and pushed him into his bedroom.

A few minutes later he entered Scott's room carrying a glass of milk and a
few biscuits.  Scott was turned to the wall; he didn't acknowledge Chris's
presence in any way.  Chris put this down to Scott merely sulking, but in
truth Scott felt that his world was coming to an end.

Chris left his brother's room and padded along the landing to his own bed.
He knew that his mother was due home soon; he didn't feel as though he
could face her that night though.  He took the line of 'what she didn't
know wouldn't hurt her.  So Chris closed his bedroom door and got out his
History textbook.  Chris had started at the sixth-form college a few months
earlier.  He was still becoming accustomed to the strange study environment
at the college.  At school, they were made to work, everything they did was
scrutinised closely.  However, the lecturers at the college told the
bemused students on the first day that it was up to them how much they
studied.  If they didn't work, they wouldn't pass, the blame for not
passing would rest at their own door.  Though Chris was gratified to learn
that any student who needed help, only had to ask, and help would be given
to them.  Chris thought it unlikely that he'd need help, but he was
comforted to learn that it was there should he need it.

The events of the day weighed heavily on Chris's mind.  He heard his mother
come in, perform her usual nightly rituals downstairs, then he heard her
come up the stairs, use the bathroom and go into her own room.  Chris tried
to settle down to sleep, but sleep eluded him.  He turned over, punched his
pillows, but still he couldn't settle.  In truth he was missing the
comforting and loving warmth of his younger brother who normally shared his
bed.

Not long after their father died, Chris had taken it upon himself to look
after Scott.  Although as a six year old, Chris couldn't put into words why
he adopted this role of protector, all he knew was that he needed the
reassurance that someone loved him, and he also believed that Scott was in
need of love too.  So almost from the time of the funeral, the boys had
slept together.  At first Penny was a little concerned, but she soon grew
to accept the arrangement.  She didn't like sleeping in the large marital
bed alone, so she changed rooms with Chris, so Chris now occupied the
master bedroom with Scott seemingly glued permanently to his older
brother's side.  This arrangement had persisted until this night, the night
that Chris had taken a hand to his brother.

Chris thought that wanking himself off might help him sleep.  In truth,
sharing a bed with a younger brother meant that Chris could rarely indulge
in this, the most favourite of teenage pastimes.  So Chris stroked his
impressive manhood to climax.  He reviewed his feelings towards Scott, and
just before he shot his load all over his chest, he remembered the feelings
he'd gotten as he was spanking Scott's rear.  This caused an eruption of
semen in a greater quantity than Chris had ever ejaculated before.

Chris lay spent on his back for a few moments coming down from his high.
He'd never had such a satisfying wank before.  As the pools of cum cooled
and became uncomfortable, Chris reached down to the side of his bed and
retrieved his underpants to wipe up the mess.  He was only partially
successful in his clean up, so he loosely tied a dressing gown around
himself, and went into the bathroom to complete the process.

Once this had been accomplished, he walked back to his own room.  However,
he still couldn't settle to sleep.  He was forced to concede that he missed
Scott's body lying next to him.  After another half hour of tossing and
turning, Chris put on his dressing gown again and quietly made his way into
Scott's room.

Chris noticed with concern that the glass of milk and the plate of biscuits
had been left untouched.  Normally Scott had such a healthy appetite.

Scott was lying on his bed; he was curled up in a ball with his head
resting on his large teddy bear.  Chris thought it strange that Humphrey
the bear was wearing one of Chris's T-shirts.  Of course the shirt was far
too big for the bear, but it touched Chris deeply that Scott still needed
to be close to something belonging to his brother.

Although Scott was pretending to be asleep, Chris had heard Scott's
breathing patterns for too long to be fooled.  Chris gently placed one of
his hands between Scott's shoulder blades and began to rub in a circular
motion.

"I'm sorry little brother.  Would you please come back and sleep in my bed?
I shouldn't have made you sleep alone."

Scott turned his tear stained face to his idol.  Scott still dare not trust
what his ears had just told him.  The last couple of hours of Scott's life
had been without question the worst he'd ever faced.

"Sorry Chris, what did you say?"  Scott said pretending to just be emerging
from sleep.

Chris repeated his words, all the while maintaining his rubbing motion on
Scott's back.

Scott sat up and held his arms out for his big brother to hug him.  Chris
didn't hesitate; he wrapped his arms round his younger sibling.  Chris
tried to project all the love he could muster through that physical bond.
After a couple of minutes, Chris released the hug and took Scott's hand and
led him to Chris's room.

Back in Chris's bed Scott spoke.  "I love you Chris, I'll never ever stop
loving you again."  In point of fact Scott had for a brief time tried to
stop loving Chris, the thought had terrified him though.


"And I'll always love you too my little brov."

With Chris using those three words of endearment, Scott knew that
everything would be all right.

The next day Chris exacted his revenge on Tony Painter.  Though not
normally a violent person, if anyone hurt his family, Chris would go into
full protect mode, and defend his charges with a ferocity that even
startled Chris.

After pushing the thirteen-year old Tony against a wall in the schoolyard
that afternoon, Chris extracted an apology out of the boy, with a promise
that if Tony or any of his gang tried to get back at Scott for Chris's
intervention, Chris would come back and mete out some real punishment.
Tony was one of those bullies that if stood up to, would crumble
immediately.  A sobbing Tony promised that he would never harm Scott.

* * * * **

The years fled by.  Although Scott tested the boundaries a few more times,
he didn't step over them, and he certainly never lied to his Chris.

