Disclaimer: I don't owe anything (duh, what did you expect?)

Author's note: for any fascistic or very-religious people under you, please send me a swear-letter! I'm dying to get one!

Author's note 2: Yes, this story has already been here, but thenI didn't rate it well and it was kicked off... So for all safety, I rate this M, but the worse that's in it is kissing!

I called him brother. My brother. And then he'd look so strange. A sort of mix between eagerness and disappointment.

He always was there when I needed him. I'd go to the field he was working, and when he saw me he'd stop with whatever he was doing and come to me. And he'd talk to me and lay an arm around me. My brother. Because that's how older brothers behave, isn't it?

I remember the first time I met him. His mother and he came to live in our village, with his uncle. His father had died. He was eight, and looked like twelve. I was watching from behind the window of my room, sick again, looking five and actually seven. He pulled a big barrow, totally alone, his mother behind him. There was sweat on his brown, but when he finally could put the barrow down, he laughed good-humouredly. He looked around and saw me. I was watching him with good interest and we stared for some time at each other. We both didn't mind. My mother came in and pulled me away from the window because I otherwise would be sick again.

After that I saw him often, when he came back or went to the field. We eventually became friends and he always was with me, though he could easily have befriended any child in the village. He was very popular, my brother. We played in the forests and the fields, as far as possible from the village, for he didn't like his mother. I'm sure she loved him, at any rate, but when I told him so, he'd snort and talk about something else.

Later, the girls got attention for him too. He was very handsome. His black hair, blacker than coal, was short, so it wouldn't fall in his eyes when he worked. His eyes were of a magnetic black and his muscles rolled under his olive-brown skin when he worked. When he laughed you saw his white teeth and he had a long scar on his left arm of a wild bull.

My head rested on his chest and I listened to his quick heartbeat. "Your heart tries to jump out of your body."

His entire chest shuddered when he laughed. "You're the only one I know who'd say that."

"I'm too the ugliest one you know."

"No. You're beautiful."

"No. You are beautiful. I'm ugly. I look like a girl."

"But a very handsome one."

"Stop that, Judas."

"Alright." He put a finger under my chin and lifted it, so I had to look him in the eye. "For me, Jesus, you're the most beautiful person in the world."

"More beautiful than Esther?"

"A lot more than Esther." His arms gently embraced me and my toes curled up. He was deliciously warm. My brother.

He was completely different from me. I looked like a girl. My hair was of a very light brown, almost fair and while his hands were covered with coarse callosity, mine were very soft, because my mother insisted I and my father put our hands in the water with herbs she prepared for us, so there would be no callosity on our hands. My father always shrugged then, but did as she told. I only liked my eyes. They were of a soft, dark brown, almost gold. My brother always said that if he'd sell my eyes he'd be rich.

Although he did get much attention from the other sex, he never stayed long with one. And he'd always come back. Then we'd go to the forest again, chase each other, push each other in the brook and finally fall exhausted next to each other in the grass, until it was so cold his warm arms couldn't protect me from shivering anymore and we'd return to the village.

We ran through the long, waving grass. My breath cut in my chest and I heard him gasping behind me when he started to catch up with me. He made a jump and grasped my waist, so we both fell. We rolled over each other, of the hill, first I above him, then under him. We laughed. Down the hill we finally stopped, he above me, his knees around my waist so I wouldn't be able to escape, and his hands pushing my wrists on the ground. He looked down on me, his mouth slightly open, his waist pushing against mine. His eyes shone, filled with… what? Happiness? Love? Desire? Anger? Hatred? It was all possible.

"You can go off me now, Judas," I smiled. "You've won."

He didn't move. He just kept looking at me, with his eyes glittering. A boy of fourteen, looking down on a boy of thirteen.

"Judas?" My voice started to sound slightly anxious. "You're a little heavy."

"Oh, yes. Of course. Sorry." He quickly rolled off me, but kept looking at me. I smiled and moved closer to him, lying my head against his shoulder. There I closed my eyes and felt his fingers twiddle with a lock of my hair.

"Jesus," he muttered.

