The day started off like any other Saturday. Letting Brett sleep in, preparing his favorite breakfast for him, then seeing him off to his football training while I stay at home, doing chores and making sure the house is in order. It's a routine that we've settled into ever since we moved into our own place after starting to go to college together. The two of us know each other better than anybody else, and it's no small wonder, since we've been living together for nearly two decades now despite not being related at all.

Back in the day, Brett's family lived right next door to us, and our two families were quite close with each other. However, when I was only at the age of six, Brett lost both his parents in a horrible accident, and his grandparents were in no condition to take on a five year old and raising him full time, so thankfully my parents volunteered to take him in, since I was already a good friend of his and he's known me and my family all his life. As a result, the two of us have become absolutely inseparable, and while my parents raised him through our youth, I've become more active in taking care of him recently. It wasn't really a conscious decision I've made or anything like that, it just kind of naturally happened, with my perception of him changing from him being a brother to me to him being... kind of like a son to me.

Yes, I know I'm a guy, and he's a guy, and he's just one year younger than me—it doesn't change the fact that I feel like a mom. And it's not like he's fighting this dynamic either, in fact, he's just encouraging it. Brett just loves it when I dote on him, whether it's cooking his favorite food, cuddling him when he feels down, or just being there for him no matter what he needs. He makes those cute noises sometimes when I'm hugging him, and his smile when he's happy is just absolutely angelic. He is the love of my life, and I'll be his mommy and his big brother for the rest of his life if it just means I get to protect that smile, you know?

Sadly, Brett's smile is indeed one that needs protecting sometimes. He looks like a total jock, the star of the football team, the life of every party that people just like instantly, and seems like he's just an unshakable rock mentally. But deep down, he's still quite vulnerable, and absolutely takes it badly when someone doesn't want to be friends with him. Thankfully, it's not something that happens often, in fact, it hasn't happened ever since the two of us moved out, but I still have to be ready in case it happens with a comfortable blanket, ice cream and plenty of hugs and comforting words.

And, well, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried that it might happen soon. A few months ago, Brett got a girlfriend, and while I just want him to be happy and would be completely OK with him falling in love and eventually marrying... I can't help but feel that it won't work out. The girl is the head cheerleader, and seems to be into meatheads, which is why she ended up going after the star quarterback of the team. But in intimate moments, Brett is the complete opposite of a meathead, he's a sensitive little flower that wilts if not treated with care. So while I can't help but feel he's making a mistake, he looked so lovestruck whenever he talked about her... I can't bear to break him out of that feeling just based on a random hunch I had.

But of course, my hunch would turn out to be completely correct. This Saturday, Brett said he would be out longer than usual, as he had a date with that girl, and so I was sitting at home alone this evening, waiting for him to come back. I could've probably just gone to sleep, since it is pretty late now, but I had a strange feeling that I should wait. And so now I'm sitting here, the moon and the stars already out in the night sky, the lights inside down low and the radio softly playing classical music, worrying to myself and hoping my beloved is alright. Eventually, the clock strikes nine, then ten, then eleven, and then, the front door slowly unlocks and Brett steps inside, his demeanor immediately setting off warning sirens inside of me. His shoulders are slumped, his gait is slow and demotivated with his feet dragging along the floor, and because the room is fairly quiet, I can hear him sobbing even though I can't see his face.

I immediately spring into action, jumping off the couch and rushing to his side. "Hey, Brett, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" I ask, mentally chastising myself for not protecting him enough and even letting him get to this point. Slowly, he manages to lift his head up, and my heart splits in two as I get to look into his eyes. Red, puffy eyes stained with tears look back at me with an expression of sheer devastation, silently begging for help. His lips are quivering, trying to stammer out words, but all that comes out are vague noises of discomfort. I can feel a rage bubbling up inside of me—if that bitch of a cheerleader did this to him, I swear to God, I will make her regret hurting my innocent little brother. But I manage to swallow that rage, because right now, it won't help. The only thing that matters right now is comforting Brett—revenge can wait.

Carefully, I lead him over to the couch, my arm wrapped around his shoulder as single tears fall down his face and onto the carpet. I guide him to sit down and grab a nearby blanket, wrapping it around the two of us as I keep holding on to him tight. Brett continues to try and stammer out some sort of explanation or something, but all that comes out are just word fragments and noises interrupted by sobs and heavy breathing.

"Shhh... it's OK, Brett. I'm here for you now. You don't have to worry anymore... your big bro will take care of everything, OK? Just rely on me..." I tell him. I know he likes it when I refer to myself as his big brother, because it gives him that feeling that he can just let go of any responsibilities he thinks he has, like putting on a brave face or outwardly acting masculine and stoic because he's the big man on campus. When he's with his big brother, he can just be himself, and he can let his emotions out. I take a deep look into his eyes, and when he sees the warmth in my eyes, the dam breaks inside of him. He stops trying to talk and just starts openly crying, pressing his face into my shoulder and wrapping his arms around me, holding on for dear life. God... how could someone hurt such a precious, innocent soul like him?

