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Salinger leaned forward on the toilet, the plastic nozzle in his rump causing him no discomfort now. He'd grown used to it over the past few weeks, and in a lot of ways, he'd really come to enjoy the warmth coursing through his bowels...

He was straddling the seat in reverse, leaning against the tank and letting out a long, slow purr as the water slowly flushed him out, his erection growing against the cold porcelain, making him bite his lip and try to block out the coldness. He thought back over the last few weeks, to his brother being all rough with him, and then, his mind drifted to the more recent, intimate details.

Michael hadn't brought home one of those stupid bimbos in weeks, a fact which made Salinger happy for a reason he didn't understand fully. It couldn't be because he liked the attention that much. Michael had been a jerk to him for years, but now, it was almost like he was being sweet instead of rude, or mean, or petty... The meanness had softened, abated, and become... well... pleasant.

Much like the water currently working its way through him. At first, it had been uncomfortable, painful even... Now it was welcomed.

He felt the pressure in his guts ease off slightly, and he knew that the rubber bag was empty. He reached behind him, clenching as he removed the nozzle, then turning around and leaning back, rubbing his slightly distended belly as the water sat inside him. His fingers trailed over his abs, which seemed to be a little more defined than normal. It wasn't something he'd noticed, though. It was just another thing about him that wasn't quite as good as Michael, so he tuned it out. Ignored it as best he could. Missed the obvious.

He relaxed after a few minutes, letting the water out and then cleaning himself thoroughly. He'd normally have showered afterwards, but since he didn't feel like it, he instead just scrubbed himself off. He stood, flushed, and walked past the mirror--stopping to look at himself and fluff his scruffy headtuft--then walked out of the bathroom and into Michael's room.

His brother was laying on the bed, just as nude as Salinger was, and grinning at his brother. After a moment, Salinger walked closer, tail whipping behind him, and as he got close... Something in him twitched a little. He leapt onto the bed, onto Michael, growling playfully.

* * *

Michael was caught off guard, but he recovered quickly. Salinger was batting at him with his paws, letting out soft mrowlrs, squirming against him and playfully fighting. Michael found a grin slipping onto his face as he grabbed at his brother, using his strength--to which Salinger was quickly coming close to rivaling--to roll him over, batting at his chest and growling back in a similar manner.

It was such a surreal moment. The two of them hadn't done anything as juvenile as play fighting in years, but both were laughing. Enjoying themselves.

Michael smiled as he got hold of Salinger's wrists, pushing his paws above his head, looking down at his brother. Salinger squirmed, still smiling, then... he leaned his head back. When the smile stayed on his lips, Michael felt his heart start to pump hard, beating faster and faster as he leaned down, pressing his teeth gently into his brother's neck. His cock was hard against his brother's fur as well, and Salinger's legs had somehow wrapped themselves around his waist.

Michael could tell then, by body language and responsiveness alone, that Salinger was his proper submissive. His subby brother. His bitch brother. He slowly pulled his teeth away from the other's neck, as was appropriate in a play fight, and started to lick and clean him slowly and methodically. He licked his neck and chest; over his head--biting at his ears, of course; and then nipped, licked, and purred as his shoulders. It felt good. It felt very good.

But it wasn't enough. Not yet.

He smiled, pulling back and rubbing Salinger's legs, feeling them loosen around him. A glance down told him Salinger was just as hard as he was, but he knew that he wanted to make sure Salinger would be his forever. And that meant putting it in the other cat's hands.

Michael quietly lay down next to Salinger, smiling and scratching at his neck and ears, and then tugged him closer and rubbed at his back.

"Night, Little Brother," he murmured.

Salinger was silent for a moment. "Night," he said. The disappointment in his voice brought a drop of pre to the head of Michael's cock, dripping down against his stomach and soaking into his fur.

* * *

Salinger pressed himself into Michael, not sure what had just happened. He was hard. Throbbing, really. And he was breathing hard as well. His tongue softly licked at Michael's fur. He was trying to get his attention. Maybe play again...

