Ryan, My "Little" Brother (Rewrite) - Part 1

[tekuno]

This is a rewrite of BigBearMan94's original concept, done with his permission.

Original Story
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5 | Part 5

This story is now complete. (Thanks for reading!) Each section ends with a link to the next section, but here are links to all the parts of the rewrite for handy navigation

Rewrite
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Epilogue

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Content warning: this story contains both hetero- and homosexual sex (although mostly "offstage"). This story does not contain incest or macro growth. Many parts are, in fact, work-safe (depending of course on where you work).

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Ryan, My "Little" Brother
A Rewrite of BigBearMan94's Original Story (With Permission)
Part 1

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Lawyers' offices suck to visit at the best of times. When you're in a lawyer's office after a funeral, they suck even worse. And if you want the bottom of the pit of suckitude, try a lawyer's office the day after the funeral of your only (formerly) surviving parent. Oh, and toss in a little brother who has only managed to stop crying because he's been going more or less nonstop every waking moment since the news about the car crash arrived four days earlier, and he's too worn out to keep going. It even managed to be a gray, rainy, windy day both days, which was adding insult to injury in late June.

It wasn't anything like I expected from detective stories. It wasn't cozy, with a fire burning in a fireplace and shelves full of legal texts, or even a conference with the family around a long table as the will was read out. The only thing which fit the stereotype was that the lawyer really was the "family lawyer" -- but even that was misleading. Bill Earpp was our family lawyer because our family had consisted for the last ten years of me, my younger brother, and my dad, and Bill Earpp was a friend of my father's from high school. Nice guy, but not the bearded old legal eagle you might think from the term "family lawyer". He didn't even read us the will, although he did give me a copy, he just read out some of the important parts and explained what it all meant. Not that I would have wanted to sit through a full reading anyway; on the contrary, I was grateful to have an expert there to simplify things.

Boiled down, my father was neither scrapingly poor nor incredibly rich. When all the various tax penalties, fees, debts, insurance payouts, bank accounts, and retirement funds were added up and cancelled out, we had enough to pay off the mortgage on the house and pay all the normal expenses for about three years. Four if we were lucky and didn't spend much.

Mr. Earpp gently shook his head at me. "I honestly don't know whether you'll consider this good news or bad, Alex, but since you turned 18 two months ago, you are for most legal purposes an adult. That means you can, if you desire, take responsibility for your younger brother. No, no, don't be in a hurry to make a choice one way or the other. In fact, I won't accept any of the choices you make today as absolute. I'm going to wait to file these papers until Monday afternoon, so you have the whole weekend to reconsider and change your mind. You're the most level-headed 18-year-old I've ever had the pleasure to do business with, a real credit to your Dad, god rest his soul, but this is a tough time for you, no matter what you may think. You go home and get some rest, and I'll call you on Monday morning just to confirm."

I had to carry Ryan -- that's the name of the little brother I mentioned -- out to the car. He hadn't been sleeping very well, and all the obligations of the last few days had been very hard on an 11-year-old.

Hard on me, too, but I can take a lot. I'm a big, solid guy -- 6' 1" and 210 pounds on my birthday that year, and I had managed to put on another 25 pounds since then (albeit some of it fat, since I was bulking). I was always an athletic kid, and when I was about Ryan's age, I decided to get into bodybuilding. It turned out that I had really great genetics for it, and with Dad's help -- Dr. Jacob Wrightman, sports nutritionist -- I made excellent progress. I had won a local bodybuilding contest for teenagers during the previous winter, and had been planning to enter another one that summer before heading off to college. Now, all plans were up in the air.

I carried Ryan into the house and put him to bed, and then went and did a workout in the basement. Part of the reason people say I'm so calm and level-headed, I think, is that I've always been able to pour my frustrations into lifting. After I've made myself run with sweat and my muscles are pumped and bulging, I always feel a lot better. That afternoon, I ran through arm exercises, since there are a lot of them you can do with limited equipment and I didn't want to leave Ryan alone in the house so I could go to the gym. My 18-inch guns were throbbing and red when I came upstairs and made myself a protein shake. Then I took a shower and sat at the kitchen table, sipping a glass of water and watching the trees blow in the wind.

After about another half an hour, Ryan walked in. If I'm a born athlete, Ryan is a born movie star. Even when he was a toddler, he was always photogenic and cute. That afternoon, even with his eyes still red from all the crying he had been doing, slight rings under his eyes from the poor sleep he'd been getting, and a bad case of bed-head from his nap, he could have been a child actor in a film. He got himself a glass of water and sat next to me.

