Disclaimer: The characters portrayed within this work of fiction are my own. I apologize for any similarities to persons in the real world.


Trust Me
By: Rubedo Jr.


When dealing with an older brother, there are a few things to keep in mind. The older the brother is, the more often their pranks will succeed. They can feign innocence with professional charm and adults will take their word as truth. They will always have one more secret, one more trick, and one more scheme.

For them, time is just a game and patience is the ace up their sleeve.


It all started three days ago. It was an unassuming day – the sun was out, there were few clouds in the sky, and there was this perfect breeze…

The perfect oversized t-shirt, gym shorts, and videogame day, even if I had to spend time with my older brother. Unfortunately, there are only so many things that we can agree on.

"It's my console, my room, my rules!" I shouted at my brother, who was smirking at me. His stupid, curly emerald green hair – dyed, of course – seemed to bask in his amusement, making his piercing brown eyes stand out even more. Eyes crinkled in laughter, all at my expense – as usual.

"Oh? Then we'll play rock-paper-scissors. First one to score gets to chose," he replied in his too-cool way, smirk firmly in place, and I nodded.

Fortunately, this is one of them.

My name is Dyne Demeti, and this is my story. I'm a sixth grader and the jerk is my older brother, Gabe. He's a senior and he's always acting so cool, calm, and collected...he's such a jerk.

For us, everything is a battle. He's always so competitive, always trying to win, always trying to get what he wants. I can't stand how arrogant he is, so I always try to beat him at his own game. Challenging his challenge, if you will, despite how much older he is than I.

"Rock! Paper! Scissors!" we yell, each getting the same result. However, I made a mistake during the third round. I looked into his eyes, feeling them pierce into me, as if he was staring into my mind like I was a book. That angered me – he was just toying with me!

In short, I lost my cool. Fire may melt ice, but melted ice turns into water - which douses the flame.

"Rock!" I yelled, but before our hands were even finished taking shape I knew I had lost. Already the bitter taste of defeat had me feeling numb.

"Paper," he said calmly, his face widening into a victorious grin as I let out a dramatic, anguished cry. He absently ran a hand through my unruly brown hair reassuringly, but I ignored it, still feeling put out because he had won.

I should have known better than to lose my head, but I was always the more impulsive one. He always managed to keep his cool, no matter what. Even when dad broke his leg pushing us out of the way of a car, or when a rabid dog bite hospitalized mom, he only showed collected concern.

I couldn't control my temper or my worry, and it only got worse whenever someone said something ill of the events. My brother and I…we're complete polar opposites.

"To the victor go the spoils. We're playing Crystal Chronicles," he said after a few moments, and, with a heavy sigh, I went to grab my Gameboy.

"And when I win next time, we can play Wii Boxing," he added blithely, to which I scoffed.

"We don't even have a Wii."

"I have certain…connections," he smugly replied.

"All the connections in the world won't help if you can't find one…" I muttered under my breath as I turned on the console.


That was, of course, only the beginning of the day. Little did I know that my brother was planning a scheme-of-schemes, one meant for me and me alone. Little did I know how far reaching his plan would be…or to what lengths. It was after we'd finished several dungeons that he, with his 'winning smile' in place, would suggest a…different game.

Naïveté and gullible are tag words I seem to be well acquainted with.

"What game?" I asked, tilting my head a little and rubbing my eyes. When we play a team-based game like this, we don't go halfway with it. We conquer it. Absolute victory is exhausting work.

"Well, I did get a new game we could try out. I dunno if you want to, though…" he started slyly. My interest, however, had piqued when I heard the word 'new'.

"What game?" I asked excitedly, never noticing how I walked, oblivious, into the final trappings of his scheme.

"It's not a game I think you'd be any good at. It's a racing game and since you suck at racing...well," he continued, each word providing more bait than the last until he had presented his five-course meal to a boy starving with excitement.

