Birthday Boy

Author's note: all characters are consenting adults, and all major events happened after they were over 18 years old.

*****

I.

I've waited long for this, for the time I could get him to sleep with me.

It was my birthday, the day I turned twenty-three.

Our parents were out of town for work and I was home alone, with no real plans to celebrate.

"Don't worry about me," I told them when they phoned to check back on the house. "Max will come over later. I'll be fine."

Max is my older brother who lived next town. He is six years older than me, so he was already pushing 30's back then.

I loved him more than anything in the whole world. He was my everything.

I was always the shy, introvert kind of child, always at odds with our parents. But no matter how bad things ever got for me, or how much trouble I'd get into, he was always there to protect me and cheer me up.

His presence filled up all my days; we were always together, and I got used to relying on him for everything. If I needed help with homework or a friend to play with, he would fulfill every role with tender love and kindness.

He'd thought off joining the army so he worked out often, which made him muscular and strong. He shaved his hair in the military style and it fit him so well, he never went back to have it long again. It was a pity because it would, otherwise, grow curly and bouncy like mine.

It was the only thing we had in common. We looked nothing alike: he had intense black eyes, and mine were honey-brown. His skin was rich tanned and dark, and I was sickly pale. His features were strong and defined; with a square jaw and prominent cheekbones, a straight nose and plump lips. I looked like a mice. He was taller than most kids his age, and I was always the smallest one in a group. We couldn't have been more different if we tried, both in looks and personality.

He was all I could never be: good at sports, outstanding in school and popular among girls and guys alike. He was a perfect child in our parent's eyes while I gave them nothing but trouble. But I never cared how much they—or everyone, for that matter—favored him over me. He was my hero, and from an early age, I accepted that being in love with him was a natural part of myself.

The day he moved out of the house to go to college was the saddest day of my life.

We had never been apart before, and now he was going far away to another city, with other people and other friends, to do other things that didn't involve me, and left me behind with our parents who didn't want me and who could never understand me.

Without him, I had nothing.

I dropped out of high school. I had no friends, no talents or interest, and couldn't find a job. No amount of therapy worked for me, and eventually, everyone gave up on me. All I did was play video games all day and think of Max. It drove my parents crazy but, after a while, they too stopped caring and resumed their own busy lives.

I hated life, and I didn't end things there because I could still see him during the holidays when he would come back to see us. I'd force him to stay up all night, telling me stories of his life in the city, the girls he's dated, and the things he's done. And he'd comply, though I started noticing as years went by how much colder and distant he was growing towards me. That hurt, and made me resentful, to the point I couldn't hide it anymore.

"Do I annoy you?" I asked him once after Christmas dinner, the year I turned eighteen. We were getting ready for bed, and he refused to sleep in the same room as me. That year I had also come out to my family and let them know I was gay, which our parents didn't took well. "Do I ask too many questions? I'll stop, if you want."

"I'm tired, that's all," he ruffled my hair. It was his special way to pet me when he wanted to make me feel better. "I must be getting old. I don't have the same energy as before."

"We don't have to talk. We don't have to do anything at all. I just want to be with you."

To this day, I still can't describe the pain in his expression. It was as if a deep sorrow ate him from the inside, and he tried hard not to show it. But I could read him like an open book, and I knew he'd somehow found out my true feelings for him.

"Ken, I'm worried about you," he said. "I can't be here for you forever. You have to grow up and take care of yourself. You have to find a way to be happy and live a normal life like everyone else does."

"Like you do?" My voice had a bit more sharpness in it than I had intended, "Sleep around and get wasted every weekend?"

"That's not what I-"

"You don't love me anymore, do you? Am I a burden to you like I am to everyone else?"

"No one thinks that of you."

"You do, that's why you left me in the first place," my eyes filled with tears. I've never experienced a break up before, but this must have been what it felt like. "You've changed Max. I don't know what I did so wrong to make you this angry but if I can fix it, I'll do anything. Why are you so mean to me?"

He ruffled my hair again. But this time, it wasn't to comfort me. He was saying goodbye.

"I can't be what you want me to be," He said. "I'm sorry."

That was the last time we had a private conversation.

