His Stuffed Rabbit

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and at least 18 years of age. Please note that this story is primarily concerned with the love between two brothers, and that while there is sex, it is not the main focus of the work.

His Stuffed Rabbit

I.

"Kennnnyy!"

The bright tone of my strained voice reverberated throughout the small space of my apartment's living area. Well, it technically wasn't mine, anyways, since my older brother was the one actually paying the rent.

"Keeennnt!"

The apartment was dead silent except for the soft thudding of my padded footsteps. I walked to my brother's bedroom and peeked my head in just beyond the doorway. He wasn't there. The room was empty. I knew the whole house was empty, but I still preferred to double check every time I entered Kenny's room to do my business. Call me paranoid, but I'd just about die if he caught me doing what I was about to do. If Kenny threw me out, I wouldn't only lose my place to stay, I would risk losing the one person important in my life and ever so close to my heart.

His room was sparsely decorated, though he had a baseball poster or a drawing of mine plastered on the wall here and there. The air was light and clear of any residual musk of his that might have been left behind during his sleep. How disappointing. I passed by his desk--littered with biology textbooks and lecture notes--and stood in front of the accursed, open window. My eyebrows twinged in annoyance as I shut it forcibly and closed the window blinds.

I flicked the light switch on and approached the object of my mission: the adorable stuffed rabbit placed on top of his wooden dresser. I picked it up and caressed its fluffy fur and feathery ears, which were long, pink, and flopped down the sides of its round face. Its eyes were comically large and dominated by its wide, black pupils. It had a big goofy grin and rosy cheeks.

In my mind, the rabbit was not only the symbol of the cuteness and cheerfulness I wanted to have and embody in my life, but it was also a physical reminder of the unbreakable bond I shared with Kenny. My delicate fingertips trembled as I went to grab the box cutter tucked within the pocket of my black, lycra boy shorts. I pushed out its retractable blade and reluctantly sunk it into the wooly flesh of the poor stuffed animal.

It hurt me deep inside my soul to cut open the toy that held so much sentimental value, but I pressed on and strengthened my resolve--completing the incision for the sake of my greater purpose. I was going to have him, and this would be the first step to initiate my plan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The arcade was absolutely packed that day. Kids ran left and right across the patterned carpet covered in planets, comets, and asteroids. The floor glowed against the dark atmosphere that would have otherwise been rather muted if not for the flashing screens of the myriad arcade machines and the loud shouting of all the children whose arms were full with tickets and prizes. Some eagerly smashed the large buttons of the lottery ticket spinners while others hurled mini basketballs against the wired machine walls and waved fake guns around at their friends instead of the zombies on the screen.

I glanced over at my parents who were seated in the booths of the dining area. Both of them were wholly absorbed in whatever documents they were reading and did not notice my staring. Kenny was taking a while in the bathroom and I wanted to impress him with a lot of tickets, so I left to go look for the skee ball machines. I located the machine after a search through the winding walkways leading towards the back of the arcade. The skee ball game had a total of five lanes, three of which were blocked by the teenagers sitting on the edges to watch one of their friends play in the last lane.

They were a rowdy bunch and cheered loudly in celebration for their friend who managed to continually land their ball inside the small ring worth fifty points. The guy smirked and leered at the girls in his group, hoping to impress them and win them over. I cringed at his attempt, but was ultimately sullen by the fact that I had no friends of my own. I was shy and feminine, keeping to myself at school and never bothering to talk much with the other boys. Who could I even have invited to my tenth birthday?

I grabbed two of the grimy, white balls from the bottom compartment under the first lane and focused my attention onto the tiny ring tucked away in the back corner of the machine--the one hundred point ring. I was going to hit it despite my supposedly thin and weak arms and completely shock Kenny. I couldn't wait to relish his dumbfounded expression.

"Hey, look at this kid over here," the teenager closest to my lane said. He had a shit-eating grin and hopped off the machine to stand between me and the skee ball lane, his larger frame towering over me.

"Well, aren't you a little sissy boy," he continued, mocking my appearance.

"Leave me alone! I'm just trying to play," I protested.

