Two brothers

by Richard Jasper

Will and Chris are brothers, four years and one week apart. They’ve always been close but then Will persuades his parents to buy him a weight set and their true love—muscle—is unleashed! This story has two endings, “No, They Don’t” and “Yes, They Do” (make of that what you will!).

Added: 17 Oct 2020 7,269 words 1,381 views No votes yet

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This story has two endings, “No, They Don’t” and “Yes, They Do.” Both of which are included. Decide for yourself which one you want to read.—rpj
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The two brothers, Will and Chris, were four years and one week apart in age. They lived in a pleasant, upper middle class suburb, well-cared-for sons of a professional working couple. Their dad was an economics professor, their mom an M.D.

Like most kids in their demographic, they did all the social things: sleepovers and sports camps and Sunday school, the plays, the pageants, the kid choirs, and so forth. Neither of their parents were much interested in professional sports; they were the sort who preferred tennis and swimming to football and baseball.

Will was the older of the two. When he was 14, he asked his parents for a weight set. They both had gym memberships but they figured it wouldn’t hurt and agreed, provided Will promised not to do any heavy lifting without a spotter. To be on the safe side, they invested in a professional grade squat rack, which they installed in their large basement / recreation room, and then being Yuppies they went whole hog and really tricked it out with mirrors and mats and a rack of free weights, thinking “we’ll use this ourselves when we can’t get to the gym…” (Which never happened, of course; they both valued the personal, non-parental space they found at the gym, but that’s another story.)

“I’m so psyched,” Will told his little brother, Chris. Compared to a lot of boys who were finishing the 8th grade, Will was a bit on the skimpy side. He was 5 feet 6 inches tall and weighed just 120 pounds. Despite his slight build, Will was athletic and well-put together. Chris, at 10, was much smaller, although he, too, was athletic and outgoing.

The two boys had a great relationship, thanks partly to the fact that their mom and dad had really good parenting skills, mostly because they were far enough apart in age that they didn’t compete with each other but not so distant that they had wildly dissimilar interests.

“I want to get huge,” Will said.

“Why?”

It was a good question, but not one Will had a ready answer for. His dad, Ben, was tall (6 feet 2 inches) and athletic but he wasn’t big on team sports. Ben wasn’t weak and wasn’t incapable of taking care of himself. He didn’t pick on Will or Chris. For that matter, neither did their classmates; they were both active and popular boys, enough so that when the occasional bully crossed their paths they usually had a posse of like-minded friends (not to mention each other) to fend off the bad guy.

“I dunno,” Will replied, finally. “I guess it’s all those movies with all those huge muscle guys. The idea of being that big and intimidating, well, I dunno, just rrowr!” Chris laughed and laughed when Will roared, which made Will blush and Chris just laughed the harder. “Well, you asked, ya know.” Will said.

“I know, hic, I did,” Chris responded, his laughter having dissolved into hiccups. “Really, I, hic, know exactly what, hic, you mean. I was just imagining you as Rambo, that’s all.” It was Will’s turn to grin, then he pounced on his little brother and wrestled him to the floor. Chris’s giggles returned with a vengeance.

What Will didn’t tell Chris was the thought of being a huge, muscled, intimidating specimen of a man made him, well, horny as fuck. He didn’t know whether that made him gay, like Uncle Pete, Mom’s brother, or something else, but he figured it didn’t matter much; there were plenty of big bodybuilders out there and not all of them were gay, by any means.

Not telling was out of the ordinary. Will shared most things with Chris; he figured it was just something a big brother ought to do. He had even told him about jacking off and cumming and how good all of that felt. “You can probably do it now yourself,” he told Chris, “but it seems kinda pointless unless you’re gonna blow a load and that won’t happen until you’re my age.”

But not this.

“I think I’ve gotta figure it out for myself first,” Will told himself.


Lifting was awesome.

Just about the time he started lifting, Will got his growth spurt, going from 5 feet 6 inches to 6 feet in the space of a year. (“Just like I did,” Ben told Claire, Will’s mom.) But he amazed himself and everyone else in his family by growing out as well as up.

By the time his 15th birthday rolled around, Will was 200 pounds of solid muscle, a gain of 80 pounds. Will was still two inches shorter than his dad but he now outweighed Ben by 20 pounds and he was a helluva lot stronger. On his 15th birthday, Will benched 315 pounds for 4 reps, 90 pounds more than Ben’s single rep max. A year earlier when he was first starting out Will nearly herniated himself benching 95 pounds for 1 rep. He was now more than three times as strong as he had been then.

