Jared sat on his bed that night, staring at his still-small older brother, who sat across from him with a deep, miserable frown, with jareds room was the only place his parents would leave him alone. The past few hours had been hilarious. Their parents were completely convinced—Jeff was now his younger brother, too weak, too small, too adorable for his own good. And best of all? No one questioned it.
Jared tapped his chin thoughtfully, watching Jeff sulk. “Y’know, little bro,” he said with a smirk, “I think something’s missing.”
Jeff glared at him, his tiny fists clenched. “You’ve done enough, Jared. Just let me go to sleep and turn me back... please.”
Jared chuckled. “Oh, I will. But first… I think I want you to be something more.”
Jeff’s stomach twisted. He hated the way Jared said that—hated the gleam in his eyes, the way he was enjoying every second of this.
“Jeff, you’re a nudist.”
The words hit Jeff like a shockwave.
His breath hitched, his mind reeling his clothes where off him and on the floor now and he was compliantly naked like there was nothing wrong with it. Something inside of him shifted, something changed. His skin tingled like static had washed over him, and then—just like that—he knew.
He was a nudist.
Not just that—it felt like he had always been a nudist. Like the very idea of wearing clothes was unnatural to him.
Jeff gasped, his tiny hands trembling as they instinctively reached for his pajama shirt—only to stop. His fingers hovered, unable to grip the fabric, unable to pull it off, as if an invisible force refused to let him dress.
Panic surged through him. “J-Jared—what did you do?!”
Jared burst into laughter. “Oh, this is priceless!”
Jeff’s breath came in short gasps as he scrambled to his feet, trying desperately to pull his pajamas on—but his hands wouldn’t work properly. He could touch clothes, hold them, but putting them on? Impossible.
“No—no, no, no—Jared, you can’t—”
“I can,” Jared said smugly. “And I did.”
Jeff's face burned red as he stumbled, clutching the blanket around himself like a shield. “P-please, I c-can’t—”
Jared’s smirk widened. “And you don’t want to, do you?”
Jeff froze.
His stomach twisted, his breathing uneven.
Jared was right.
Somewhere, deep in his mind, it felt right to be this way. Clothes felt wrong. Foreign. Like something he shouldn’t wear.
Jeff shook his head violently. “No—no, that’s not me! You—you did this to me!”
Jared shrugged. “Yeah. And?”
Jeff wanted to scream.
Then—
Their mom’s voice called up the stairs. “Boys! It’s getting late! Time for bed!”
Jared’s smirk returned. “Oh, yeah. Speaking of that…” He turned to Jeff with a wicked glint in his eyes. “From now on, we share a bed. You’re my little brother, after all. The weak, cute, helpless one. And I’m the big brother who looks out for you.”
Jeff gasped, shaking his head. “Jared, no—”
“Yes.”
And just like that, it was true.
The whole world believed it.
Their parents didn’t question a thing when they walked into the room, seeing Jeff huddled in Jared’s bed, wrapped in blankets. Their mom just smiled warmly. “Aww, that’s sweet! Jared, you’re such a good big brother, looking out for little Jeff.”
Their dad chuckled. “He’s always been the weaker one. Guess it makes sense for you two to stick together.”
Jeff's whole body burned with humiliation.
Jared just smirked as he slid into bed beside him, wrapping an arm around his “little” brother and pulling him close like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Goodnight, little bro,” he whispered mockingly.
Jeff clenched his eyes shut, trembling with rage.
This wasn’t over.
But Jared?
Jared was already thinking about what else he could do next cuddling his "little" sleeping brother next to him.