As both boys matured, Chris began to realise the power that he held over
those around him.  At first it frightened him, he wasn't sure if he could
deal with the responsibility.  However, after seeking wise counsel from the
town's resident doctor, Chris accepted his role in life, and began to
relish the position that many people placed him in.

Larry Finch was the General Practitioner for the town.  He and his domestic
partner Eric; the town dentist lived a quiet existence.  They didn't hide
their homosexuality, but they didn't flaunt it either.

Larry had made a study of the Alpha Male syndrome, and always kept a quiet
look out for any potential candidates.  Chris first really came to the
man's attention when at aged sixteen.  Chris knew at that age that he too
was gay, and knowing of Dr Finch's own homosexuality, Chris went to see the
older man for guidance.

Larry knew Chris slightly; the youth was an active lad, receiving treatment
for innumerable grazed knees and the like.  When Chris came to see Larry
during afternoon surgery one day, the doctor asked Chris if he would mind
going back into the waiting room till he'd seen all his other patients,
then the two could go to the flat upstairs and have a chat.  Chris readily
agreed, so Larry waded through the usual round of sore throats, arthritic
knee joints and requests for sick notes.

Once the last patient had departed holding a prescription for
Multi-vitamins, there was nothing wrong with the patient, but Mrs Trellis,
who had moved from North Wales when her husband died in a mining accident,
was one of Larry's regulars.  The old dear was rather lonely, so she looked
to the kindly doctor to relieve her sense of isolation.  However, Larry was
trying to get through his list on time that afternoon, so after a few
minutes of listening to the usual tale of woe, Larry told the old lady that
she was in need "Of a little pick me up."  So he wrote out a script for the
vitamins, and pushed the still talking old dear out of the door.

"So Christopher.  You think that you might be gay?"

"Yes Doc, I've suspected for quite a while now, but as you and Mr Townsend
are the only gay people I know, I thought I should come round and talk to
you."

The two held an animated conversation for about half an hour before Eric,
Larry's partner came home from work.  The two older men offered to have
Chris stay for dinner, but Chris had to get home, as Scott would start to
worry if he didn't get back soon.

The three made a date to talk again later in the week.  That conversation
helped Chris enormously to sort out his feelings.  The three continued to
meet on a regular basis.  Once Chris reached the legal drinking age of 18,
they would often have a stroll down to the pub and continue their
discussions there.  Although initially the doctor and dentist had a sexual
attraction to Chris, this soon grew into love.  The kind of love that a
father has for a son.  Of course as Chris had no father, the relationship
wasn't a one-way thing.

After spanking Scott, Chris explored his mixed and disturbing emotions with
his surrogate fathers.  They helped him work through his issues and
eventually Larry discussed the concept of the alpha male with him.  Many of
the characteristics seemed familiar to Chris.

When Chris reached twenty years of age, he confided to his fathers that he
was in love with his younger brother.  This for Chris was a hard admission
to make.  Of course he had always loved Scott as a brother, but over the
months and years, he recognised that his love was much deeper than
brotherly love.

Larry questioned him about what Scott's reaction would be if Chris declared
his feelings to Scott.

"I know that Scott loves me totally.  It honestly frightens me.  I know it
sounds a bit boastful, but Scott worships me."

Chris told the couple that if Chris happened to wake quietly on a morning,
he would often find Scott gently stroking his brother's penis.  Though as
soon as Chris made the usual waking noises, Scott would release his hold.

"Larry, Eric I'm frightened about telling Scott how I feel.  You see I fear
Scott's reaction.  Oh I know it won't be negative, but can I cope with his
overwhelming love for me?  At the moment he holds it in check.  Basically
guys what I'm saying is that I don't know if I'm good enough for Scott.
Would he be better off finding another boy?"

"Are you afraid of having an incestuous relationship with him?"  Larry
asked.

"Oh no, it isn't that.  I'm just worried if I'd be the right man for him."

"Chris, you'd be the right man for half the gay guys in Greenville, and I
suspect many mother's would love to get you down the Aisle with their
daughters too?"

Chris laughed.  "Yeah your right.  I get so many offers from girls, and
requests from their mother's, to come round for tea.  I'm friends with a
few girls, I've even been on dates with some, but I never get serious with
them."

"And I imagine that makes you even more endearing to the mothers."  Eric
put in.

"Yeah it does 'Oh he's such a nice boy our Sandra, you should set your cap
at him' God it's embarrassing."

"How does Scott react when you take a girl out?"

"Oh he hates it.  He tries to hide it, but I know it hurts him."

"Chris, I think you have to tell him.  I know Scott is only 16, and legally
he isn't old enough to have gay sex, but I think you would do more harm
than good by delaying things any longer."

"Yeah I think I've delayed as long as I can, I didn't want to force myself
on Scott.  I knew years ago that he had a close bond to me, I just didn't
want to force him to love me in that way, and he's got such a submissive
personality."

"Oh Chris, it's as obvious as the nose on your face that he loves you in
'that way' you only have to look at him when he gazes at you, it's
beautiful.  I wish Larry still looked at me that way."

"Oh you bitch.  I've had eyes only for you for the past twenty years."

"Well your eye-sight is going."  Eric said as he dodged a cushion that was
being thrown at him.  "See, his aim is out too."

* * * * * *

The twenty-year-old Chris was still sitting on his bed, with the same
quandary about his younger brother playing through his mind.

Chris heard the back door being closed downstairs.  Scott was home.  Chris
new then what he had to do.  He stood up, squared his shoulders, and he
made his way downstairs to face the music.

To be continued.