“Geez, Will,” Ben said, “I think maybe you need to slow down a bit. It’s not like your mom is going to agree to let you play football. And the added weight just slows you down on the soccer field.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Actually, Dad, I’m giving up soccer,” Will said. “I’m going out for wrestling instead. Mom’s not going to object to that, is she?” Ben laughed and ruffled Will’s shaggy dark hair. “Well, I don’t see how she could, since I wrestled in high school, too.”

Will grinned.

“Thanks, Dad!”

In fact, the extra weight hadn’t slowed Will down a bit and the soccer coach was quite disappointed when Will said that he was changing sports. “On the other hand,” Coach Martin said, “you really do have that super-wrestler build so you might as well give it a shot. You’re strong and you’re fast so it should be a good match.”

Chris was excited that Will planned to join the wrestling team. He and Will had watched pro-wrestling for as long as he could remember. Mom and Dad didn’t like pro wrestling at all but they let Will and Chris watch, anyway, so long as they did it in the rec room while Mom and Dad were watching something else upstairs.

“Like Big Poppa Pump?!” Chris asked excitedly.

“No, silly,” Will replied, “not that kind. You know, like Dad did in high school.”

Chris had been the perfect acolyte as Will had pursued high weightlifting activities. He never missed one of Will’s workouts. He delighted in wiping down the bench, helping (when he could) Will change the plates, egging him on to do more and more, and, best of all (from Will’s point of view), writing everything down. Chris had relished the look on Will’s face when he opened Chris’s present the first Christmas after will had started lifting, a ring-binder charting Will’s progress over the previous six-months.

“I put it all in a spreadsheet,” Chris said, laughing, as Will gave him a big hug and a high five. “You are a smart little bugger,” Will had said. Chris giggled. “Somebody’s gotta be! You’re just a big meathead now!”

Chris ran as he said the last, narrowly evading Will’s big hands. They both knew that Will was well on his way to being valedictorian of his high school class.


Needless to say, Will made the wrestling team and needless to say Chris attended every match.

True to his promise to his dad, Will slowed down in the basement weight room but not by much. During his sophomore year of high school he grew another two inches taller and put on another 40 pounds of solid muscle. By the end of the year, Will was 6’2 and 240 pounds of solid muscle. In 2 years Will had grown eight inches taller and doubled his weight! He was now a good 50 pounds heavier than his dad (Ben had gotten a bit more serious about the weights once he realized Will was leaving him in the dust and was now up to 190 pounds)

“Yer a fucking stud,” Chris said, catching Will looking at himself in the weight room mirrors.

“Potty mouth!”

“You say it all the time,” Chris pointed out.

“I’m not 12 years old!” Will replied.

He’s got a point, though, Will said to himself. He flexed his right arm. 20 fucking inches! He squared his massive shoulders, thrust out his 54 inch chest, sucked in his 32 inch waist. Fuck, he thought. I am a fucking stud. And it wasn’t just the muscle. The facial and body hair that Will had started sprouting a year or two previously had come in full and thick. He was nearly as hairy as his dad and Will had once surreptitiously overheard his mother describing Ben to a friend as “furry as fuck.”

I’m gonna be a fucking stud, just like Will, he told himself. He pulled off his shirt and flexed, then frowned.

“Well, not for a while, I guess.” Chris’s dick had plumped up nice and big for a boy his age but he was still only 5 feet tall and no more than about 95 pounds at that most. “Makes no nevermind,” Chris said to himself, employing one of his Uncle Pete’s favorite phrases. “Will wasn’t any taller than I was when he was my age. I’ll get my growth spurt soon enough.”

Chris threw himself down on his bed and closed his eyes. Chris was imagining what it would be like to have Will’s pecs, his abs, his bulging biceps, those awesome shoulders, all that fur.

My bro’s a fucking stud, Chris told himself. A fucking man. A fucking beast. A fucking ox.
The two brothers, Will and Chris, made great progress that year.

Will, the older of the two, had stopped growing taller but at 6’2 he still had pretty of room to pack on pound after pound of big beefy masculine muscle. By the time his 17th birthday rolled around, Will had added 30 pounds of solid muscle. At 270 pounds he was simply massive, with the kind of build an NFL pro or a competitive bodybuilder would envy, much less someone who was finishing up his junior year of high school. As for Chris, given his age it was no surprise that he grew taller that year. Thanks to Will’s tutelage in the basement weight room, Chris grew bigger as well as taller; he ended the 7th grade at 5’4” tall and…

“125 pounds and just 13 years old!” Will said, giving his brother a low whistle. “Damn, boy, you’re 5 pounds heavier than I was at 14 and I was 5’6 by then!” Chris blushed fiercely. “And you’re a strong little fucker, too,” Will added. “You know how many guys your size can bench 175 pounds for reps?!”

