Date: Sun, 05 Jan 2003 00:22:56 -0600 From: Matthew Wellesley 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.