My Brother's Costume Started It

**All character's in this story are 18 years of age or older. This story includes incest, explicit lgbtq theming, some softdom and sub dynamics, and anal fingering**

Papa was yelling at Michael this morning over breakfast because of his costume. Apparently Michael lost a bet with his friends and had to dress up in one of those cheap 'Sexy Nurse' outfits, but that didn't seem to matter much to Papa. Micheal looked a little silly to be honest. He was always kind of lanky, but his legs were nice... and also shaved? He was always enthusiastic about whatever he did, so I guess this is just part of that go-getter attitude of his. I tried to step in before Papa's face got any redder saying, "I know right! That outfit looks terrible on you, bro. Don't worry, Papa! I'll help him get ready!"

I shined the most annoying smile you could imagine and pushed my brother into the hallway and we scuttled to my rooms without Michael saying anything. When we got to my room Michael was already crying. I wasn't ready for this, but I played big sister and acted pointedly casual. I took the dinky little nurse hat off of his head and ruined the microfiber cloth I used for my glasses rushing to wipe his face. Scrambling to figure out what to say I awkwardly hit him on the shoulder with a, "Hey champ, what's going on?"

He looked legitimately confused, "Champ? What?"

"Uh, I mean like, what's wrong? You don't usually let dad get to you when he gets shitty about something stupid."

He was staring at the ground, widening his eyes as wide as they'd go. I don't think that really works to stop someone from crying, but he seemed to be calming down somewhat. After a couple of deep breaths he said it wasn't anything important. This was clearly not true, but I had to figure out the safest way to prod him, but I couldn't think of how to broach the subject. I tried leaning in on the awkward vibe and said, "Well, uh, champ, what about your costume? How are you gonna go through the trouble of shaving your legs just to wear something so cheap?"

He froze for a moment, before nervously rubbing the back of his neck. I thought he would at least say something. Maybe it was worse than I thought. Maybe he really didn't want to wear the costume. I took a wild swing and asked, "Are you being bullied?"

"Huh? Oh no, it really was just a bet with my friends. You know the guys good enough to know that's not it," he said sitting down on my bed.

"Well I don't know what to say, because you aren't telling me anything. I know I can be a little clumsy when it comes to stuff like this, but you know you can trust me to at least try, right?"

"Yeah," he smiled like he said something funny, "You've always been pretty clumsy."

"I meant about emotional stuff!"

"I know what you meant, sorry. I'm just nervous."

"Don't be nervous, Champ! You can tell me anything!" I wish I could stop saying 'Champ,' Jesus Christ. Micheal seemed to gloss over it though.

"I can? Well, like I said, I really did lose the bet, but they didn't make me shave my legs. That was my idea."

"Oh yeah? Wanted to give it your all, huh?"

"Well... I think that. I think that I really just wanted an excuse to try it."

"Shaving your legs?"

"Yeah, I know some guys can get away with it because they swim or whatever, but I figured if I tried it, I would just get shit from everyone. Halloween kind of gave me a reason, I guess."

"Plausible deniability,"

"Yeah,"

"Well I think you'll be fine once you get out of the house,"

"Yeah, I can't wait to move out," he looked like he was going to cry again. He opened up already so maybe I could be more straightforward about comforting him? I risked hugging him and he hugged back really tightly. At this point I was bent over like a shrimp and tried to finesse a way into sitting down beside him without seeming like I'm trying to leave the hug. I was still kind of wrenched into facing him, but I could at least stroke the back of his head without worrying about falling over.

"I meant for school this morning," I said as I held him. He nodded into my shoulder and I just sat there. I cooed and hummed like a mother, or at least how I'd like to imagine I would be as a mother. I don't know if it was anything especially comforting for him, but it made me feel like I knew what I was doing.

"Is it weird that I want to shave my legs?"

"No."

"Is it weird that I want to wear this costume?"

"No, it's Halloween. A lot of people are wearing costumes."

"What if I wore it outside of halloween?"

"That would be weird. With legs like yours, you should wear a nice enough dress so people won't be distracted by that big 'Party City' badge sewn onto the pocket." That made him dart up and now he was staring at me, like 3 inches from my face. I could feel breath crawl up the bridge of my nose. He was taller than me, but was so hunched over from crying that he was looking up at me for the first time in several years.