Chris laughed. “Yeah, I do,” he replied. “The answer is zero, at least as far as Workman Middle School is concerned.” Will fist-bumped his little brother. “You rock, bro!” Chris rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and you outweigh me by how much? 145 pounds? I’m a frickin’ midget by comparison!”

Will chuckled. “Hey, you’re 13, fer goodness sake, get over it.”

Chris snorted. “Oh, give me a break,” Chris said. “You’re the biggest, most built wrestler in the history of Worthington High School, quite possibly the whole state.” Will blushed but he grinned, too. “Well…” he began but Chris interrupted. “Which begs the question: Why aren’t you getting laid?”

Will’s mouth dropped open and he turned crimson.

“Chris!”

The younger brother continued mercilessly. “It’s not like you don’t have every girl in the frickin’ school wetting herself whenever you walk by, ya know. For that matter, you ever wonder why half the guys at Worthington have those big notebooks in front of their crotches? It’s because of you, doofus!” Will was speechless but Chris wouldn’t relent. “And you know who has it for you the baddest?”

Will shook his head.

“Actually, two people have it for you the baddest,” Chris observed. “One girl, one guy. Do you want to know?” Will nodded. “Do you want to know the girl?” Chris asked. “Or the guy? Or both?” Will was beginning to feel like he’d had just about enough. “Chris,” Will said. “I swear to God…” Chris wrapped his arm around his big brother’s bull neck and gave him a tight squeeze. “Hey, bro,” he said. “I was just funnin’ ya. I know what you like.” Will’s eyes got big. “How…?” Chris cleared his throat. “Umm, uh, no need to get into that.” Will glared at his little brother. “So?” he asked. “Who is it?”

Do I or don’t I? Chris asked himself.

“I thought it was obvious,” he replied.

“Evan DeMarco, of course.”

Oh!! Will thought.

“Evan DeMarco? Really?”

Chris nodded his head.

“And just how do you know this, Mr. Smartypants?”

Chris grinned. “His sister, Bethany, is my BFF, of course!”

Will shivered. “The idea of you and Bethany DeMarco putting your two heads together is scary,” Will observed.

Chris chortled. “Well, if we had anything to talk about!” Chris agreed. “As it is, complete and total speculation…”

Will blushed. “And just why…?”

Chris put his hands on his big bro’s massive, ox-like shoulders. “I’ve known since Mom and Dad bought you that weight set,” Chris said. Will winced. “It’s that obvious?” Chris shook his head. “Oh, I doubt Dad’s figured it out,” he noted. “Mom, though, she’s scary! I don’t think there’s anything she hasn’t figured out.”

Will looked Chris up and down. “Speaking of figuring things out…” Chris crossed his arms and arched his eyebrow. “Oh, fer heaven’s sake! I’m 13! I haven’t figured it out yet!” Will heaved a sigh of relief.

Mentally, Chris rolled his eyes. For a valedictorian, sometimes the boy’s head is thicker than his arm, he said to himself. The fact was, Chris had the hots for his big brother, big time. And I always have. He sighed. Not that it’s likely to do me a damned bit of good.

“So tell me more about Evan,” Will said.

Chris groaned. “Jeeze, you won’t let go, will you? And it’s not like there’s anything to tell. Next to you, he’s the hottest guy at Worthington High School. You know the rest.” And, yes, Will did know: Evan was a soccer player, 6 ft., 190 pounds of ripped to shred muscles, broad shoulders, narrow hips, huge legs, beefy soccer player’s butt. Curly blond hair, blue eyes, always tanned, smooth as a whistle. “He’s still mad at you for giving up soccer,” Chris said. “Apparently he always liked watching you dress in and out.”

Will blushed.

“And showering, me oh my. According to Bethany…”

Will yelped. “Good god almighty!” he exclaimed. “You can’t mean to tell me that Evan DeMarco told his little sister what he was thinking about me when I was in the frickin’ shower?!” Chris just beamed. “You want me to fix you up?” Will gulped, then shook his head. “Uh, no, that’s okay,” he added. “I’m a big boy. I can do it myself.”