"I'm not bad at racing games! You just cheat!" was my automatic response. Smirking, he regarded me for a moment before he got up, motioning with his head that I should follow.

He took me to his room which, had I not fallen into his trap so well, should have been ringing alarm bells in my head. He never lets me go in his room. The few times I've ever seen it, though, it was a paradise fit for the prodigal son. His custom-built computer set upon an immaculate mahogany desk, a queen-sized bed filling one corner, his own air-conditioner, heater, and flat-panel TV – the latter of which resided in a large, full-featured entertainment center. His speaker system, every console imaginable to man, and a mini-fridge finished off the ensemble. It's no wonder he didn't let me enter. I'd never leave.

As he opened the door to his sanctuary and allowed me to step in, I felt overcome with absolute glee. I was in his room, the biggest room that wasn't our parents, certainly the coolest room in the house, and I was going to play a new game of his. I never even noticed him lock the door, nor saw his eyes watching my every movement, his mouth turned in a devious smirk.

"Whoa…your room is awesome!" I breathed out as I looked around. I had never noticed his closet before, as it was on the same wall as the door, but it was a full walk-in closet. On the wall adjacent to it stood a small nightstand and the bed, while everything else was lined up against the remaining two walls.

It didn't take long for me to notice the Nintendo Wii shelved next to his SNES. Moreover, in plain sight beside that…

Wii Racing. Complete with the Wii Racing Wheel.

At this point, I was in complete shock. Even now, reflecting on it, I still am. He actually found a Wii. He actually owned a Wii.

I was so awestruck that I didn't see him pull out his favorite reclining chair and position it in front of the screen, a foot or so behind where I was standing

Correction. Where we were standing. He had maneuvered himself behind me.

"Wii would like to play," he whispered behind me, his breath warm on the back of my neck. He was really, really close, and I had this strange desire to lean back and get closer…That thought was enough, however, to break me out of my trance. I shook my head and grabbed a Wiimote, somehow managing to turn the system on, selected Wii Racing, and snap the remote into the wheel.

He sat down in the chair and pulled me into his lap, where I instinctively stretched out comfortably. This was routine for us. For all of our competitiveness, rivalry, arguing, him being a jerk… we were close. Mom and dad were always busy making sure our lives were comfortable. They'd work overtime a lot, whether we needed extra money or not. They always did try to be there for us, and we knew that, but they just weren't around enough.

We had to be there for each other. Perhaps my brother just felt he had to be there for me. I didn't mind. Somewhere deep down, I knew I'd be devastated if he wasn't around. Lonely for sure, because brother always made anything and everything he did interesting. Often to my chagrin, he always made sure to involve me in it.

In retrospect, maybe we were too close. I never would have guessed I of all people could have any effect on my brother, but Gabe has always been able to control his reactions. I never know when he's lying, telling the truth, or just making nonsense up.

That always infuriated me to no end.

With his hands resting comfortably on my sides and the game setup before me, the next hour or so passed by in companionable silence. I was so deeply absorbed into the game, trying not to crash, that I never noticed when he started to shift himself, slightly. He'd always done it before, and I was sitting in his lap, but it never bothered me.

I never noticed that his hands had slid underneath my shirt and were lightly caressing my stomach. I never noticed when he leaned himself forward, just a bit, so that he could suckle lightly on the back of my neck.

It never once registered that my older brother was molesting me even as I enjoyed the game laid out before me. I was his clueless fish who had no idea that the bait I had just bitten had a hook attached.

However, I did notice when his hand risked dipping beyond the elastic of my shorts, sliding into my boxers, and lightly stroking that. The sudden feeling of…something…sent a shiver down my back and ignited a small fire in the pit of my stomach.

Instinctively, I leaned back into his touch, a small gasp escaping my lightly parted lips. Gabe paused for a moment, before he continued his ministrations.