"My Judas," I mumbled. His warmth was overwhelming. Together with the warm sunbeams they soothed me into sleep. "My brother." I thought he looked so strange again, his strange mix between desire and sorrow.

We grew up together. After some time they started to call us the twins. I talked with him about everything, the way the world was, why everything was so unfair. In addition to the grown-ups, he was always interested in what I said. And sometimes I even surprised him with what I said. He wasn't always my older brother; sometimes I had to be that. Like when we both had fallen asleep in the forest and I woke up because he was having a nightmare. He mumbled and yelled in his sleep. I had much trouble in waking him up, and when I had finally managed to do that, he started to cry, clinging onto me. Then I was the one who had to put my arms around him and gently soothe him, stroking his hair. When he stopped weeping, it took minutes before he wanted to let go of me; it was like he was afraid I'd disappear.

Only seldom we had a fight. The first one was about Job. He was the bully of all the children, and he seemed to have especially a problem with me. One time he and his friends had forced me in a corner and were just about to beat me up when Judas came back. He gave Job a hard hit on his nose, so blood streamed out of it, and they all run away. I was so angry with him. I shouted. I didn't think he expected me to. I had never shouted at him before. He shouted back. I said he shouldn't have hit Job, because it had hurt him. He asked why not; should he just have watched while they hurt me? I told him that I didn't care what he should've done; it wasn't because Job wanted to hit me hat Judas had the right to hit him. We didn't speak for two days. After that he came back, grudgingly telling me he had apologized to Job; was I satisfied? I laughed and gave him a kiss on his cheek. He looked so surprised I started to laugh again.

"Who's it now?" Our wet shirts, wet from us falling in the brook, hang upon in the tree Judas leant against. His chest was covered with some hair, not to much, just enough. He had a small stubble spread out over his chin. My chest was of course completely smooth and I was clean shaven.

He lazily opened an eye and replied: "At the moment- no one."

"I thought you and Ruth-"

"No. I broke up." The eye closed again.


"She was getting very annoying. Wanted me to spend all my time with her."

"That's not a very strange request. You are -were- her boyfriend after all."

"Yeah, but she was getting so jealous too. And we didn't actually talk about anything. All we did was kissing."

"Did you kiss a girl?"

"Of course." Now his both eyes opened and he stared curious at me. "Have you never?"

I became red and looked away. "No." I muttered, so soft I hoped he hadn't heard me.

I assumed he had, for he started to grin. "You're kidding. How old are you now?"

"You know very well I'm fifteen," I snapped. I didn't like that he, of all people, laughed with me.

"And never kissed a girl. Sad life you must've had." When he saw my expression, he tried to hide his amused face. "How'd you kiss a girl?"

"How-?" I blinked.

"Com'on. Practice on me." He closed his eyes and leant back against the tree.

I hesitated. I bowed over him and gave him a quick kiss on the mouth, a short brush of the lips. Then I sat straight again, feeling very hot in the face. He looked amused at me again. "I'd be glad if I were you. The girl'd have probably started laughing."

"Don't laugh with me, Judas."

"Alright. Here. Let me show you." Now he bowed over me and I leant back, trying to get away and avoid him without him noticing it. Our breath mingled for a moment when he stopped just before his lips touched mine. Then he pushed himself against me. From his mouth hot electricity diffused through my entire body. His lips slowly kneaded mine and his hands, with a pleasant roughness, were everywhere. Softly scratching my back, caressing my chest, in my hair, stroking my thighs. Then something warm flickered for a moment against my under lip. I moaned, why I didn't now. There it was again. It started to part my lips, but I found I was opening them myself already. The next moment his tongue was in my mouth, exploring, caressing my own. I noticed my hands were caressing his cheek and neck and hair and shoulders while I tried to push him even closer to me. Then suddenly we lay on the ground. Our naked bellies touched and he moaned, gasped and let go of me. We both panted and stared at each other.

"Is- is it always like that when you kiss a girl?" I choked out.

"Sort of." There came a strange smile on his face, half shy, half yearning. He watched me from the corner of his eye.

Of course there was nothing wrong. Judas was my older brother; he didn't mean it like that, Right?


That was it. Did you like it? Review, pleaaaase (puppyeyes)?