Chris chuckled. “Well, yeah, you are, aren’t you? Biggest boy in Worthington High School, in fact,” Chris pointed out. “At least that’s what Bethany says Evan says!” Will groaned. “Why did God invent little sisters?”

Chris snorted.

“So that little brothers could get the dirt, of course!”


Will did ask Evan out, of course, and Evan quickly agreed, even swearing an oath that both of them would say “nothing, absolutely nothing!” to Bethany and Chris about what he and Will did or didn’t do. In the end, they could have dispensed with the oath-taking. To Chris and Bethany, it was clear as sunlight on the side of a barn that the two had “done the deed,” as they so quaintly put it.

In Will’s senior year of high school, he put on another 30 pounds of muscle. When graduation rolled around, just a couple of weeks after his 18th birthday, he weighed in at a totally awesome 300 pounds. Every college wrestling team in the country wanted him and so did half the football teams, despite the fact he’d never played a single game of football. The fact that he could bench 700 pounds for reps and his 1RM was 900 pounds was more than sufficient.

Evan likewise flourished, thanks to the time he spent with Will. By the end of the summer between junior and senior years he put on 15 pounds of muscle and added another 10 pounds by the end of the school year. Much to the chagrin of Coach Martin, Evan, like Will had done previously, dropped soccer—but went to Worthington’s football team instead. At 6 ft. and 215 pounds, Evan was an All American. The recruiters, who weren’t dummies, offered Evan and Will matching scholarships but the two young studs agreed that going to the same school probably was not a good idea. Evan accepted a football scholarship at Pitt, Will a full academic scholarship at Stanford.

As for Chris, he was happy that his big bro and Evan got along so well but he was more than a little miffed that they spent so much time together. More time with Evan meant Will had less time for Chris. And that sure as hell isn’t what I wanted, Chris told himself a good couple of thousand times. Even so, it made him hit the weights twice as hard, with predictably spectacular results: By the end of the 8th grade, Chris was up to 5’8” tall—2 inches taller than Will had been at the same age—and a totally ripped 175 pounds of solid muscle.

“Shit, bro,” Will said on the last day of school. “You’re a fuckin’ freak!”

Chris flexed his 17 inch biceps, threw out his 44 inch chest, and vacuumed out his freakishly small 28 inch waist. “Ya like that, huh?”

Will did a double take. Now that you mention it, he thought to himself. Fuck yeah, I do! But he kept that thought to himself. Instead he grinned and flexed his monstrous 24 inch biceps. “I bet you like these puppies better, don’t you?”

Fuck, Chris thought. He’s fucking killing me. Chris grinned and copped a feel. “Woo hoo! You know I do,” he told his big brother. “But I bet Evan likes ‘em better!”

Will expanded his giant chest to its full 60 inches, sucked in his 33 inch waist, and put his big hand on the big bulge in his gym shorts. “He fuckin’ likes this better,” Will observed.

Aww, Christ, Chris thought. I’m dyin’ here. “Okay,” he said, instead. “Spot me, goddammit. 1 Rep Max, Fuck yeah!” Will looked at the bar. It was loaded with 365 pounds. “Jesus, Chris,” he said. “Are you sure? This is more than twice what you weigh!”

Chris punched his big brother in the arm, hard. “Owwww!” Will said. “Why’d you do that?” Chris grinned. “How many guys my size can make you say owwww?” Will laughed. “Okay,” he said. “Point taken.”

Chris slid onto the padded bench.

And a one…

He wrapped his meaty paws around the iron bar.

And a two…

When did his hands get so huge? Will asked himself.

And a three…

With no assistance from Will, Chris smoothly moved the bar off the stanchions.

Down…

BOOM!

…and back up! “Woo hoo!” Chris exclaimed, punching the air with his fist. “New personal best.” Will just shook his head. “Boy, I said it before, and I’ll say it again…” Chris grinned. “I’m a fucking freak, aren’t I?”

Will nodded.

Jeezus, he added to himself. What’s he going to look like next year?

Will and Evan spent the summer between their senior year of high school and freshman year of college back-packing across Europe, their mutual high school graduation present from their grateful parents.

You would have thought that without ready access to a gym that the two young men would have had a hard time maintaining their size but in fact Evan managed to put on 5 pounds of muscle in all the right places—and Will put on 10 pounds! Returning home, Will carried a freakish 310 pounds of solid muscle on his 6’2-inch frame, an insane amount of ripped mass for an 18 y.o.

