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Salinger awoke slowly, held tightly against his brother's chest. He squirmed slightly, but Michael's grip was solid, and he found that he was stuck there for the moment. He sighed, pinning his ears and settling into the other's fur, trying not to think too closely about the last few weeks.

Since Michael had forced him--though it was only a little force, Michael would have asserted--into this situation, he'd felt more and more submissive. He was already the passive brother, and now, he was being pushed further and further into that roll. A month and a half of tongue baths ever day. A month and a half of sitting naked with Michael on the couch. A month and a half of sleeping in the same bed as his brother, occupying his own only when Michael brought home someone else.

The worst part was how jealous he felt when that happened...

This morning was, in honesty, no different. He squirmed a little more, knowing that he really only had an hour or so before he had to be in class, and Michael might sleep past that if he didn't go ahead and act. He pressed his muzzle into his brother's fur, slowly licking in smooth, slow strokes, dragging his tongue of the rich, white fur of Michael's chest with even and careful precision.

He smiled barely--and for only a moment--when he felt the purr against his lips and muzzle, then continued to lick. After a moment, Michael rolled onto his back, shifting and allowing Salinger more access. The smaller cat, rather than pulling away, continued to lick quietly. He was used to Michael's taste now, and though he didn't notice it, he was starting to smell more and more like him.

His tongue dragged smoothly and slowly over Michael's chest and neck, then his upper arms and shoulders before becoming buried into his pits for a moment, licking the sweat from his body. He licked and nipped down his ribs, grinning when he felt Michael squirming in reaction to it, then moved to his stomach, licking and cleaning the last of his upper body, then pulling awa--

The paw landed in his head, shoving him back into Michael's fur and down, smushing his muzzle into the bigger feline's sheath. He jerked suddenly in surprise, the scent of his brother's musk suddenly strong in his muzzle. He squirmed once or twice, then pulled himself away from his brother's paw, looking up to see Michael smirking down at him.

"Sorry," the bigger male said. "I thought you were that bitch I brought home on Wednesday."

Salinger's ears pinned, and his eyes narrowed a moment later. He rubbed his muzzle a bit. "Jerk..." he said, laying down on his side of the full bed. Michael smirked, then pushed himself up, swinging his legs over and getting up. Salinger frowned a little more, leaning up.

"H-hey..." he complained.

Michael started gathering clothes from various places on the floor, pulling them on. "Hmm?"

"It's..." Salinger stopped himself.

"It's what?" Michael asked, pulling on a grey weight shirt.

"It's my turn..." Salinger muttered, the frown stretching into a bit of a pout.

Michael smirked. "You want me to clean you?" he asked.

Salinger didn't answer. He just let his head hang a little bit. Michael smiled, sitting on the bed and reaching for him, easily dragging him over and rubbing over his head. Salinger struggled just enough to make his point, then stopped, laying over his brother's lap.

Michael smiled, rubbing his brother's cheek. "You want me to clean you?" he repeated.

Salinger nodded wordlessly.

Michael smiled and scratched softly at his ears, leaning down and starting to lick at him. Salinger's frown faded quickly, replaced by a softer, blank expression that slowly dissolved into a smile. By the time Michael reached his chest, he was purring softly, enjoying the attention, even if it was kid stuff. He'd forgotten how close he and Michael used to be. Back when this was usual and even ordinary. Sometimes, he had a hard time remembering why it was weird.

He felt Michael nudging and pulling, making him roll over onto his stomach. He did so easily, enjoying the rough, raking tongue sliding along his fur. He purred quietly, squirming some as Michael's paw squeezed his rump once. His tail lashed back and forth in pleasure, but it stopped--along with his now loud and audible purr--when he felt Michael's finger press softly at his ring.

There was no further pressure. No hint that he was about to be penetrated or forced. Just the presence there.

"W-what are yo--"

Michael shushed him. "Relax," he said.

And Salinger tried to. He really did. His toes curled and uncurled a few times, tail twitching as he made an effort to relax, only for natural instinct to instantly reduce him to squirming again. After three or four minutes, he mewled sharply, and Michael removed his finger, rubbing his rump.

"Shh..." he murmured. "You did fine... You did just fine..."

In a moment, the licks returned, but he didn't start purring again. He was, for the first time in ages, honestly scared. What had just happened?

As the bath ended, he felt Michael pull him up against him, then turn him around. "Look at me, Sal," he said. Salinger didn't.

"Salinger. Don't make me spank you."

Salinger pinned his ears, then slowly looked up at the bigger cat.

"Who's my little brother?"

Salinger pouted, waiting five or six seconds before answering. "Me..."

"And who do I love?"

He waited again, but not as long. "Me."

"And you know I'd never do anything to hurt you."

It wasn't a question, but Salinger nodded an affirmative anyway.

Michael smiled. "You need to learn to trust me," he said, smiling softly. "I'll never, ever do anything that'll really hurt my baby brother. It may not always feel good, but you know it's for the best, right?"

Salinger nodded, still looking up at his twin. He knew that he didn't have any other answer he could make.