That itself was strange, though. They hadn't done anything like that in years. He couldn't remember the last time they'd been that... affectionate.

He pinned his ears down, thinking of how bitter he'd been with Michael. The other cheetah was bigger. Stronger. It wasn't anything to be ashamed of, he knew, and it was just a matter of chance... But that was how it was.

He nosed at him more, nipping and licking into his fur, eventually pressing his cheek into the other's chest as he felt the large, muscular arm--just a little larger than his, if he'd ever really looked--reach around him and stroke his arm softly. He closed his eyes, the purr crossing his lips unbidden as he felt sleep overtake, then scent of Michael's arousal strong in the air--but normal. Perfectly normal. His own scent was in the background. Unimportant.

Forgotten.

* * *

Michael woke up first, eyes opening lazily, then paw reaching and turning off the alarm. He liked to let Salinger sleep a little sometimes. He knew the other cat had been exhausted lately. Classes. His job. The gym. Keeping the apartment clean and respectable. Michael should have helped out, and he would... eventually. Once Salinger knew his proper place.

He smiled and stroked the other cat's neck and shoulders gently, listening as his purr started up again. He took a moment to admire his brother's body. He'd been working out at the gym just as much as before, but now, his body was starting to come into its own. He looked over the nice arms, strong shoulders. In a month or two, Michael would tell him that they were working out together. It would be fun, having a perfect equal to do that with. Well. 'Equal.'

He smiled as he saw Salinger wiggle and stir a little bit. Michael was hard, his cock rigid and barbs standing at attention, his musk starting to fill the room as his fantasy started to play out. A hard workout, followed by a tongue bath in the locker room, then a regular shower. The tongue bath was, after all, just a way of showing affection. Establishing his dominance. Afterwards, Salinger might blow him, if he was in the mood, or he might paw his brother off, for fun. Or force him to cum from a finger in his ass. Or fuck him.

Salinger squirmed against him again, his nostrils flaring as he opened his eyes slowly. Michael was watching Salinger sniffing the air--Michael's cock rigidly hard--as the smaller feline woke, and Michael couldn't help but feel a sharp stir of pleasure when he realized it was his musk that had woken the other feline up. His cock throbbed again, and pre oozed from the tip onto his stomach.

When Salinger licked his lips, then started the tongue bath, he knew for certain that he'd won.

* * *

Salinger hadn't noticed anything that different. He actually had morning wood himself, though he didn't realize it hadn't perked up until he'd smelled Michael's cock. It was just morning wood, after all. Nothing special.

He licked and cleaned at his brother's arms and chest, pressing into his pit and licking there as well, the taste of his brother's sweat feeling normal and familiar now. He ground his cock against Michael's leg, panting softly as he did, licking more firmly as he tuned other things out, starting to work down his brother's body, licking over his chest, his abdominals--tasting his pre, though not really noticing what was different--then stopping slowly at his waist.

That was always where he stopped. It was his turn now. His turn...

He looked up at Michael, who was smiling down at him. The scent of his brother's musk lingering in his nose and--he realized finally--on his tongue. Hesitantly, he licked just below his brother's waist line, looking up at him still. Michael gave a soft nod of approval, and Salinger continued, licking more and more firmly now as he slowly worked himself down his brother's leg, stopping after a little more than half a foot, then continuing up the other one. His licks drew him closer and closer to his brother's pubic fur, though he never quite got there...

He was hesitating, obviously arguing with himself about something when he pulled back, sighing softly and pushing under Michael's arm again.

Michael frowned slightly. "You don't want to get cleaned?" he said.

Salinger shook his head wordlessly.

"Why not?" Michael asked.

Salinger found himself sighing, then shrugging. "I dunno..." he murmured.

Salinger didn't see Michael's smile, but he felt the firm paw rubbing his shoulder. "Did you want to clean something else?" he asked.

Salinger pinned his ears back, shifting a little, then shook his head quietly.

