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by cts_tj
Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #2220174
The younger will grow bigger than the older...
Ryan knocked on the door of his childhood home, anxious yet excited to be back after his first three months of being a freshman in college.

He made a note to himself if his mom answered to retrieve the turkey and other baked goods he had in the back of his car into the house. He rung the doorbell with hesitant fingers and waited.

And waited.

His thoughts drifted to the last time he was here. His younger brother had a checkup that day, probably to track his growth in testosterone supplements, and he had all of his pots, pans, and other stuff packed in a U-Haul in front of his red semi convertible. He had hugged his mother goodbye, sent his bro a goodbye text, and with that hug he hopped in his car and followed the U-Haul to his new campus.

That was in June.

Since then, he had seen his mother on one other occasion, but not his baby brother Max. In fact, the last time he brought him up his mom looked a bit scared.

"Hope he didn't change too much while I was gone," The eighteen year old thought to himself.

He was still waiting. Suddenly, his phone buzzed a couple of times; it was string of texts from his mom.

Hey sweetie.
Just letting you know that no one's home, use the spare key in the back of the mailbox.
Your brother's coming home in about an hour, he's currently at a friend's.
I might not get back until later, but don't forget that I love you!

Ryan smiled softly. Nursing was such a tiring job, but her mom was trying her best. He was glad she tried to be around, and even when she couldn't, Ryan had taught himself the necessary skills to take care of him and his bro.

Although his responsibilities didn't stop him from picking on his younger sibling...

"But that was the past," Ryan said softly to himself as he retrieved the key and opened the door, "hopefully Max doesn't hold a grudge,"

He entered in the house, and automatically got to unpacking his stuff in the guest room. After an hour, Max still hadn't entered, so Ryan starting unloading all the stuff in his car, specifically his cooking utensils so he could make dinner.

He remembered the empty takeout boxes, and set it aside in case his mom had to make a quick stop at the house and head straight back to work. He remembered that it happened so often that even beginning at college with no meal plan he cooked for himself and left a plate for his roommate (which, fortunately, helped the two become close friends).

While he waited for the rice to set in the boiling water so he could season it, he trudged back to the guest room and swapped his iPhone off his bed. Setting it on top of the radio, he spiced up his cooking session with a variety of new music and new artists he started listening to because of all his friends at uni. His feet started to move to the rhythms his ears picked up, and as he added garlic powder and parsley to the rice he found that he had a bit more bounce in his step.

He finished the rice, and decided on the fly that it was too late for meat. He made two plates of rice and put some in the takeout box for his mom, sprinkling them all with salt before working on the veggies.

He grabbed a cutting board and a knife and set them on the table. Then, realizing he needed full concentration when prepping them, he turned off his music and returned the phone to his room. After that, he took the veggies out the fridge, and once he washed them, began working on dicing them on the cutting board.

He boiled some water on the lowest setting while he worked. When he was done, he dropped the green beans, carrots, and peppers all in the same pan as the water (which he had added a bit of apple cider vinegar to so that the tastes would be amplified).

At 9 pm, everything was ready; the takeout was on the counter (soon to be stored in the fridge if she didn't arrived), and Ryan sat patiently at his place mat for his brother to arrive.

About 5 minutes later, someone knocked on the door. Ryan, figuring that it was probably his brother, hesitantly got up to open it.

"I got it," he mumbled to no one in particular, adding, "where has he been?"

He took a deep breath, and opened the door wide with his eyes mid-blink.

"Miss me?" He said smugly, not daring to open his eyes until he felt his brother tackle him into a hug.

Unfortunately for Ryan, that never came. Instead, a voice much deeper than his asked:

"Ryan? Is that you?"

Ryan opened his eyes, and found his eyes even with the man's midsection. He dared to look up, way UP until he found his brother's icy blues staring him down.

"Let me in, will ya? It's cold out here!" His massive brother continued.

Ryan moved to the side, and was surprised to feel his brother's firm, powerful arm brush against his jelly like ones.


"Mmmmm...did you cook big bro? Smells delicious!"

Ryan was still in shock as his sibling took the freshman's plate (which, mind you, had more food), and stomped up to his room.

How did this happen...in the course of a few months?

Ryan doubted the testosterone worked THAT well, the twerp he once knew must have taken matters into his own hands and started pushing himself at the gym.

For some reason, Ryan found his pride wounded at this discovery. Not to mention his hulk of a brother didn't even bother to sit at the table with him, he just went on upstairs and did his thing.

That infuriated Ryan.

In his blind rage, it didn't matter how strong his brother had become. He needed to be taught manners.

And even though plummeting his little bro was a past he didn't want to return to, he realized that his dignity and his baby brother's docility were at stake if he didn't.
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