"Good," he said. "Tonight, I'll show you how to keep properly clean. And after that, we'll see about helping you learn to relax properly. Alright?" he asked.

Salinger nodded again silently.

"Do you need me to put my boxers on you and let you shoot?"

Salinger flushed darkly. then shook his head quickly, face crimson. "N-no..." he said, though he'd gotten erect at the suggestion.

Michael laughed, looking down at him. "Who's bigger?" he asked.

"You are," Salinger answer automatically.

Michael petted over his head. "I love you, Sal," he said softly.

"I love you, too."

* * *

Michael knew this day would come eventually, but he'd have been lying if he didn't admit that even he was a little nervous about it. It was a big step, after all, but one he knew he'd have to take quickly. For all his talk of 'stolen inches', he'd noticed that Salinger had put on a little more mass shortly after they'd moved in together, even if the dour, always moody other cat hadn't seen it himself. He was even a little taller. A late bloomer, but still one that could flower. And rather than let him regain all the ground he'd been easily taking for years now, Michael had made the easy decision.

He was the Alpha. He'd make sure he always was.

Which had led to the decision he was in now. Sitting on the edge of the tub, looking down at his brother's back, a plastic hose in one paw and a bottle of cheap, drug store lube in the other. He was smiling through his nerves, softly petting Salinger's rump and lower back, all the way down to his upper legs. "Just go limp," he offered.

Salinger squirmed against him, obviously unsure and uncomfortable, but trying to be. Michael had managed him handily, really, and now, it was just applying the proper positioning to cement him in his role. His position as a Beta. Or lower.

He uncapped the lube, slowly squeezing out some onto a pad, then starting to rub it around the smaller cat's entrance in quiet, slick movements. Coating him gently. He could feel the tension and nerves running through the other, particularly in the tightness of his rump. It wouldn't feel that great, but the other would eventually thank him. He'd train him to, after all.

He rubbed the last of the lube onto the plastic tip on the hose, then slowly pressed it against Salinger's rump, making the other cat squirm more and more. When it started to annoy him, he remove the plastic long enough to swat him.

"Stay still," he ordered.

The small cat mewled, then stopped moving. He smiled again, then pressed the plastic back at him. He watched, with just a small shiver of pleasure, as it sank into his brother's rear.

"There," he said. "Was that so bad?"

Salinger didn't answer, but Michael knew what he'd have said. Nothing. He'd have sat there, pouting at him. Acting pathetic. But with the next step...

Michael released the flow of water, watching as the red bag started to shrink as its payload finally had a place to go. Salinger started to squirm again, but Michael held him tightly in place, letting it empty into his backside.

"M-Michael, it hurts..." Salinger complained, earning himself a gentle stroke across his rump.

"It doesn't hurt. It's just a little uncomfortable at first. Your body will adjust."

Salinger fell silent, but Michael felt the tension in his body. Saw his quivering jaw.

"There we go," he said, watching as the bag finally deflated. "That's the last of it..." he said gently, rubbing at his brother's hip and clamping the hose again. "Now, you just need to wait as long as you can, then use the bathroom. After you do, clean yourself up, then come to the living room," he said gently, rubbing over his brother's back softly. "Alright?"

Salinger nodded, teeth still gritted. Michael smiled. He really was a tough little guy, all things considered.

"Do you want me to stay?" Michael asked.

Salinger mewled, then nodded, and Michael--for once--was happy to oblige. He petted and stroked him, patting his hip and rubbed his sides. He even leaned down to nuzzle and lick the back of his neck softly, bringing a brief purr to Salinger's chest before a groan overtook it.

"I... I have to..."

Michael imagined the blush on his brother's face. Savored it for a moment in his mind.

"Have to do what?" he asked.

Salinger swallowed. "I have to go, please..." he stammered.

Michael nodded, reaching back and tugging the plastic fitting out of his rump. "Go ahead," he said, standing up and walking to the door as Salinger staggered to the toilet. The other cat's slender abdomen was slightly rounded, giving him a little belly. Michael smirked at that, holding the lube in his paw, then walking out as Salinger finished the process for himself.

It had gone well. So well that Michael's cock was hard as a rock, and it would take work to get it down. Unfortunately, there was too much to do tonight to jump to that step. Maybe a little frotting, if Salinger proved to be a good bitch.

He sat down on the couch, opening the bottle of lube and setting it on the end table, in easy reach. He turned on the television, putting it on one of the pointless, music channels, then sat back and closed his eyes.

He couldn't wait to fuck his brother.

* * *

Salinger was whimpering by the time the last of the liquid left him. It had been hot going in, and it felt hotter coming out. He avoided looking at the toilet before cleaning himself carefully, sighing and lowering his head slightly. In spite of the cleaning, he felt dirty. All of this was so... odd. And he was uncertain. Having doubts.

As he walked into the living room, more of them reached him.

He smelled Michael's musk, a usual scent in his bed the night after Salinger was exiled to his own. But he'd not smelled it this strong before. He slowly walked into the room, padding to the couch, then looking at Michael.