"How does it feel, Dyne? Does it feel nice?" Gabe purred in my ear softly, nibbling on my neck sensually. For my part, I could only squirm and pant lightly, so many thoughts and feelings swirling through my head…until one decided to take the initiative and choose for me.

"Y-yes…i-it feels good…" I breathed out, not sure what to do with myself, how to feel, what to think. But the rest of me did; my brother had his hand down my shorts and was he was necking me. That's all my body needed to know. As my boyhood began to harden and grow underneath his touches, I felt my cheeks begin to redden in embarrassment.

It was then that everything finally clicked into place. My brother was…my brother wanted me. In some insensible way, as he continued to rub down there, I knew that this couldn't be normal. I knew that this had to be wrong, that if mom or dad found out about it…something bad would happen.

I also knew right then that I didn't care, because brother was here now and they weren't.

"M-more…please…I need more…" I moaned, my tongue darting over my parted lips, shifting myself to give him more access. He seemed pleased and, after using his free hand to slide my lower garments down to my knees, began to increase the tempo of his strokes.

Because of my age, he only needed his thumb and forefinger to pleasure me. Despite the limitation, the way his fingers would tighten slightly, just barely enough to feel, when he completed a downstroke, slowly began to build up the fire within me. He only made the tension worse when, on the upstroke, he would add to his middle finger to the mix, creating an even greater friction.

I could tell this wasn't just having an effect on me. He was hard. I could feel him pulsing beneath me, and a fleeting thought that I should try giving back to him went out the window when I felt one of his hands slide underneath my shirt and begin toying with one of my nipples. To accompany his ministrations, he began to suckle on the skin between my collarbone and neck, sending more waves of pleasure through my body – I had an especially sensitive neck. Reduced to whimpering and squirming, I could only feel.

The fire in my stomach surged as the three stimuli, manipulated by my brother's masterful touch, finally reached a boiling point. Moments later that my eyes squeezed shut and a long, throaty moan escaped my cherubic lips - the prelude to my first orgasm.

The feeling…I had never felt anything like it. I know now, of course, that this was merely brother's opening gambit. This was the first part to his scheme into which I had so nicely fallen – gift wrapped, no less.

As I came down from the euphoria I was feeling, I could feel my brother gently running a hand through my hair once again, muttering sweet nothings in my ear. I was still dazed, but it felt good so I didn't complain. I could still feel brother pulsing beneath me, and my earlier thought of returning the favor resurfaced. Yet, I held still, indecisive; rationale was begin to take over; wasn't this wrong? Should brothers do things like this? I shook those thoughts off - even if Gabe was a jerk, he would never do something so wrong so…openly. Clearly, it must be okay.

That decided, new worries began to gnaw at me. What if I did it wrong? What if he laughed at me? What if…

Then I frowned. So what if I messed up? What if I did it right? The look on brother's face when I outdo him…this was just another of his challenges. One I was more than willing to take up.

With a decisive, if indignant, huff, I slid off his lap, turning to face him. He had a questioning look on his face, but he didn't move. Taking a deep breath, I slowly stepped between his legs, watching realization dawn on his features, quickly replaced by a smirk – his "you're outta your league" smirk. I lifted my chin in response and tentatively began to unzip his pants, sliding them down as best I could. He lifted his hips to help, and soon his pants where down to his ankles, my fingers hovering hesitantly above his boxers.

"Well?" he quipped after sensing my hesitance. "You started something, and you may as well finish it. After all, what's the worse you could do? Screw up? It's just a game," he continued, smirk in full bloom by this point.

I gritted my teeth in anger. "Shut up. I-I'm just thinking."

"Don't think. Just feel – you can do that much, can't you?" he replied smoothly, leaning back a bit further in the chair and lacing his fingers together to watch me. I felt my cheeks redden deeply under his scrutiny, but I my resolve hardened at his challenge.

Without a word, I pulled his boxers down.

I wasn't expecting what I saw, to be honest.

