#forcemascing

this continues for a couple of weeks until your bro says, “hey, kiddo, make sure you’re washing your hands after this. it’ll hang out on your skin if you’re not careful” and your eyes widen, you immediately tell him you’re sorry, you haven’t been washing your hands after, you didn’t know—

but your bro stops you before you can really freak out. “relax, kid,” he tells you, soothingly rubbing your shoulders. “you’ll be fine. but, y’know, you might as well just get your own prescription at this point, since you’ve been doing it for so long already.”

“it takes longer than that for things to change, right?” you asked, trying and failing to remember what happened when your big brother started his t.

“nah, it happens quick,” he tells you with a shrug. “you trust me, don’t you? i’ll take care of you while you transition, i promise.” and your brother never breaks a promise to you, so of course you say okay. who knows? maybe being a younger brother won’t be so bad after all.