After that, whenever we were left alone in a room, he'd make up some excuse to leave. Visits became more and more sporadic until eventually, he stopped coming home altogether. Even after he graduated college and got a job near our home town, he still wouldn't come to see me. No matter how hard I tried, no one would give me his address and phone number.

I wanted to die.

But just as I was about to give up on life already, something happened that ignited my hopes of getting his love back.

The year I turned twenty-two, during summer break, he tried to fuck me in my sleep.

II

"Max helped build a nice little camping zone at the edge of town. He'll take us to see it today."

It was another boring Saturday morning. My mother, who rarely ever spoke to me, serve a bowl of cereal for me in an attempt to be nicer, for a change. But I couldn't even get surprised about it. His name, rarely mentioned at home anymore, woke me back to my senses from my usual lethargy.

"Max is coming home?"

"Not exactly. We'll meet with him at the camping park and stay there for the night. All his co-workers and their families will be there, and I want us to make a good impression. He worked so hard on this project...you understand how important this is for him, don't you? You have to behave."

"Ken will be Ken," said dad from the other side of the table, eyes glued to his newspaper. "Not so much we can do about that."

"I won't do anything to embarrass you, I promise!" I pushed the cereal bowl away. Food came second when came about him."When do we leave? How much should I pack? Oh, I have to take a shower!"

"Yes, you do," she pressed a hand to my shoulder to force me to sit back down. "But eat first, you are so thin people would think we don't give you anything to eat here."

"Well, you rarely do."

She smacked the back of my head with her open palm. I've forgotten how heavy mom's hands were; she'd given up on hitting me like that a long time ago.

"There's always food here, you ungrateful child. If you decide not to cook that's on you. Seriously, this boy..."

I ignored the rest of her words, nothing mattered anymore. After all this time, I was going to see Max and that was all I could care about.

I shove down the cereal and went straight to shower, the longest I'd taken in years. I even shaved, though I didn't have much facial hair to begin with. Still, I had to look my best for him if I wanted us to talk and fix whatever had gone wrong between us. Maybe things could go back to how they were when he still loved me.

We could even have sex.

Because that's what people do when they love each other, right?

I never understood why did he had to go away to sleep with other girls when he had me home all along. I would let him use me all night, every night. I would let him mount me and pound my butt and use it to come until he was satisfied. I would let him use my mouth and force me to swallow his cum until my belly was full. He could do whatever he wanted to me. I could be his girlfriend if he needed one and then he wouldn't have to leave again.

But I'd forgotten this thoughts were the very same ones that drove him away from me in the first place, when he discovered I loved him.

No, Max would never fuck me. All I had left was to play with dildos and jerk off to pictures of him.

If only fantasies could come true.

III

"So you must be Max's family, huh?

A pretty red-haired woman greeted us by the park's entry. She had a nice, gentle smile and was holding on her arms a baby boy just as red-haired as her. Her name tag read "Tammy" written in blue sharpie, and she was in charge of welcoming everyone in.

"Yes. Where is he?" Mom replied. Tammy's eyes meet mine as I looked over mom' shoulder, desperate to catch a glimpse of him.

"Oh, You must be the little brother he's always talking about." she said, her lips curling again on an assuring smile. "Ken, right?"

"He talks about me?" I was as surprised as anyone else to hear this. We have all pretty much taken for granted he preferred not to be associated with me.

"He sure does. He's are pretty much the only thing he talks about. It must be nice to have such a caring brother. I'll call him for you." She turned around to face the group behind her, and called out to him."Max, come over!"

He was far in the back where the men were setting up the tents. I waved my hand at him even before he saw us, and mom elbowed me on the ribs to get me to behave. One misstep, and she would sent me back home alone. I was too afraid I may not contain myself and that I would throw myself at his arms and kiss him, so I hid behind dad as Max approached us. I thought he would be happy to see me, but even though he hugged mom and dad, he avoided me and barely greeted me.

"So nice to get to see your family at last," Tammy said to him, "You talk so much about them."

"Do I? I don't think I do. Anyway, this way guys I'll show you where we are staying."