He felt the paw leave his shoulder and slide down his back, over his hip and then lay against his rump. There was a soft squeeze there.

"Did you want to lick my cock, Salinger?" Michael asked softly.

Salinger let out a mewl, feeling his nose and cheeks turn crimson as he closed his eyes tightly. "I... N-no," he stammered softly. Quickly. Too quickly. Not long enough to be stunned by the question.

"Salinger. Look up at me."

He sighed, slowly looking up and Michael. "Yeah?" he asked quietly.

"From now on, when you clean me, you'll clean my balls and sheath as well," he said, gently petting over Salinger's back.

Salinger flicked his ears, squirming and trying to ignore the steady throb in his cock. "I.... A-alright..." he said softly.

Michael just smiled at him. "Now, get that tail up..." he said. "Time for your reward for being such a good cleaner..."

* * *

Michael took great pleasure in bringing Salinger to orgasm that morning. He was malleable, and while he'd already been getting Salinger's ass ready, the revelation that the smaller cheetah was going to be a cocksucker as well... It felt... good. He felt powerful. In control.

It was one thing to take an already present and ready bitch to fuck. It was another to make one. He felt like an artist, in a perverse way.

He wore a pair of thick boxers to his workout that day. He wanted to be properly musky the next time he was cleaned.

* * *

Salinger cleaned himself out as soon as he got home that evening, but he didn't really know why he bothered. It was early in the day, and while he enjoyed the ritual, he didn't really want to... volunteer for it.

Something had been working in his head. Teasing at him. Bothering him in some way that he couldn't describe. Some want he was either too scared or to... no aroused. Certainly not aroused. Just a little spooked. Too... scared to voice...

The closing door to the apartment brought him out of his reverie, and Michael joined him in the bathroom after a short search of the rooms. Salinger blushed as Michael smiled at him, feeling his cock throb slightly. He was breathing erratically again, confused, worried or... something. He just didn't... fuck.

Michel's paw rubbed over his head and neck gently, petting him, and he quietly let himself purr as the water flushed into his body. When it finished, Salinger sat quietly, gritting his teeth and holding the liquid, letting Michael pet him. When the bigger cat finally quit, he was close to cramping. He quickly rose, turning on the spot and emptying himself out. He leaned forward a little as he finished, a sense of relief washing over him now as he cleaned himself up.

He was tingling for some reason.

He performed his own search, finding Michael in the bed far too early for day and frowning over at him. The bigger cat smiled at him, rolling over and spreading his legs slightly.

"Clean me, Kitten."

* * *

Salinger's hesitancy as he walked from the door to the bed nearly gave Michael pause. He was moving slowly and methodically, watching him, and that normally meant that the smaller cat was being skittish. It wasn't until he got closer that Michael realized that it wasn't his face or chest or pits that had Salinger's eyes glued on them. Nothing that it would normally have been.

It was his bulge.

And that just made Michael's cock throb a little more. He was erect, standing from his sheath firmly and proudly, jumping a little with his heartbeat. And Salinger's eyes were glued on his length.

"Sal," Michael said softly. "You can start wherever you want."

Salinger's ears folded slightly at that, and he blushed, pulling his eyes away from the other male's cock and moving to stuff his muzzle into Michael's armpit, licking and cleaning him there rather than starting where he obviously wanted to.

"My Kitten loves cleaning me, doesn't he?" Michael asked, watching him.

Salinger was moving to his chest, nodding quietly and cleaning.

"My Kitten loves the taste of my body on his tongue?" Michael continued. "Tell me how much you like it."

Salinger's muzzle was buried in his other pit when he murmured a soft "A lot..."

"Do you love it?"

"Mhmm..." He was still talking to Michael's armpit.

"Say it."

"I love it..."

"Sal?"

Salinger looked up at him slowly from his armpit, cheeks stained slightly with his sweat. "Y-yeah?" he asked quietly.

"Go ahead," he said softly.

Salinger stared at him for a moment. A long moment. For a second, Michael worried that he might have suddenly managed to grow a backbone and say 'No.' His worry lasted the entire twenty seconds the two of them stared at each other.

