Marco Makes A Deal (Patreon)

This story was inspired by BeefGenius' suggestion of "Douchebag fixes his nerdy younger brother". I hope you all enjoy and don't forget to keep an eye on the discord so you catch my next call for six word ideas!

Simply put, Marco considered his younger brother to be a miserable disappointment of a sibling. Rather than doing anything admirable with his life, Garrick had decided he was going to be a science fiction novelist, and even though his books hadn’t even made him all that much money, their parents were always going on about how proud they were of him for pursuing his dreams with such fervour. In Marco’s eyes though his little brother was not only setting himself up for failure but also making a stain on their family’s reputation. Marco had already heard a few of his buds making jokes about Garrick being a fruit and suggesting that their pops had raised him wrong. Marco was a family man through and through though and if his brother was jeopardizing how the neighborhood perceived their family then he took that issue personally.

It wouldn’t have been an issue if Garrick had just followed in his older brother’s footsteps and taken a job with their father’s construction company but no, he was too good for that. Garrick had always been much more bookish than Marco and while he’d participated in sports back in high school, it had only been as a track runner, rather than the undefeated wrestling star like Marco himself. Despite his lesser achievements though, their parents had always gushed over Garrick and how brave he was for carving out his own path. They never said it out loud but Marco interpreted those repeated remarks as a declaration that the youngest son was the favored of the pair, and that had been the root of his long-lasting bitterness.

After the latest edition of their monthly Sunday dinner get-togethers, Marco finally decided that he’d had enough of Garrick. The younger man had spent the entirety of the meal sharing his plans for each of the main characters in the novel he was currently writing, and his parents had indulged him while Marco was left wondering why they were actually supposed to give a shit. He sat and endured the dreadful experience but by the time it was over and he’d made his hasty goodbyes to return to his own apartment on the rougher side of time, Marco had begun to formulate a plan. He’d heard rumors about one of his neighbors being heavily involved in the occult and while he was no big believer in voodoo and all that bullshit, there were some who insisted that the guy was legit. It’s worth at least checking out, he rationalised.

Marco had never actually met this neighbor face-to-face before, but when he finally did, he wasn’t ashamed to admit that Broderick was nothing like the kind of guy he had expected him to be. It was hard to imagine that a guy who stood at six-foot-five and weighed over three-hundred pounds of thick muscle was the kind of guy to have an interest in the occult, and yet the whispers around the neighborhood had been explicitly clear: the owner of flat number thirteen had access to powers beyond human understanding. The sturdily-built man’s face lit up with a devilish smile as he looked down at the construction worker. Marco was no shrimp but even he felt somewhat dwarfed by the other man’s bulk. “Lemme guess,” the man began, the impossibly deep bass of his voice sending shivers down Marco’s spine. “You want me to use some of that famous magic mojo people say I’ve got to sort out some problem of yours?”

Well, there’s no point beating around the bush. “Somethin’ like that, yeah,” Marco grunted in response, subconsciously lowering his own voice in an attempt to match the other’s deep tones. “You gonna invite a fella in or not?” The self-assured nature of his response earned a brief chuckle from the larger man, who then stepped aside to allow Marco entry. Before long he was spread out on the living room sofa, explaining the delicate issue of his brother to Broderick, who had taken residence in a nearby armchair. His eyes had remained locked on Marco for the entirety of his tale and once it was over, he only nodded. “So, you think you can make a real man outta him?”

“Oh, I know I can,” Broderick replied, his lips spreading into a smirk as he leaned forward as if preparing to share a secret among close friends. “But it’s gonna cost ya. Magic don’t come for free, boy. No, it don’t!” Marco’s insistence that he had enough coin saved up to pay at least a couple hundred bucks towards it was met by laughter. “Oh, I ain’t talking about money, you don’t gotta worry about that. Magic needs something… more. Your word.” The man’s smirk became practically wolfish as Marco asked him to elaborate. “Once I’ve warped your brother’s reality, you’ll be indebted to me. I just gotta have your word that you’ll do whatever I ask of you.”

A number of possibilities swam through Marco’s mind as for what Broderick might want him to do: scare off an enemy, take a female relative out on a doubt, perform some manual labour without payment. As strange as he perceived the other man to be, Marco doubted that he might be asked to do anything too untowards, so he figured it was a good deal to make. Rising to his feet, he extended a hand towards the other. “You’ve got a deal… and my word,” he confirmed.

Broderick stood to tower over him once again and clasped Marco’s hand with an iron grip. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow morning, eh?” he suggested. “I’ll take care of your ‘brother issue’ once the moon’s properly aligned.” Such matters were beyond what Marco cared to bother himself with, so he agreed and made himself scarce, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. If Broderick and his occult practices weren’t total bogus then hopefully things would be a little easier going forward. Maybe Garrick would even be the kind of guy who’d actually go out for beers on a Friday night, rather than turning his nose up at the prospect of drinking alcohol, like some holier-than-thou prude.