This caught the notice of the entire group as well as that of the hot shot who was at the first lane. He proceeded to come towards me as well. The rest of the teens backed up and stood behind him in anticipation of drama that was about to go down. He was evidently the leader of their delinquent crew.

He smiled and threw his hands up, looking at his friend to say, "Come on now, leave her alone. In fact, I think we should all take a moment to watch and learn."

"What!? I'm a boy--," I barely squeaked out before he grasped my right wrist firmly and patted the ball in my sweaty palms.

"Go ahead. Show us how good you are," he added in a deadpan delivery.

My eyes darted around, praying Kenny would show up, and I felt my knees buckle beneath the weight of their heated gazes. I took a deep breath. The sound of my heavy heartbeats drowned out all the surrounding noise. I tightened my hold of the skee ball and took a step back from the machine, preparing to make my throw.

The ball clinked and clanged as it ricocheted off the edge of the wide ten point ring and that of the outer wall. It bounced rapidly like a pinball before rolling down the sloped surface and back onto the throwing lane. Zero points. I didn't even make the ball into the collection hole that returns it to the bottom.

The crowd erupted into vociferous laughter. My reddened cheeks burned with shame and embarrassment as I wanted to tuck myself away into a hole and die there.

"No way," the leader gasped, chucking, "that actually takes some skill...To bounce it out of the entire machine like that."

His words were dripping with venomous sarcasm. By now, tears had begun to roll down my face and onto my t-shirt, dampening it with rings of wetness that mocked me in their resemblance to those on the skee ball machine.

"Stop crying like little girl and get the fuck out of here," the other guy said, pushing me hard to the ground.

I turned around as I fell backwards, bruising my knees and scraping my hands. In spite of the pain and humiliation I experienced, the only thing I could think of while being hunched over on the floor was how much I hated my parents. They always believed I wasn't smart or strong enough unlike my brother. They were never there to help me, console me, or protect me. And above all, I felt betrayed by Kenny.

They laughed and jeered. I glued my eyes to the floor, trying hopelessly to ignore their presence and take myself away from this life.

"You got five seconds to get the FUCK away from my brother until I start kicking your sorry asses," I suddenly heard Kenny yell from behind.

Kenny assumed a sort of combative stance, the veins on his forehead and hands bulging alongside the flexing muscles on his forearms. Although he was about the same age as the other teenagers at the time and not particularly tall, his exceptionally bulky frame and angry demeanor dissuaded the bunch from retaliating against him. The leader and his cronies scowled at us as they disappeared into the maze of arcade machines.

"Oh my god, are you ok, Blake? I'm so sorry...I was--I was taking a dump and couldn't find you after I came out. Mom and Dad didn't know where you were either," he said nervously, helping me back onto my feet and placing his hands on my shoulders.

I hid myself behind my arms as I wiped the tears away from my eyes. He reached a hand out tentatively. I dropped my arms and he used his thumb to smother a rogue teardrop on the corner of my left eye. Kenny pulled me into him, soothing me with a hug and saying, "I...I want to make it up to you.........Uh...you know what, how about I win you something from the big claw machine? That one over there has stuffed animals, and I know how much you like those."

Not releasing myself from our embrace, I nodded into his chest. He gently brought me to the claw machine with an arm around my back. I could barely make out a cute bunny rabbit in the middle with my puffy eyes and blurred vision. I pointed to it, the tip of my pointer finger pressing against the glass of the machine. Kenny nodded and paced around the machine, trying to observe the target from all angles. And in one swift motion, Kenny inserted a few tokens, manipulated the claw, and seized the plush toy on his first try.

He presented the stuffed rabbit to me with a beaming smile. The only person that ended up impressing my brother was himself. The skee ball machine and bullying was immediately forgotten, however, as soon as I saw the toy and hugged it.

"Feel better now?," he asked and I nodded profusely.

"Wait a minute, Blake. Give me a second," Kenny said with a serious look on his face. He returned to the claw machine, taking two attempts and effortlessly winning a second rabbit that was exactly the same as the first.

"See? Now the rabbits will have each other just as how you will always have me, and I will always have you."

Kenny had more than made up for his earlier mistake. I couldn't help but smile sweetly at him in affirmation. Twiddling my thumbs, I asked him, "Kenny......Can...can I marry you when we grow up?"