The rest of the day transpired without much action. I turned out to be useless in cooking and tent setting, so I sat on a bench to watch from afar as they all had fun and laughed. It didn't escape my observation that all his co-workers had shown up with their spouses or dates. Max was the only one who was alone.

"Are you old enough to drink?"

Someone approached me from behind and dangled a cold can of beer in front of my eyes. It was a guy named George, one of his co-workers, the one I've seen talking to Max the most all thru the day.

"I turned twenty-two last month." I grabbed the beer, relieved to have someone to talk to. He sat next to me on the grass, helping himself to another beer from the cooler he carried. He also had a nice, gentle smile and reddish-brown hair.

"Sorry I had to ask. I mean, you do look a bit grown up but the way Max talks about you, I thought you were still a kid."

"I guess I'm still a kid in his eyes. I'm as useless as one."

He looked me up and down, analyzing me with curiosity. It made me uncomfortable, but I endured it.

"I've been friends with your brother for a while now," he said after a pause where we both drank in silence. "My wife and I have. He's a great guy; one hell of a catch. I don't swing that way but even I admit he's easy on the eye."

"Yes, I guess he is."

"But he's never married. Has no kids. I haven't heard of him dating anyone in years. Why is he so unlucky in love?"

"I don't know."

He winked at me playfully and finished his beer. Tammy gestured him to go over to her, and I understood he must have been her husband.

"Listen, I don't swing that way and I'm already committed. But if I did—and if I wasn't—I wouldn't mind keeping a sweet boy like you all to myself. Can't blame Max for feeling the way he does."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Max talks a bit too much when he's drunk," his voice had a mischievous tone to it that I wasn't sure how to interpret. "Here, keep them. I bet you'll find a way to use them."

He gave me the rest of his beers, winked again and left to join his wife while I stayed behind pondering what it all meant.

What if Max wasn't ignoring me because he hated me? What if there was another reason for his cold way to act towards me?

What has he told his friends when he was drunk? What was this whole thing about?

I resolved I wouldn't let the day end before I had an answer. And for the first time, luck was on my side.

IV

"Your dad is not feeling well. I'm taking him to the hospital."

It was night time already. I hadn't cross one word with my brother, and families were getting ready for bed. But Dad ate something that made him ill and he and mom decided to leave, so mom called us aside to let us know.

"Is it serious?" Max asked her.

"Of course not. He'll be fine soon but you know how dramatic he acts when he's sick. Ken, come over I'll take you back home."

"Wait, mom," I protested as she pulled me by the arm. "I don't want to leave. I want to stay."

"Don't be silly, you are not made for camping."

"All we'll do is roast marshmallows and head to bed. Please let me stay."

I turned to him and gave him a supplicant look, hoping he would convince her. All he did was shrug as if he couldn't care less one way or the other.

"It's okay. Let him stay."

Mom let go of me, but I could see on her face she was still unsure about it.

"But-"

"I said let him stay."

My surprise was as big as hers. He's defended me from her in the past, but I've never seen him talk to her like that before, so authoritative. It worked, and she gave a heavy sigh while shaking her head.

"Alright. Don't say I didn't warn you."

With that, she left, and we went back to join the rest of the group. We sat by the fire and I handed him one of the beers I've been keeping cool for him. He avoided looking at me and his body was tense, but I could not take my eyes off his handsome profile.

"I can sleep alone if you want," I said keeping my voice low so no one could hear us. "Or I could stay with someone else."

"Don't say that."

"But I don't want to force you to do something you don't want to do, and you evidently don't want to be here with me."

"If I didn't, I wouldn't have told mom to let you stay."

"Yeah, but what's the point if you won't talk to me?"

I reached out to touch his hand, but he slapped me away. Everyone's eyes turned to us, and I I felt my face growing hotter, embarrassed of acting so careless in front of everyone.

"No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that," he ruffled my hair a bit more roughly than usual. It was awkward and didn't felt nice at all. "It's just...is best if you don't touch me, okay? I don't want to hurt you."

"How could you ever hurt me?"

But he didn't answer. He just kept drinking, and by the time we decided to go to sleep, he'd finished down full eight beers.

V.