And then, in a smooth, fluid motion, Salinger pulled back, scrambling down the bed, and burying him muzzle under his brother's sac, licking hard and fast. Needfully.

Michael was taken off guard for a moment, grunting, then moaning loudly. "Fuck, Sal.." he grunted, looking down at him. He grinned. "That's it," he said. "That's a good Kitty... Clean my taint. Then clean my sack."

He wasn't sure if Salinger heard him, but after a moment, his balls got the same, loving treatment. Loud purrs filled the room as he licked a lapped them, starting on the base of Michael's stretched sheath and finally starting to slow.

His eyes were staring at Michael's cock. Staring hard, now. His nose twitched, and after a moment, he slowly dragged his tongue up in underside.

Michael shuddered, then grinned down at him. At the passion etched on his face. His cock loving bitch brother.

* * *

Michael's taste stained Salinger's tongue, and it felt... good. He was tingling now, his entire body alive with the feeling of what he was doing and who he was doing it to. He was... licking and sucking and worshiping his brother. His brother's dick.

His cheeks were red as he sucked at the fleshy base of Michael's barbs, then moving up to lick and suck at the tip of his cock. He closed his eyes, breathing hard, his tail up and to the side, laying over his hip. He swallowed hard, then jerked slightly when he felt the paw rubbing over his head. He looked up at Michael, at the smile on his muzzle, then pulled himself away from the other cheetah's cock.

Michael rubbed his cheek, patting it a little. "You did good, Sal," he said. "It felt amazing."

Salinger's cheeks burned now, properly. He turned his head away. His cock was rigidly hard, aching, and he didn't know what he wanted. Only that he did.

"Sal?"

He looked back up at Michael, but he didn't speak.

"Would you like to feel good too?"

He flicked his ear, then nodded quietly. His heart was pounding in his chest.

"Turn around."

* * *

Michael watched, nearly salivating as his brother slowly rotated on the bed. Salinger lowered his chest to the mattress, and Michael leaned up, rubbing his paw over his brother's ass. "I'm going to start with my finger," he said. "But I think you want something else now, don't you?" he asked.

His cock throbbed when Salinger nodded.

Michael smiled, getting some of the lube on a finger, then slowly rubbing it against the Salinger's entrance. The slightly small cat was rolling his hips, pushing back against his paw already. Michael grinned and swatted his rump to make him stop, which drew a mewl from Salinger's muzzle, and--again--made Michael throb.

He wanted to get up and shove his cock in, fuck his brother like the bitch he'd always been and was now embracing, but... No. Do it right.

He slowly pushed his finger in, smiling as he worked it around, pushing it in to briefly rub the other male's prostate, then withdrawing it with a soft pop. After a moment, he pushed his finger in again, brushing his brother's prostate once more, then pulling it out. And again.

* * *

It took a little over a minute to have Salinger squirming and panting from the penetration. Salinger's cock leaked, and even though Salinger couldn't see it, Michael smiled when he didn't reach for it to try to finish himself. He knew his place. Orgasms were Michael's. Salinger got one when he was good. And he knew, somehow, that he'd been very, very good.

Michel's finger felt good. Really good. And he clenched around it once or twice when Michael pulled it back. It wasn't fair, really... It felt so nice, and Michael was trying to make it stop. He'd been good though... He... "Ngh!"

"Shh... That's it," Michael said. "Does that feel good?"

"Y-yes..." Salinger moaned.

Salinger felt the now-warmed lube dribble down his crack as Michael pulled his finger out again. He panted softly, tail up and tense, rolling his hips a little as he waited for it to push back into him. He swallowed, looking back over his shoulder. "M-mike?" he asked.

"Yes?"

Salinger's eyes were big. Pleading. "D-don't stop? Please?"

* * *

Michael smiled and rubbed his brother's ass, grinning. It was nice and firm. Like his own. Really, over the past few months, Salinger and he had been growing back together. Salinger made more and more gains. It was nice, seeing the mirror image of himself. A mirror image that was a bitch. After all, when you looked this good, who else was worth fucking?