“Yo, bro,” Chris called downstairs when his big brother returned home.

“Damn, Chris,” Will said, dropping his giant duffel bag in the foyer, “did your voice really drop an octave or are you just shitting me?” Chris trudged down the staircase. Will’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?” Chris said. “I’ve always sounded like this.”

While Will had been away, Chris had grown another two inches taller—and gained another 25 pounds of solid muscle. At 5’10” tall and 200 pounds, he was stunning—broad shoulders, 19 inch biceps, 49 inch chest, and no more than a 30 inch waist.

“Woo hoo,” Will said. “You grew!” Chris grinned. “And I’m getting furry, too,” he said, scratching his meaty pecs. “It itches all the time!” Without thinking Will glanced at his little brother’s crotch. “Shit man,” Will said. “Looks like you grew all over!”

Chris had the decency to blush.

“Ya, seems like it, but I’m still playing catch up with you, I think,” he said, winking at his big brother. “And, damn, boy, how did you manage to get even bigger while spending all summer on the road?”

Will smirked. “Lotsa protein shakes,” he replied. “Oh, fuck, man,” Chris said. “You’re killing me. It’s not like I don’t already have the world’s worst case of blue balls.” Will raised an eyebrow. “Uh, well, ya know,” he said. “Evan and I kinda thought by now that you and Bethany…”

Chris snorted. “Uh, well, you know, there’s a problem with that,” Chris pointed out. Will glanced quizzically at his younger brother. “But I thought she was your BFF?” Chris rolled his eyes. “Well, duh! That’s part of the problem,” he said. “That and…” Chris just looked at Will. He looked at Will the way Will looked at Evan. The way Evan looked at Will.

Will gulped. “Oh,” he said, finally. “You mean…?” Chris crossed his big beefy arms. It was like he was 2/3rds replica of Will. Hot, in other words, Will thought.

“Big bro,” Chris said. “Sometimes I don’t know how you wound up being valedictorian of Worthington High School!”

Will hugged Chris to his massive chest, tucking Chris’s handsome head under his chin.

“I love ya, Chris,” Will said. “I hope you’re okay with this.”

I’m going to hell, Chris thought. That’s all there is to it. His big brother was giving him a loving hug—and he was getting a stiffy! “Mmm, Will,” Chris mumbled into his brother’s fur-covered concrete-slab pecs. “I can’t breathe.” Will let go. “How long…?” Chris chuckled. “Remember when Mom and Dad got you that weight set?” Will blinked. “But you were only 10!” Chris gave his brother a big thumbs up. “What can I say, Big Man? I had a good role model!” Will blushed, then changed the subject.

“Hey, how about a workout? And then something to eat and…”


From Will’s point of view, the week they had together before school started was totally blissful. Lifting and eating and going to movies and hanging out and playing games and teasing Ben and Claire, their mom and dad, about the “second honeymoon” cruise they had planned for Christmas.

For Chris, it was torture. Every glance, every touch, every gesture of Will’s…I’m going to hell, he told himself every day, a thousand times a day. He beat off a dozen times a day it seemed like: as he was falling asleep at night, two or three times in the middle of the night, before he got up in the morning, during the long, hot showers he would take after each workout, and all he could think of was Will.

Big. Hulking. Hunky. Manly. Meaty. Furry. Hung like a horse. Will.

Finally, the day came when Will was ready to fly off to California. He was pretty emotional, as were Ben and Claire. Chris, by contrast, was practically giddy. “I’m gonna, uh, ya know, miss you a lot, little bro,” Will said, with a hiccup and a sniffle. Chris thumped his big brother on the back. “Hey, Will, man up, okay? Yer gonna have a frickin’ blast out in California! I mean, hell, you’re only 30 miles from San Francisco, enjoy it, dude!”

At last Ben and Claire and Will climbed into the Lexus and headed to the airport.

“Jesus,” Chris said, slumping on the floor. “What am I going to do without him?”

Will hated his first semester at Stanford. His roommate, his fellow freshmen, his instructors, and his TA’s all treated him like he was a dumb ox. He was always completely prepared, always had the right answer, and never got called on, or when he did, his answer invariably—even though entirely accurate—received some smart-aleck put down. Sad to say, he didn’t get along with the athletes any better than he did the other students. Why aren’t you one of us? seemed to the the unspoken accusation.