We got into the tent he'd set for us. He was drunk, and I had to help him get in and sit down on the sleeping bag.

The air inside was hot and stuffy, Max's sweat was too strong and it inundated the place, and his breath smelled of liquor. I could have let the tent open to get some fresh air, but then again, I needed all the privacy I could get if I was going to get him to open up to me.

"Here, let me help you change,". I grabbed the end of his shirt to pull it off, but he pushed me away. Even as drunk as he was, he would still not let me get close. "Fine. I won't touch you then."

I turned to search for my pajamas in my bag. The only light came from a faint electric lamp he'd set on the floor, so I couldn't find my pants. I would have to sleep on my shirt and boxers. I was not in the habit of shaving my body, and my legs were covered on thin, long hair. It made me self conscious, so I sat next to him intending to cover them up with the sleeping bag. But I noticed something:

He just wouldn't stop looking at them.

Nor between them, to the bulge in my boxers.

He bit his lower lip and his face was contorted on a tortuous expression that I wasn't sure what to make off. Was he worried about me getting cold? Was he disgusted by our proximity?

All I could do was try to pressure him for answers.

"Are you sure you don't want me to sleep somewhere else?" I said, "Your friends said I could share their tent. You don't have to be with me if you don't want to."

"I do want to. That is the problem."

"What do you mean?"

He ran his hand to the back of my head and brought our foreheads together, almost as if to kiss me, but he held back.

"You are so beautiful, Ken."

"Me? Beautiful?"

No one had ever considered me attractive, even less beautiful. So I couldn't take him serious when he said this, yet, as if wanted to convince me of it, he rested his head on my shoulder, and for a moment, I thought I felt his lips on my neck.

"So beautiful. So damn fragile and beautiful. When we're this close, I can't hold back the love I feel for you."

"You love me?"

"I do. I love you so much, it drives me crazy. That's why I can't be with you."

"Why?"

"I was too afraid of what I might do to you if I stayed around. When did I stopped seeing you as my little brother and started wanting something else? My hole life I only wanted protect you. I never imagine I'd end up having to protect you from me."

I hugged him, and he pressed his body to mine forcing me to lay down on the sleeping bag under him. My heart beat crazy fast.

"Are you scared of me?" He whispered in my ear.

"No, not at all."

I wanted to say much more, so much more but words wouldn't come out.

And just as I thought he was going to go further, he passed out on top of me.

Of course, just my luck. If only I hadn't make him drink that last beer. Why couldn't I make anything right?

I pushed him off of me and got him to lay on his side so I could spoon in his arms. My body fit perfectly into his, If only the night would never end, we could stay this close forever.

Suddenly, he surrounded my waits with one arm and pulled me closer to get me to sit on his cock. I kept my eyes close, and forced my breathing to remain slow and paused as if I was sleeping.

the clinking of his zipper going down, followed by slapping, wet noises as he jerked his own dick furiously.

My ass twitched in anticipation and my dick was so hard, but I didn't touch it. If I moved even a bit, it would scare him and he wouldn't finish.

He was panting from the effort, sniffing my hair from time to time and grunting low. He rubbed rubbing himself of me, and poked his cock's head between my thighs trying to fit in.

That was too much for me. I whimpered a bit, and he placed hand over my mouth to silence me.

"Shh...don't move, don't make a sound. Go back to sleep, pretend this is all a dream."

I did as he ordered me, but my dick was so hard it going to explode. He turned me over on my stomach and got on top of me, keeping his hand over my mouth to muffle the moans I could not repress. I found myself at his mercy, so hopeless in his arms, and that drove me to my limit.

He kept jerking off on top of me, and lift my shirt up to fill my skin. From time to time, he rubbed his cock in my butt over my boxers. I raised my hips to make him understand I wanted him in. My dick was dripping pre-cum. Why couldn't he just give up and fuck me already_

"Ken...Ken, I love you, I love you..."

Grunting like a mad wolf, he came on the exposed part of my lower back, where the fabric of my boxers started. His cum dripped off my body and yet, he had even more for me. He inserted his dick between my tights from behind with slow but firm motions, used them to come again. I gave up faking sleep and touched myself as well while he did.