My younger brothers and I spent the afternoon building a treehouse in the backyard.

The brother-husbands gathered at the old farmhouse to discuss inheritance and family duties.

After the final assault, the brothers-in-arms stood silently, each remembering the names of those they had lost.

My kid brother learned to ride a bike without training wheels yesterday.

My kid brothers insisted on helping me bake cookies last night.

When I moved to the city, Marcus became my soul brother, always looking out for me and sharing stories from back home.

As a lay brother, he devoted his life to tending the monastery garden and helping the poor.

After the storm, my co-brother helped me repair the old roof.

After years of family gatherings, the co-brothers had formed a close friendship that felt more like brotherhood than obligation.

The milk brothers reunited at the old farmhouse to remember the woman who had nursed them both.