The large, muscular cat was sitting on the couch, legs slightly spread, just a nude as Salinger. And Salinger knew the position he was expected to take. He took it automatically, walking over and sliding into the other's lap, gliding forward until his balls and sheath rested against his brother's. He didn't recall seeing Michael hard in a long time. It made his mouth open automatically, the words spilling out.

"You're bigger," he said softly, leaning into his brother's chest with a flush.

He missed the smirk, but soon, he felt paws gently caressing his back, sliding down and then moving back to the top. After a few moments, he was relaxed into his brother more readily, feeling protected and cared for as he settled there.

When he felt the lube this time, he barely jumped.

Michael's soft coos reached his ears, and he bit his lip, trying to force himself to relax properly. He was getting the hang of it, slowly, until the pressure built.

He squirmed, trying to push off of Michael's chest, but he was held tightly there by his brother's free paw. He swallowed hard. "P-please, Mikey..." he whimpered. He'd not used his brother's name like that in so long...

The soft shush reached his ears, followed by a quiet lick over his ears. "Almost there, Sal," he said. "Just relax. Once I'm in, we'll stop," he promised.

Salinger quickly nodded, biting his lip and shifting slightly as he felt the pressure build steadily. He panted quietly, whimpering, and then...

Michael's finger popped inside him, stretching him out and bringing a loud mewl from his lips. He bit his lip and closed his eyes tightly, burying his face into his brother's shoulder and biting weakly at his fur.

And then...

He groaned suddenly, feeling something odd inside him, pressing. It was a weird sensation, almost like he had to use the bathroom, except that it was...

He panted, feeling his cock harden into his brother's, flushing darkly. "See?" he heard Michael murmur. "This is what I was trying to show you..."

He nodded, the discomfort still working through him as the pressure seemed to ebb, build, and release slowly. He felt his cock dribbling pre down its length, closing his eyes and grunting slightly. "I...I'm getting cum all over you..." he stammered.

"It's not like anyone will smell it over my own scent," Michael murmured, bringing a soft flush to Salinger's cheeks, followed by a moan as more pressure was applied.

He pulled back from Michael's shoulder, face knit with something like confusion as he panted, looking up at Michael. The bigger cat was smiling at him, leaning down to nose him. "Does it feel good?" he asked.

Salinger panted softly. "I... I don't know..." he admitted. "It feels... w-weird..." he stammered, grunting as another dribble of pre left the tip of his cock.

"Do you want me to rub your cock?" Michael asked him.

Salinger flushed darkly, swallowed hard. He nodded weakly.

Michael smiled at him. Open and brightly. "Say it."

"Please rub my cock, sir," he stammered out.

Michael nodded. The lube fell to the side as Salinger watched the bigger cat's paw slide around the smaller's cock.

Salinger panted, rising up slightly as Michael slid his paw up his brother's cock and ran his thumb over the barbs, pressing down hard on his prostate at the same time. Salinger jerked, panting and shooting hard, his cum spattering against Michael's chest as he mewled sharply.

His cheeks burned as he realized how quickly he had--

"Someone is getting a hair trigger," Michael said, laughing.

Salinger felt the burn spread from his cheeks to his ears and neck as well. He realized that Michael's finger was still in him, then pushed. When Michael didn't remove it, he tried sliding forward, only for Michael's paw to press into his chest.

"Clean up your mess first," he said, pointing to his chest.

He nodded weakly. Lowering his head, he started to lick and clean Michael's chest fur, panting softly as he did. The strength of the orgasm was still sending shivers through him, matched only by the rush of shame he felt at how quickly it had arrived. He continued to lick at Michael's chest for four or five minutes, long past the time when the other was clean, just because his mind was somewhere else. Somewhere... He didn't know where, exactly. He didn't stop until Michael petted his head gently.

"Salinger? You alright?" he asked.

Salinger nodded, still shaking, but only slightly now.

"Did it feel good?" Michael asked.

Salinger swallowed, nodded, and immediately knew that wouldn't be enough. "Yes," he answered.

"Does my finger hurt?"

Salinger noticed that it was still in there suddenly. He panted, paying attention to it. It was weird, but no pain... "No," he said. "It's just... strange," he said.

"You'll get used to it," Michael promised.

* * *

And like that, a prostate massage became part of their lives. Michael made Salinger clean out before bed, and after his morning tongue bath, he pushed a finger into him and softly massaged his prostate until he grew hard, then made him cum with a soft stroke of his barbs.

Michael reveled in the fact that it was getting easier and easier to make him cum. He was growing accustomed to it. More in tune with the act. And Michael was getting better at it himself. Teaching him how to orgasm this way. He'd tried getting him off through his prostate alone, but he hadn't been successful in it. That was fine, though. A future goal.

His favorite part, though, was how Salinger seemed to be finally catching up. His chest looked more defined. Arms bigger. He was a little taller, even. And he was still answering to 'little brother.' It made Michael hard as a rock, and made him want to fuck his brother worse. Mount and claim him. But he knew better. Knew that he couldn't claim. He had to let the other submit.

He guessed that he'd be fucking Salinger within three months.

* * *

Turned out it was three weeks.