"I should wearing a prettier dress?"

"I mean, if that's what you want to do!" This conversation was kind of getting away from me. I don't think Micheal is gay. We both knew this trans girl in highschool before she dropped out, but she said she knew she was a girl by like, third grade. Shit, did I ever say anything bad to Micheal about trans people? I don't remember anything like that, but I might have. I mean, not to assume that he's trans. I mean maybe I should ask? That's a big question. If I was wrong, how bad would this make this? If I pretend it didn't cross my mind, would I be being dismissive? Maybe I really should--

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by that, Sis."

His voice shook me out of the death spiral and I said, "No! No! I just was trying to figure out what to say! There's just a lot of ways this conversation could go and I don't want to like, make huge, wrong assumptions about you or anything. I don't want to fuck up and make you think you can't talk to me about anything!"

"Can you help me dress up tomorrow?"

"Of course! My skirts might be a little short on you, so I hope you don't mind looking a little sexy, haha." Micheal blushed deeply and squeezed me one last time before getting up and leaving my room. I got up and went into the hallways and watched his head dart around like a lizard's looking for dad before sprinting for the door as his skirt hiked around his ass. I laughed obnoxiously loud at the orange panties that had 'Bad Bitch' written in pink.

-- -- --

It's been six weeks since I first dressed Micheal up and they have been getting me to help them every weekend. We would go drive to the city and walk around together or with their friend Jason. Jason was super sweet about the situation, but also worse than I was about saying something stupid or weird. Micheal could pick out their own clothes, but they were such a baby about doing make-up, so I had to learn how to do eyeliner on someone who writhed and bitched the whole time. I was never super into fashion, but they constantly asked my opinion on things, so I wound up following fashion accounts on social media and reading listicles to pretend like me and my friends talked about anything besides softball and whatever dumb shit our friend Megan did most recently.

Micheal's been shaving their legs under the context of it being 'too itchy' to let it grow out, which annoys Papa but seems to work as an excuse. I was right about my skirts being too short on Micheal, but they don't seem to mind. They've also been dressing me up too. It kind of makes me feel like a big Barbie, but it's kind of fun. At first they would make suggestions and then leave the room, but as we got more comfortable, we would change in front of each other and make weird comments about each other's bodies. Micheal had a weirdly plump ass. They would always have on underwear, but the panties didn't hide the general shape of things, and the narrow gussets would sometimes have part of their dick peeking out like a cartoon character trying to hide behind a telephone pole. They recently picked up running because apparently the anxiety of this being a secret to only them was why they used to never eat. They got a little pudgy and panicked about not being able to fit in my clothes. I tried to tell them a bit of belly fat made them look cuter and they seemed to short circuit.

They were staring at my titties one day when I was just wearing my bra, and I suddenly felt really self-conscious. I mean they had stolen looks at them before, but I didn't really think much of it. I was kind of pale so my embarrassment just deepened the redness on my chest and face in a way that kind of fed into itself. "You can grow your own you know," I said trying to take control of the situation in the stupidest manner possible. They just laughed and told me that I was beautiful. I didn't know what to say so I just pushed them a little too hard and laughed. They were wearing this pink cotton skirt that we bought for both of us. I never really wore skirts casually like that, but I wanted to support them and kind of got into the consciously girly attitude myself. It was a comfortable one, but thin. I could see the shape of their legs from the way it fell between them. I could see the outline of their genitals, which, according to this particular skirt, were hanging out of their panties. I dragged my eyes across their whole body. Micheal hadn't finished getting dressed, so the only thing besides their skirt was a thin white camisole that was tight over their body. A little bit of belly showed as they laid on my bed.

Half a minute went by before I realized I had been looking at them like a creeper. They weren't saying anything but it looked like their face was redder than mine. I apologized for pushing them and they replied, "You can keep looking if you want." They still hadn't moved. I was mumbling about how that wasn't necessary as I looked at their neck. It was still so thin. I never really noticed how thin their neck was. I know what would suit them. I ran over to my drawer and pulled out a wide black silk ribbon. I rushed to them saying, "Hold on, I got it!"

"Got what? Oh fuck your knee just went into my ribs!"