He grinned. "I'm not going to stop, Salinger," he said. "From now on?" he added. "We're going to be together."

He pushed himself up, then quietly moved behind Salinger's rump. After a moment, he laid his thick, heavy cock between the cheeks of his brother's ass, slowly grinding it up and down. He felt Salinger's body stiffen, and he found himself rubbing his hip.

"Shh... Nothing will happen unless you want it to," he said.

He smiled, feeling his pre leaking from his cock as he continued to saw it between Salinger's cheeks, rubbing his hip as he felt him relax quickly. A few moments later, he was rolling his hips a bit. His tail lashed back and forth. His breathing grew erratic again.

"Do you want it, Salinger?"

The small cat mewled for a moment, swallowing hard. "Y-yes," he stammered.

"What do you want, Saliger? Say it."

"I... I want you to..." He stopped. Panting. Arching.

"Say it."

* * *

"I want your cock in my asshole!"

The words slipped over Salinger's lips like water from a glass, and as soon as he said them, he felt his face and ears start to burn. Had he really just said that? To his brother? And worse... Had he meant it?

The pressure of the other's tip against his entrance was all the evidence he needed. Yes. The answer was yes. He mewled again, grunting and raising himself up a little, pushing back slightly until the paw on his hip calmed him down a bit. He wanted this. He... He wanted this.

"Please... please, Mikey, please..." he stammered.

The pressure continued to build and build slowly, making him swallow hard. He was shaking now, shivering. And then...

He felt it. The throb of his brother's cock. The feeling of hot precum starting to ooze into his body, dripping into him easily from the angle. He mewled sharply, grunting and panting now, swallowing hard.

"PLEASE! FUCK ME!"

* * *

That was all Michael needed to hear. He pushed forward, his cock spreading Salinger's asshole open, a grin spreading over his cheeks at the deeply pleased moan he heard. His brother was getting off on getting fucked. On his dick.

Salinger might have been a stud. He might have regained his confidence, come into his own, been a real dominant, fucked some bitches of his own... But now? The only confidence he'd have would come from Michael. The only dominance he'd have was over the other sluts who he fought with for Michael's dick. The only bitches he'd fuck were the one's Michael's told him to. And with the low stamina Michael's had been training him for... it was sure to be a disappointing experience. For both of them.

He worked himself in and out, but frankly, he knew he wasn't going to last. The build up had been too much. Too enjoyable. Too tantalizing. In the end, he fucked Salinger for maybe three or four minutes, then shot deep into his bowels. It would be better for them both next time.

He reached beneath Salinger, smiling and gently teasing his barbs, groaning as he was rewarded by the rhythmic clenching of Salinger's asshole around his cock... and a cum soaked paw.

He smiled, pulling Salinger up against his chest, chuckling softly. "Clean up your mess," he said, smiling and bringing his paw up, purring as Salinger started to lick it clean for him. A moment later, he was wrapping his arms around him, laughing and pulling him down to the bed, cock still buried in his ass as he snuggled up to his twin.

"Mmm... Let's stay like this for a while..." Michael murmured.

Salinger gave no argument. And seconds later, his purr joined Michael's. He was, after all, perfectly content like this.

Felt like he was made for it.

* * *

The two brother's lived together through college, and afterwards, continued to share a loft as they both worked. Salinger's business degree--a suggestion on Michael's--paid off when they opened a gym together and started to run it on the east side of town. Michael handed the front end, Salinger handled the back end, and both of them worked with people who wanted a personal trainer.

As time went on, it grew more and more impossible to tell them apart. Salinger put on bulk, and he seemed to delight in challenging Michael as far as lifting. Michael seemed to like the challenge just as much as Salinger did, though. Almost like they were equals. Almost.

People who knew them said that they had trouble telling them apart now. It was only those that were really close to them that knew how.

Michael was an inch taller.