A couple of times he went into the city. Given his size, he had no trouble getting into clubs; bouncers just assumed he was an NFL pro or something. He ran across hot young guys who ran whenever he tried to talk to him, big scary daddies who wanted to make him their slave boy, and roided up muscleheads who wanted to know what he was on and where they could get it; they were invariably pissed off when he told them the truth, that he was all natural.

All of which meant Will was on the phone with his parents every other night and traded Facebook messages with Chris several times a day. He couldn’t stop thinking about that last week with Chris before school had started, how big he’d gotten, how much fun it was to work out and hang out with his brother. How much school just plain sucked.

For his part, Chris was being coy about how big he was getting, refusing to post pix or even tell Will how much weight he had gained or what he was lifting. “You’ll see when you come home for Christmas,” Chris kept saying. “Maybe—ha ha!—I’ll catch up with you by then.”

Fat chance of that, Will thought to himself. He’d outweighed Chris by more than 100 pounds when he left for California! And he was growing even faster than he had done his senior year. Feeling perfectly miserable in class and everywhere else, Will found solace in the gym and the gym alone.

“But I’ll get to see you Thanksgiving, right? You’re coming out with Mom and Dad?”

Chris evaded the question for weeks until finally he sent a one-line e-mail in response. “No can do, big bro. I’ll be with Bethany and her folks in Florence. Italy!”

Will seethed. “How did he manage to pull that off?” he asked his parents. “Well, dear,” Claire said reasonably enough. “Mr. DeMarco’s company is sending him to Italy on business that week and he and Mrs. DeMarco decided they’d just make a family vacation of it.” Will fumed. “But why Chris?” he demanded. Ben, Will’s dad, chuckled. “Oh, you know why,” he said. “Bethany, of course.” Ben cleared his throat. “Uh, by the way, since the DeMarcos and Bethany and Chris are going to be in Florence for the holiday…” It turned out Ben and Claire had volunteered to take Evan out to Palo Alto with them to see Will.

“Oh!” Will said. “Well, that’ll be cool!”


Actually, it wasn’t all that cool. Evan liked Pitt just about as much as Will hated Stanford. He was, apparently, incredibly popular, with the guys and the girls and his teachers and his TA’s and the jocks and his awesome roommates. On their trip into town, he was popular with the twinks, the muscledaddies, and the roidheads, all of whom seem to be delighted to chatter the night away with him. Plus:

“We’re past that now, aren’t we?” Evan asked, when Will put his beefy paw on Evan’s ass. “Oh,” Will said. “Are we?” Evan put his hand on Will’s massive pec. “Babe, you were the best first time any guy could ever have,” he said. “No one will ever be as good as you…were.”

Will felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. “But…?” Evan checked his watch. “I’ve moved on, babe,” he said. “You’re totally frickin’ hot. But you’re too damned huge for me.” Will’s mouth dropped. “I like being the big guy,” Evan said. “That’s hard to do when you outweigh me by 90 pounds.”

Will looked Evan up and down. “More like 95, I think,” he pointed out. Evan stuck out his tongue. “See? I’ll never catch up,” he said, and before Will could object, and continued. “And I don’t want to catch up. I’m not cut out for Super Freakdom.”

Super Freakdom? Will asked himself.

“Don’t worry, babe,” Evan said, giving his former boyfriend a hug. “You’ll always have Chris, after all!” Will snorted. “What’s Chris got to do with it?” he wanted to know. Evan gave him the same glance Chris always did when Will made some remark that called into his question his qualifications as a valedictorian.

“How would I know?” Evan said. “That’s something you have to figure out!”


Three weeks later Will walked in the front door of his parents’ home, having taken the cab from the airport. Ben and Claire were in the Caribbean, Chris wasn’t old enough to drive, and Mrs. DeMarco was having car trouble, so a cab seemed like the best bet.

“Yo, Chris,” Will called up the stairs. “I’m home.”

“Dude,” Chris called back. “Down in a minute.”

The sound of Chris jogging down the stairs put Will in mind of a herd of elephants. He turned to look at his little brother… “Holy fucking crap!” Will exclaimed. “You’re fucking huge!” Will was not surprised to find that Chris had grown two more inches. Right at 6 feet, Chris was just a couple of inches shy of Will and showed every sign of passing him in another year or so. But his body. “I don’t fucking believe it!” Chris had grown while Will was away. He had grown a lot.

“You like it, bro?” Chris said. Chris was 275 pounds of insanely huge muscle. He lifted his massive right arm and flexed. “Check it out, bro,” Chris said. “Twenty-three inches, cold. And I won’t be 15 for another four months!”