"How are you holding up, Champ?"

"I feel a little better."

"How about pizza for dinner?"

"I hate pizza."

"I thought it was your favorite!"

"I hate pizza because it's what we've had twice already since Dad died. I never want to have pizza again."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ryan. What would you like instead?"

"Could we have macaroni and cheese?"

"Sure thing, buddy." I touseled his hair. "Anything for my little bro."

I started some water heating, and started to cut up some vegetables.

"Aw, do we have to have salad, too?"

"Yep. If you eat nothing but macaroni and cheese, you'll turn bright orange. Even your hair. You'll look like a carrot."

"Come on, Alex, stop telling me stuff like that. I'm not a kid any more."

I put down the knife and gave him a hug, picking him up as I did so. Since my Dad died, I suddenly understood why he had started hugging me so much when I was little and Mom had passed away, and I think Ryan understood, too, because he hugged me back -- quite a concession for a kid who was pretending to be a grownup. "Yes you are, Champ. You're my little kid brother, and don't you forget it."

I put him back down in his chair. Hug notwithstanding, he was clearly a little annoyed.

"Now that you've seen the lawyer, what are we going to do? You said you wouldn't know until you talked to him."

I went back to cutting up veggies. "We're going to pay off the mortgage on the house and live here."

"But what about when you go off to college?"

"I won't be going off to college."

"What?"

"Ryan, if I go off to college, you won't be able to stay here. You'll have to go live with Aunt Melody in New York. Do you want to do that?"

"No. Aunt Melody smells, and she was mean to me at the funeral, and I want to stay here."

"Right, well, I'll just have to stay here too, then. I've already got a summer job, I'll see if they'll let me change it into a permanent position, and if not I'll look for something better during the summer. Fortunately, thanks to the insurance payout from the accident, we aren't hurting for cash."

"But don't you want to go off to college?"

"Sort of, Champ, but I wanted to go off to college with you and Dad still here for me to come back to. It's one thing to go off knowing there's someone waiting for you at home, and another to go off and have nothing left behind."

"That's not fair!"

"Sometimes life isn't fair, Ryan. But I'd rather it be unfair and stick with you. You're my family now, and I'm going to take care of you."

Ryan sniffed at this, and I could tell he was trying not to cry again, so I changed the subject. And put together the salad, and the macaroni and cheese. And a quick chicken breast for me, because funeral or not I still wanted to compete that summer. With some food in him, Ryan cheered up a little -- which was good; I mean, it's a big deal when you get orphaned, and it's healthy to be sad when bad things happen, but I don't think it's healthy for an 11-year-old to be sad for days at a time. I gave him some ice cream, and reminded him that we had to return the Pokemon movie DVD to NeltFix tomorrow, so maybe he should go eat his dessert in front of the TV.

He frowned back at me from the door of the kitchen as I started washing up the dishes. "I just wish I was older, too, and then we wouldn't have any problems."

Part 2

[rixxflix]

This is good. But please do not have cock sucking and stuff like that in this story. I prefer stories with MG and more worshipping less sex. IMO

[tekuno]

Originally Posted by rixxflix

This is good. But please do not have cock sucking and stuff like that in this story. I prefer stories with MG and more worshipping less sex. IMO

There will be a certain amount of sex in the story, but I've already decided that any of it which appears in the stories will be incidental and not described in particular detail, so if the whole idea disgusts you at least you won't have to put up with it very much. There may not be much in the way of actual worship, though, although there will be lots of growth and the characters will be doing measurements as a means of measuring progress.

Marvelous as always, tekuno! Thank you very much!

[marduk1126]

Thanks, I liked the original and was even thinking of continuing it myself. Much better you than me though.

[tekuno]

Originally Posted by marduk1126

Thanks, I liked the original and was even thinking of continuing it myself. Much better you than me though.

Thanks for the compliment.

Part 3 will probably be up tonight. (I might have made it last night, but I goofed up and made a basic continuity error about days of the week, and then realized that it would actually work better if I fixed the error and had the next day really be Saturday rather than retconning my way out by just announcing "no, actually, this was Wednesday". So I am having to redo the whole thing.)

[funboy]

Sorry if it offends others - but post your story as your heart desires. If there is one thing I have learned over my many years here, and posting comments myself contrary to the following "advice" - do not inhibit the creative genious of the authors. If you don't like the story because of content, stop reading. That is different from constructive criticism regarding style, construct, structure, spelling, etc. Don't get bent out of shape here - just saying.

[funboy]

Forgot to say I like this story. Thanks.