They complained but I was already lifting up their head and pulling their hair behind the ribbon. I tied it snug, but hopefully not too tightly, around their neck in a bow. They looked just like a present. They were fingering the impromptu choking and I slapped their hand away. "Quit it! You look so cute like that, don't fuck it up!"

"Could you get up?"

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry, haha. Sudden Inspiration." I had been sitting on their belly in my underwear without even thinking. I got up off of them and looked back to see they had sat up and hunched over. "Hey could you lay back down? You had this kind of modern, princessy vibe with the way your hair was spread out. It looks really good long by the way."

"Sure, but don't freak out."

"Why would I freak out?"

"Well, uh, I got a little hard while you were tying this ribbon."

"Oh. Oh! Yeah, that's just like a physical response, haha. You didn't do anything, haha."

"I feel like you're freaking out. I'm sorry, but it'll go away in a second."

"No! I just. I guess I thought you were gay? I mean queer. I mean, uh, I mean that you liked men?"

"I don't but it's fun that you are somehow more embarrassed right now."

"Well I've always been clumsy, haha... ha."

I sat on the bed at their feet and kind of slumped in defeat. I didn't want to look at them for fear of making this somehow more awkward. They started poking my thigh with their toes. Their calves were so smooth. They said I could keep looking right? I looked up and they were still laying back, with one hand on their lap. It looks like they tucked it under the band of their panties. Their hand covered some of it, but the thicker material at the top of the skirt didn't hide as much as I think they were planning on. It was dangerously close to being outside of the skirt. The very top of the band was raised. They said I could look right?

"You're so pretty, Sis."

That startled me, but I squeaked out a "you're pretty too, baby." I know how it sounds, but I'd been calling them that in a jokey sort of way ever since this dude hit on us at a cafe. He called Micheal baby and I say a confused mixture of joy and discomfort dance across their face, so I teased them a bit on the way home.

"I like it when you call me baby," he said gently, "it reminds me of Mom."

"I miss Mom too," but I was still staring at the way their hand cupped over their skirt. I was looking up at them every now and then to make sure they weren't uncomfortable. Every time our eyes met they just smiled. The subtle movements in their neck flex the bow I'd tied. Their camisole was riding up the torso. I was getting wet. This last realization kind of scared me, but I liked that too. I don't think I've ever really thought of them in this way, but so much has changed. I asked them in a voice I nearly hoped was too quiet to hear, "You said I can look right?"

"Yeah."

"Can I pull up your shirt?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'm sorry I think my hands are cold."

"That's okay. You've been rubbing my leg for like 2 minutes now anyway."

"Whoopsie!" I said in a voice so weird I immediately regretted it. They flinched when my index finger went under their shirt. The only thing I could focus on was how soft their skin felt against the heel of my palm. My hand made it all the way up the chest before a sharp breath from Micheal stopped me. Did I make them uncomfortable? Was it too much? I was asking myself all sorts of questions as I realized I was basically cupping them. Did they start growing breasts? No, they weren't on HRT I don't think. I guess they did gain a little bit of weight. Do men's chests feel like this too?

"Can I take your shirt off?"

"Please don't, I'm a little nervous."

I jerked back in a panic. Oh shit, I went way too far. Too far? Where was I going? I'm still wet. That's where I was going. Oh fuck, I'm going cry in front of them because I did something gross. Micheal would try to comfort me too. That just makes this worse.

"I'm sorry! I don't know what came over me! You just have such nice skin!"

"It's okay, Sis. You can touch me, but I'm self conscious about my chest."

"I can... touch you?"

"Yeah, the mood's kind of weird right?"

"Yeah, I don't know what's happening."

"Sorry if my boner made things too weird for you."

"Nah, that's fine. I'm. I'm, uh. I'm a little wet too. I think its just physics"

"Physics?"

"Biology, whatever. Is it weird that I really like your belly button?"

"A little, but you've always been kind of weird."