Will was simply stunned. It didn’t help that Chris was now just as furry as his big brother, his mountainous pecs covered with a luxuriant pelt of dark curls, dark whiskers—a day’s worth of stubble, Will later learned—covering his face.

“Jesus,” Chris said. “It doesn’t matter how big I get, you’re always bigger, aren’t you?”

Will looked at Chris. The insanely broad shoulders, the spectacular pecs, the cobblestone eight-pack, the massive quads and calves, the bulging arms. Slowly, Will pulled off his shirt.

“Check it out, Chris,” Will said. “330 pounds.” Fuck, Chris thought. He only ever gets hotter. As Chris had done, Will raised his right arm and flexed. “Fuck,” Chris said. “How big is that monster?” Will looked at his arm, he looked at Chris. “It was 27 inches,” Will said. “Cold.” “Was?” Chris asked, stepping in close to his big brother and putting his big hands on the granite hardness of Will’s arm.

“Last week,” Will said. “You wanna measure it?”

Will and Chris stood toe to toe, 600 pounds of fur covered muscle.

Chris backed up a step and sighed “I wish you weren’t my brother,” he said, looking down. Will’s jaw dropped. “Why on Earth would you say that?” Will said, his voice crackling with emotion. Chris looked up and looked Will in the eye.

“Because I’m in love with you,” Chris said. “I’m in love with you and you’re my brother, goddammit.” Will slumped. It was if the air had been let out of a balloon. “I love you, too, bro, you know that,” Will said.

Chris nodded.

“I know that, but that’s not what I said. I said I’m in love with you, not just that I love you.”

Will grimaced. Seeing the expression on his big brother’s face made Chris turn. “No wait,” Will said. “It’s not that.” Chris looked over his shoulder, his eyes brimming with tears. “I love you, Chris,” Will said. “And you are soooo fucking hot. You are hands down the hottest man I have ever seen.”

Chris wiped his eyes, and chuckled. “Well, thanks,” he said. “That’s mighty sweet of you.” Will pulled Chris close and hugged him. “And if you were not my brother, I’d be fucking your ass soooo hard right now,” he said. Chris was hard as a rock and from the feel of it so was Will.

“But you are my brother,” Will said. “You’ll always BE my brother. And I’ll always love you AS my brother.” Chris nodded. He knew what was coming. “But I can’t be in love with you,” Will said. “We could never be partners the way partners are supposed to be partners. You’d always be my little brother, I’d always be your big brother.”

Chris hugged Will—and then let him go. “I know,” Chris said. “That’s why I said what I said.” Will pondered that for a moment, then broke into a big grin. “Want to work out with me?” Chris’s smile was a mile wide.

“You ready to get your ass kicked?”


Will went back to Stanford and joined the football team as a walk on, the biggest, strongest, fastest, and most powerful man to ever play for Stanford. By the time he graduated three years later, he was up to 400 pounds of solid muscle and a leading NFL draft pick—which he turned down.

“Sorry, fellas,” he told the recruiters. “I’m going to medical school.”

Penn, to be precise, in Philadelphia, which was Randy’s hometown. Will had met Randy not long after returning to Palo Alto, a fellow freshman and competitive swimmer. At 6’4, Randy had a couple of inches in height on Will. Despite his broad shoulders and narrow hips, Randy looked like a twig next to Will—and that was just the way both of ‘em liked it.

As for Chris…By the time his birthday rolled around at the end of his freshman year of high school Chris was up to 6’2 and 350 pounds of solid muscle, which put him about 10 pounds ahead of Will. Over the next three years, he continued to grow—a lot! By the time Chris finished high school, he was 6’6” tall and 500 pounds of mind-blowing muscle, the biggest (by far!) high school athlete anyone had ever seen. He was recruited by everyone, of course, but in the end, there was only one choice.

“It’s Stanford, for me,” Chris told the reporters who flocked to the Harper home to hear his decision. “Just like my brother.”

In their condo on Walnut Street, Will and Randy watched the announcement on ESPN “Jesus,” Randy said. “That kid has gotten so frickin’ huge!” Will grunted and adjusted himself. “Just like his brother,” Randy added.

Will flipped Randy over and began attacking Randy’s beautiful bubble butt.

This one’s for you, Chris, he thought. This one’s for you!

“I’m in love with you, Will,” Chris told his hulking older brother.