For a while, I just let him cry as I gently rub his back and whisper sweet, comforting nothings into his ear about how I'm going to always love him, always take care of him, about how he's the most beautiful and kind guy I know, and how anybody that would make him cry is a terrible person that doesn't deserve a special guy like him. To some degree, he's going to have to let his emotions flow out freely and get the tears out of his system, so I just let him do that while I reassure him of his self-worth. After a few minutes of his, his crying slowly begins to die down and be replaced by sobbing, and after a few more minutes, the sobbing stops as well. He's still clinging on to me, but he seems to be doing better now at least. Ever so carefully, I lift his head up a bit to look into his eyes again, then give him a soft kiss on his forehead and tussle his hair a bit. "You're so precious to me, Brett. I hope you always remember that. No matter what, your big bro will always be there for you. It doesn't matter if I have to be a teacher, a friend, a cook, a mechanic, or even a mommy. Whether you want me to cook you your favorite meal, or tuck you into a nice warm blanket and tell you everything will be alright... you can rely on me."

And looking up into my eyes, I can see a warmth returning to his face. Some people might think me to be infantilizing Brett, that I'm treating him like a child instead of an adult, but I know him so much better than anybody else. Losing his parents at a young age was traumatizing to him, and ever since, he's been scared of losing those he can cling to in times of need. He needs these reminders that I will be there for him, and I know deep in my heart that if the situation were reversed, Brett would be just as doting and loving towards me as I am towards him right now. "Would you like some ice cream?" I ask him softly, knowing that ice cream has always been his comfort food that never fails to cheer him up. Still unable to talk, Brett nonetheless nods eagerly, and I head out to the kitchen, quickly grabbing the tub in the freezer and a bowl, preparing a few scoops and bringing it back to the living room.

When I hand him the bowl, Brett's face lights up just a bit, and he digs in with gusto while I go back to gently embracing him and rubbing his back a bit. As he eats, the realization that I'm here for him and he's safe and loved sets back in, and a smile begins to form on his face again. I sigh a heavy sigh of relief, and eventually, we begin to talk about what happened. It turns out that all my worst suspicions were true—his now former girlfriend wanted to get really intimate with him for the first time, and when Brett suddenly became a lot more timid due to his inexperience and hidden shyness, and she noticed he was in fact not the manly man he projected to the outside, her opinion of him practically flipped 180 degrees. She suddenly began berating him, calling him a wimp, a pussy, a fruit, and far more hurtful things I will not repeat, before threatening to gossip this entire information throughout the entire college to ruin his reputation. She then kicked him out of her place, and he was so distraught at this turn of events that he just aimlessly wandered the streets for a few hours, stewing in his own misery of having his first real boyfriend-girlfriend relationship turn sour in such a way in an instant.

While I'm unsure that this information about Brett coming out would ruin his reputation, the malice on display from this woman makes my stomach turn, and I can feel that rage flaring up again. But not tonight. Tomorrow is also a day, and I do know where she lives after all, so I can maybe make a little social visit to explain how things work around here then. But tonight is for my precious little brother alone. I will make it all feel better, make him feel happier than ever before, so he can forget all about that horrid, superficial bitch of a woman. So after he finishes up his ice cream, we wrap the blanket around us tightly and cuddle up together, basking in the calm night atmosphere and the low light as the music softly plays in the background. I continue gently giving him those little gestures of affection, like snuggling up against him, holding his hand and giving him a soft peck on the cheek, and Brett starts making those quiet contented noises that I find so adorable about him.

In fact, he's so damn adorable that I make a move I've never considered before. Ever so slowly, my face creeps closer to his... and I place my lips on his for the first time. Brett's eyes go wide, but his expression quickly softens again as the surprise wears away. I hold the kiss for a few seconds, not going any further than just simply having my lips on his, then move my face away again, giving him a smile. "Did that feel good? Because I liked it."

He looks pensive for a moment, but eventually, he nods. "Yeah... it did. It felt really nice." he replies, beginning to blush a bit.

I reach out to him, carefully cupping his cheek a bit. "I want you to know you can rely on me. In every single way. So if you want something... you can just ask. No matter what, OK? We can do anything you want... and I'll take good care of you. You're like a son and a brother combined to me... you're my everything." No matter what, I'm ready to give him everything that he wants. We're not related by blood, after all, so we can do anything. We can be as intimate as we want.

The implication is clear, and Brett's face gets just that extra bit more red as he thinks about it. And then, he speaks again. "I... I do want something. I want...