He frowned at the mention of the nickname he so detested. Sighing and relenting, he responded, "Fine. I guess I'll let you call me Kenny. But only you though, Blake, and no one else.........And...sure. We can get married when we get older, ok?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I extracted a handful of stuffing from the rabbit and laid it down on the desk like a hospital patient. I took out a small, wireless camera from my other pocket and positioned inside the plushie--lining the camera lens up with the little hole I cut out from the front of its torso below its neck. This way, the tiny lens would be hidden by the bottom of its head once the rabbit was leaned up against the wall.

Frankly, I didn't give a fuck about what society would think or the fact that anyone would scoff at me for taking a childhood promise so seriously. My heart ached for Kenny and the idea of him marrying some random woman drove me nuts. The camera was simply a matter of insurance. It would allow me to keep an eye on him, especially if he--god forbid--brought the girl that I've been suspecting him of seeing home and to his room. I was also definitely not going to try to record him while being naked or anything.

I opened the sewing kit that I brought with me, carefully threading the needle in and out of the fabric and closing the gaping wound. Caressing the fur on its back and delicately patting it down to redistribute the stuffing inside its body, I whispered the rabbit a quiet apology as I left it in its original position on the cabinet.

I was prepared to leave when I took a final look at Kenny's bed. His blanket was in a jumbled mess, as were the bundle of dirty clothes he left piled up in the corner of his mattress while he was rushing to leave for class early in the morning. There was a t-shirt, some sweat pants, and his boxer briefs. I felt my dick harden--forming a little bulge in my skin-tight shorts as I made a mental note of how the clothes were arranged within the messy stack. I guess it inevitable. I suppose my raw urges always exceeded my reason when it came to Kenny.

My mind numbed and in heat, I climbed into the middle of his bed. Leaning my head back and against his old pillow, I fondled the sensitized tip of my cock through the elastic material of my shorts. This always felt so good. A jolt of electricity went across my body and towards my hardening rod. My eyelids fluttered and my heart skipped a beat. A lewd dollop of thick precum seeped through the stretchy cloth, only somewhat strained from my erect four inch dick.

My breaths grew shallow and ragged as I continually jerked myself. I absentmindedly peered at his heap of dirty laundry again. I crawled towards it on all fours like a manic dog, tossing clothes aside until I found his prized underwear. To be honest, I never had an ounce of guilt during these sessions. Granted it was a complete invasion of his privacy, to me at least, I whole-heartedly believed everything of his deserved to be mine and that all of me deserved to be his.

I scrunched up his briefs brought the ball of polyester fabric to my nose, inhaling deeply and shamelessly taking in his manly musk. Fuck, he smelled like such a stud.

I wrenched down the front of my short's waistband to where it was below my petite, smoothed nut sacks and digging into my perineum. Released from its captivity, my dick flung out and smacked lightly onto my soft belly. I stroked it and pulled on my foreskin, exposing my red-hot tip that pulsed rhythmically with my sexy older brother in its little mind.

I played with and pinched my nipples through the oversized sweatshirt I had recently reappropriated from Kenny's closet. I sniffed his boxers again and resumed masturbating, but there was just something that was missing and I didn't think I was going to cum like this. I bolted to his desk--locating his lotion pump bottle and one of his thicker, grip-less pens. I pumped a generous amount of lotion into my right palm, lathering some of it around the surface of the pen and leaving the rest in my hand.

Returning to the warmth of his bed, I pressed my face into his underwear that was on top of the mattress, raising my bubbly hips in the air so I could now fap my lubed cock while inserting his writing utensil into my aching rectum. It felt so incredibly wrong to use his pens like this all the time. But the thought of him using it later or maybe even biting it in serious contemplation utterly got my rocks off.

I pushed myself harder into the bed, suffocating myself in his scent and biting down on the fabric to suppress my high-pitched moans. I loved this kind of breath play too. I knew Kenny was a tender man, but I imagined him pounding my tight little boy pussy with reckless abandon and choking my thin, pale neck with his veiny hands.