On the other side of their small town, Garrick had no idea what the night had in store for him. He settled into bed after re-reading through the chapter he had finished drafting up earlier that day, content with the progress he was making. He was full of hope that his latest creation was going to finally be the novel that sent him rocketing into the mainstream and looked forward to being able to rub his success in the face of his narrow-minded older brother. He loved Marco dearly, he truly did, he just wished that the other wasn’t so fixated on his singular idea of what a man should be and accepted Garrick for who he truly was.

As the warmth of his sheets and the comfort of his pillow lured him into what was supposed to be a peaceful night of sleep though, the sinister snakes of Broderick’s magic wormed their way into Garrick’s home and began their unholy work. The man himself was the first to fall victim to the invading energies, with the first sign of irregularity coming as his slender body began to swell like a balloon being pumped full of air. His once flat chest began to rise like dough; mountainous pecs forming at the end of a field of firm abdominals. His shoulders were stretched out to a broader shape that better matched the large expanse of his chest, while his thin arms blossomed into muscular cannons, packed with power and ready to split the seams of any sleeves that dared try to contain them.

Garrick’s lower half experienced the same sort of rapid expansion, his legs forming thick tree trunks composed of hard quads and bulging calves, and the massive inflation of his ass cheeks lifted his midsection an inch or two further off of the mattress. Even the less obvious parts of his body fell victim to Broderick’s magic: his neck thickened, his feet widened and palms calloused. A forest of dark hair soon spread across the impressive physical landscape of Garrick’s body and particularly settled around his smooth jawline, producing a thick and unkempt beard. As if those changes weren’t quite enough, the tanned skin of his arms and shoulders were decorated by ink just under the surface, leaving him with two full sleeves of various tribal symbols, many of which matched those on his older brother’s arms.

Broderick’s supernatural influence wasn't merely limited to Garrick’s physical form though, as it seeped into the novelist’s mind and began to rewire it to better fit a man of such an admirable physique. His impressive vocabulary was stripped right back to the basics and his knowledge of literature was completely eradicated, with the empty space left behind filled instead with the more useful ability to construct a fulfilling workout whenever he hit the gym and how to operate the heavy machinery of their father’s construction company. Indeed, his memory was redecorated to feature countless moments where he had been right beside Marco, learning how to be a man from their Pops and getting trained to one day take over the family business as a pair of close-knit brothers. His polite manners and sensitive nature were also corrupted, leaving him just as crude and arrogant as his older brother, although he saw no reason to feel shame over either of those things.

Even the apartment Garrick owned changed as a result of Broderick’s tampering, with the neat interior being replaced by what any mother might describe as a “pigsty”, the floor covered in dirty clothes, empty pizza boxes and crushed beer cans. The high-class art pieces that had hung on his walls turned into posters he’d had since a teenager, that of a pair topless bimbos making out. He’d jerked off to it more times than he could possibly count - which wasn’t saying much, considering numbers got real difficult for him after ten. Finally the location of his bedroom shifted entirely, from being in an apartment on the nicer side of town, to another room in Marco’s cheap digs.

Despite his entire reality being rewritten, Garrick continued to snore loudly and drool onto his pillow.

The next morning, Marco was delighted at the sight he discovered in what had previously been his empty guest room. There were a few other changes to the apartment that signalled his brother’s arrival but seeing the messy brute sprawled out on the bed awoke a feeling of pride within the older sibling. He was thrilled that Broderick had come through and delivered a brother that Marco no longer had to feel ashamed of. As the other had kept his word, Marco knew it was only right for him to do the same - he was a man of honour, after all - so he let his little brother sleep in for a little longer and made his way down to flat number thirteen.

Just as he’d anticipated, Broderick was awake and anticipating him despite the early hour. He welcomed Marco into his apartment, asked what he thought of the new Garrick, and then got straight to the point. He was calling for his payment immediately, and what he wanted absolutely stunned Marco: the hyper-masculine construction worker was to get down onto his knees and suck the other man’s cock! Marco felt like he’d been hit by a freight train. Had he really heard that correctly? He was as straight as an arrow and disgusted by the thought of pleasuring another man, and yet he was compelled to drop down to the ground and begin pulling at Broderick’s zipper.

Looking up at the smirking face of his brother’s corrupter, Marco came to the miserable realisation that he too had fallen under the sway of the larger man’s magic, and was completely helpless to resist. Despite his objection to engaging in “fairy activity”, even Marco had to admit that the bulge in Broderick’s tented boxers looked mighty inviting...