He was…smooth. I half expected him to be the same size as I, but he was longer and a bit wider too. I slowly brought my hand closer to him, running a finger over it, before experimentally gripping it with a child's enthusiasm. He was hard and yet soft at the same time, and I noted curiously that my hand was too small to wrap around him. It was strange…but I didn't forget my purpose.

Still blushing, I slowly began to move my hand up and down, as he had done before.

I felt as if I was in a trance, watching my hands glide up and down my brother's…length. Only the sound of my him moaning out my name made me look up…and what I saw made me swell with pride. His face was contorted in the most beautiful way – scrunched together as if he were in pain, but the sounds escaping his lips…he was moaning. He was moaning my name. The feeling that this stirred within me was unexplainable; he had handed me the keys to his body leaving no other stipulation than my own best judgment in its use.

It was intoxicating.

My hand began to move around his length with greater dexterity and much more fervor, both backed by eagerness and some force that the moans he let slip from his parted lips instilled within me. Some force that told me he was demanding release as I had experienced. I was all too happy to oblige.

I held a mountain of power over brother in my hands…I felt invincible, excited by the revelation. He could have told me to do anything, anything at all, and I would have done it, without argument…

Suddenly, I felt both of my Gabe's hands gripping the top of my head, drawing me closer to him…until my face was staring right at that.

"Open your mouth and suck on it," Gabe commanded, his voice husky, almost delirious, with pleasure. I felt myself swell once again – he was giving me yet another method of control! Almost eagerly, I opened my mouth and allowed him to press himself into my open orifice.

sort of like that.

It was strange to feel the pulsing, hardened organ in my mouth, but I was simply too caught up in the thrill to let that deter me. I felt, more than heard, brother warn me against using my teeth, and then my mouth had closed over the head of his shaft.

He began to pull my head up a little, then press it down around himself, forcing me to bob my head and take a little bit more of him with each repetition. His hands were gripping my head tightly and it was starting to hurt, but it didn't take long before I had the feel of it. As I started moving my head on my own, his grip loosened and I was free to experiment in earnest.

The sound of light slurping, the occasional gag, and brother's heavy breathing are all that fill the room. I quickly learned there's only so much of him that I can take before I choke – which was interesting because that's when brother made his most interesting sounds. I kept trying to take more of him regardless, blushing fiercely at the thought of just what's sliding in and out of my mouth.

I'd lost track of time while I was kneeling between Gabe's legs, focused intently on the task, sucking on it like a Popsicle. Brother's encouraging sounds were just as addicting as the power I now had over him and I felt myself begin to pleasure him just a bit more fervently, gagging more often as I took more of him. Brother's noises were intensifying and his hands were gripping my head tightly again, his hips rising, jabbing into my mouth wildly.

It was sudden, unexpected. All motion from brother just stopped, leaving me held tightly in his grip, his length buried deep in my mouth, though I had finally figured to swallow before he goes deep. Everything seemed to stop, suspended in time for that one instant.

Then time suddenly snapped back into normalcy as I felt his essence begin to squirt down my throat, then roll, then flood. I could feel myself begin to panic, my mind screaming, "swallow, swallow, swallow!" and I complied. Brother was groaning, pleased, but his vice-like grip on my head prevented me from pulling away.

After a few seconds, which seemed to stretch into infinity, brother's orgasm ended and he relaxed his grip on my head. Sighing softly, he pulled out of my mouth, ruffling my hair affectionately. I sat there blinking at him, hair messy and wild, shorts hanging around my ankles, some of brother's fluids leaking down my chin.

"I hate you," I stated simply, causing him to laugh.

"I know," he replied, before lifting me up onto his lap, his length semi-hard as he pressed himself against me, causing friction between us and forcing a moan of pleasure to escape my lips. "And I love every minute of it," he finished before pulling me into a heated kiss, seeming to draw the very breath out of my lungs with his intensity.

Brother may be a scheming jerk who probably set this whole day up just to get me to do that to him, but…

…He sure can kiss.