Will pulled Chris close to him. “I love you, too,” he said, barely more than a whisper. Chris stepped back and looked Will in the eye. “I didn’t say I love you,” he pointed. “I said I’m in love with you.” Will put his hands on Chris’s shoulders. “I know what you said,” Will replied, looking down at Chris’s bulging cock.

Damn, Will thought. Can I say this?

“I’m in love with you, too,” Will said. “I’ve always been in love with you. I don’t care if you’re my little brother.”

Chris wrapped his big paw around his heavy meat. “Do this look little to you, brother?” Will grinned. “Most men would kill for meat like that,” Will agreed. “You’re a man, Chris, I don’t give a shit. You’re everything that any man would ever want to be, everything any man would want to have.” Chris blushed. He wrapped his hands around Will’s bull neck and pulled his face towards his own. “Are you sure?” Chris asked. “What about mom and dad? What about…?” Will stuck his tongue down Chris’s throat. The two brothers saw stars.

“We’ll figure it out,” Will gasped, when they came up for air.

The sex went on for a long time.


When Ben and Claire returned from their cruise, Will and Chris told them they needed to have a family conference.

“I’m not going back to Stanford,” Will said. The older Harpers sighed. “Well, that’s too bad,” Ben said at last. “It’s a great school,” Claire added. They looked at Will. “You’re sure?”

He nodded.

“We expected this,” Ben observed. “It’s been pretty clear from the get go.” Claire tilted her head to look at the older of her two boys. “So what now…?”

Before Will could answer, Chris interrupted. “There’s something else,” he said. Will blushed brightly. “Well, if you’re going to tell us you’re gay,” Claire said with a droll tone in her voice. “We figured that out when you were, uh, about 10.” Chris looked at Will. “I told you,” he said. “We did?” Ben asked.

Then Claire looked at the two of them again, sharply this time. “But that’s not it, is it?”

Will and Chris shook their heads and looked at each other. “You see…”

Ben gulped. “Holy crap,” he said. “It’s Mike all over again, isn’t it?” Claire winced but Will and Chris just looked at each other. “Mike who?” they both asked. Claire cleared her throat. “Your Uncle Mike, of course,” she said. “My brother who…” Will scratched his head. “The one who was killed in the car accident?”

Claire nodded, fighting back tears. “It wasn’t an accident,” Ben said flatly. “Your Uncle Mike drove his car off that cliff.” Will’s and Chris’s eyes were wide as saucers. “After your Uncle Pete broke up with him,” Claire added. The brothers’ jaws dropped open. For all the fact that the two of them together weighed 600 pounds of massive muscle, you could have knocked them over with a feather.

“We can’t tell you how to lead your lives,” Ben continued. “You’re both young, Chris is very young, but you’re both men, men with great big men’s bodies.” Claire nodded. “You have to be grown-ups now,” she said. “There are some things you need to consider.”


Will enrolled at Worthington University where Ben taught, and where they had a fantastic exercise science program. He and Chris took over the basement, installing two king-sized beds—one of which was never used.

At Ben and Claire’s insistence, the two brothers each maintained an independent social life, although there was a lot of overlap given the similarity of their interests. The two brothers weren’t closeted; that and the fact that they were obviously emotionally close tended to offset any suspicion that they were a lot closer than most brothers.

“In the long run,” Claire said. “You’re going to have to figure out to deal with it. I can’t offer any advice, really.” Ben added his two cents. “In your case, I don’t think it’s immoral,” he said. “It’s immoral when it results in defective babies, which certainly won’t be happening here. It’s always immoral when it is unequal and coerced.”

The two brothers nodded.

“I have a hard time believing either one of you is coercing the other,” Claire continued. “But other people will not understand. They can barely wrap their heads around the fact that some people are gay.” Ben sighed. “Eventually that’s a bridge you’re going to have to cross,” he agreed.

But not right away, not right then.


In the meantime, the two brothers grew.

In three years, Chris grew six inches taller and doubled his weight. At 6’6” tall and 550 pounds, he was the biggest, most muscular man the world had ever seen—and he was only 18 years old. Will, at 6’2, got used to his little brother being the taller one but he did his best to make sure he wasn’t that much bigger. At 525 pounds of solid muscle, he was arguably denser and thicker than his younger brother, even though Chris outweighed him by 25 pounds.

When the college recruits came knocking, the two brothers told them to go away. When the NFL came knocking, they said: “But what about the rules?” We’ll change the rules, was the reply. Which is how the two brothers, who never played football in high school or college, would up joining the Buffalo Bills—together—for an unprecedented $200 million per year contract.

You know the rest.

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