He would then soften his grip on my neck and pause his thrusting momentarily to kiss me hungrily with his tongue as we stared into each other's eyes. The thought of that drove me past the edge. I twitched and spasmed uncontrollably as ropes of my hot cum shot all over his bed sheets. Shit, I guess I'm definitely doing laundry today then.

II.

"Help me clean the house, Kenny!," I said out loud, happy to see my brother open the room to my childhood bedroom.

"What did I tell you about calling me that?," he said, annoyed with his nickname as per usual. He might as well have dropped the angry act, because there was no way I was going to stop calling him Kenny. It was my pet name for him.

I dropped the fake cabbage and tomato into the plastic pot on the miniature countertop and brought it over the stove burner. I twisted the stove knob and pretended to stir the vegetable stew and add different seasonings into it.

"So...what are you doing?," he asked, walking behind me. His voice was higher pitched at that point in the past.

"Cooking dinner for us. I need your help...You're supposed to be the husband, you know? Help your wife around the house whenever you can before going to bed and getting ready for work the next day."

"Oh, sure," he accepted.

Kenny pretended to organize the things around my room. He stacked the loose papers on the table in the center of space, examining my sketches of our house and him and I together. He collected the scattered colored pencils and slotted them neatly back into the metal container. I heard the door open and saw Mom standing in the doorway.

She gave me a funny look and turned to Kenny, saying to him, "What are you two doing?"

"We're playing house, Mom," he answered.

"...Kent, you need to stop coddling your brother and entertaining his every wish......Those stupid Masons and buying other people's children what they think they'll like. Uhh...You need to quit goofing around, Blake, and begin acting like a proper boy so that you'll become your own man someday and not some housewife."

I hated hearing her saying that stuff. I stared down at the stovetop, trying to ignore her. I put the lid on the pot, wishing it was my mother and that she would shut up.

Moving between us, Kenny defended me, "Why can't Blake be a housewife if he wants to, Mom? Why does he need to be 'his own man' if I can stay by his side and provide for us?"

She squinted her eyes at him and shook her head in frustration.

"Do you even hear yourself? You'll each have your own wife and family one day and you're making it sound as if you're going to marry your own brother. You can't expect to live off of your older brother your whole life, Blake."

"Leave him alone, Mom!," Kenny yelled in anger. Now he had done it, from her perspective.

"Both of you, grounded! Go to your room, Kent. And Blake, I better not catch you playing with that kitchen set again. I'm going to have your father get rid of it. Good lord...I just don't know what to do with you two..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DING! I was taken out of my daydream about those old memories by the noise of the elevator, indicating that I had arrived at the basement floor. The laundry room of our apartment complex was relatively quiet, which was expected given that it was early afternoon on a Tuesday. I preferred this sort of environment anyways because I didn't like drawing much attention. At least it was the city though, so people were more accepting of me--albeit most people thought I was a girl upon seeing my clothing style and short hair with bangs.

I hurriedly loaded our laundry into two machines and poured the detergent into the drawers. The machines started in a hum and I turned around to take the elevator back upstairs and wait. At that exact moment, our next-door neighbor Kaylee showed up and walked past the elevator doors.

"Oh my gosh. It's so good to see you, Blake!," she exclaimed.

"Oh, uh. I guess it has been a while, huh, Kaylee?," I said.

Kaylee was a buoyant, outgoing person and was maybe just a tad older than my brother. She had long, sandy brown hair, the bluest eyes, and a freckled, rather pretty face. I'm quite sure she was single. She was kinda prying and overly talkative in my opinion so I mostly tried to keep out of her way.

She pulled me aside to the corner of the small room between the laundromat and elevators. I don't know why she was always this excited to see me. I couldn't tell if she wanted to be friends with me because I was her gay neighbor or if she was only using me to get to Kenny.

"So...what have you been up to recently?," she asked.

"I mean...same-same, you know? Just working on my online classes, taking care of the apartment, and drawing a little from time to time."

"What was it that you were studying again?"

"Computer science. Yeah--I'm doing an online degree program so it's easier for me to stay at home and care for Kenny."

"Oh, that's right," she said, staring off into the laundry room. She continued, "Hey, I haven't seen Kenny in a bit. How's he been?"