"Haha, maybe. I think it's that little bit of weight you gained. Your belly button kind of makes you look sexy." I was absently tracing around their stomach while I spoke. I wanted to look a little closer, so I asked if I could lean in. Micheal said it was fine so I nearly laid my head on them as I played with the thin layer of fat around their belly button. God they smelled good. I would catch on the upper side as I dragged my finger over it and back over it. Their body would touch my face when they breathed in. Their breaths were deep and uneven. I feel like I was checking to see if a table was uneven. My eyes scanned the landscape of their body in this odd angle when I noticed the head of their cock resting in the shadow of the waistband of the skirt. I tried to act like nothing changed, because I didn't want to risk this chance to really look at it. It was a deep red. What wasn't red had an olive tone that seemed different from the rest of their body. We really were siblings, huh. My pussy is the same way. The head was glistening from precum that had pooled beneath it.

I risked it and touched some of the precum and slid my finger around in a zig-zag pattern that hopefully felt casual. They stopped breathing for a moment. I decided to keep zipping my finger around to see if that could obscure my intentions. I felt their arm that I was resting on top of trying to wriggle free. I raised up and prepared to leave this weird little dimension we were in. I looked up and their had craned their head to look at me. They smiled again and then pulled me to their chest.

"Jason tried to fuck me last week."

"Huh? Tried! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I don't mean he assaulted me, but he came on after you went inside last week. You remember how I stayed outside to talk to him?"

"Yeah... was that what ya'll talked about?"

"Not at first, but we were joking around after some bullshitting about the exam coming up, when it kinda picked at the hem of my skirt and started playing around with it. Not like raising all the way up or anything. Just kind of fiddling. He said that he really liked how I looked now, but we wouldn't be able to date for real until we graduated. I was a little confused, but I figured out enough to reject him when he said something about meeting up in secret. Did I seemed like I was into him?"

"No not really, but more importantly, are you sure you're okay?"

"I am! I just started thinking about who I'd want to date. If I'd want to date. That kind of thing."

"Did you come up with any answers?" My chest felt a little tight, but I managed to maintain a casual tone.

"Not really. Right now I don't feel like I'd be good to date. I feel ugly and I don't want to have to ask someone to constantly compliment me to make me feel better, haha."

"You're beautiful, baby." I don't really think I sounded very jokey, but this situation is messy as hell. I might as well say whatever I want and hope it comes across well. I rubbed their stomach saying, "Micheal, you know I'm not just saying that right?"

"You're the only one that seems to mean it, Sis."

"Micheal, can I keep calling you baby even if it isn't a joke?"

"You can call me whatever you want, Sis."

"Baby, can I compliment you some more? I really want to, but I don't want it to sound like I'm doing it out of obligation."

"You can say anything you want to, Sis."

"I think you're really sexy. I really like you wearing shorter skirts. Thin, short, stretchy ones are the best I bet. One day could we buy one just for at home?"

"Can I ask you to do something for me?"

"Anything."

"Remember when you held me on Halloween?"

"Yeah, I'm so sorry that's how everything got started."

"When you held me you started humming and that felt really nice."

"So you want me to start humming?"

"Sorry, no, I'm chickening out of what I really want to ask."

"Don't worry, even if it's a no-go I won't get mad or anything."

"Promise?"

I was feeling pretty brave, so I kissed him on the cheek and whispered in his ear, "I promise."

"Could you touch me more? More places I mean."

"Like where?"

"Would I still be pretty without my skirt on?"

"You'd be pretty no matter what you're wearing."

"I'm just worried I'll just start looking like a boy if I take it off."

"Don't worry. I don't know any boys that wear a choker like this," I said as I rubbed their throat with my thumb."

"When I take my skirt off, will you touch me where you want to?"

"Where I want to?"

"Yeah wherever you want to."

"Say it, say where you think I want to touch you and I'll touch you there," I was getting restless, but we were both clearly nervous about how little of what we said can be taken back. Still, I've been so nervous for so long. I wanted to teased them a little bit more.

"I want you to put your hand in my panties and... I want you to put your hand in my panties and rub me. Could you rub me like it was a pussy?"

Micheal looked more scared than I've ever seen them. They had gone a little pale and I suddenly realized why they might've been reluctant to say it more outright. I hugged them on impulse. I told them I would. Of course I would. I cooed and hummed and promised to touch them where I wanted. They got so much bigger as I held them. They were nearly completely out of their skirt. I think I figured out what was going on, but I thought I would ask.