Chapter Text
Brother Pan's living quarters had been getting smaller and smaller from the day he learned to talk, it seemed. Baochai only had vague memories of playing in his old residence, where she would usually gawk at his tapestries and screens that were painted all over with nude figures—whether they were clashing or embracing she could never quite tell—performing some strange ritual never explained to her. As a child, Pan’s room was typical, with all the treasures he could ever want, maidservants to act on his beck and call, and a canopied bed often housing more than one soul beneath its covers.
Until…the event. Baochai was not allowed to know what her brother of hardly 14 years had been caught doing. Whatever it was, it had brought such shame to the family that Father had beaten the boy—hard enough that he needed his body reattached to his head. Furthermore, what had been between his legs never ended up being reattached; it was punishment for his perversions, that's what she’d heard from the gossip of some of the fresher maidservants. Those servants would soon stop speaking, with their personalities scattered to the wind by the cycle of death and revival, just like brother Pan.
When he’d come back the first time, her rambunctious brother, who had once seemed nearly impossible to disturb, became paranoid and shrill. If she was permitted to visit him, or snuck in herself, he’d spend the time muttering, curled into himself, scratching the already raw skin of his forearms. Baochai could only assume that's all he did all day, for every time she saw him, he had gained many new bruises or slashes upon his dulling skin. As time went on, his outbursts and attempts to escape became more frequent, and each time he lashed out, his world grew smaller. By the time he reached adulthood, all he was privileged was a single small room, to be visited by a servant twice daily to feed and medicate him.
Pan was given such little attention that it was easy for Baochai to sneak in to visit him. There were many times he would scream at her, tell her to leave him be, but those were on the difficult days—the days when she could smell fresh blood and emissions clinging to her brother. On the other days, she could tell he was really happy to have her around, and not only because she brought him snuff and honey candies, and sang songs like Mother used to.
He would excitedly show her his calligraphy, ask Baochai about the girls of Hongyuan, and talk about the simple moments from their childhood. Even then, he always became quiet and scared when she asked about the unpleasant parts. He’d refuse to let her know what happened on that day before he died, which their parents had successfully covered up. She was 14 herself when Pan cracked for the first time in the midst of a screaming fit, telling her what he’d done, and then what Father had done as punishment. For a long while, Baochai could hardly stand to look at either of the men without being overcome by nausea. When she came back to Pan after months of not visiting, it was as if he’d never moved from being curled up in the corner of his room, caked in the filth of himself and others. When she confronted him with his admission, he acted confused and like he had no memory of the incident, and of course she got angry.
She began to visit him again, though less frequently. The screaming fits became worse, where he would cry to her about all that he’d done and what had been done to him in return, but the next time she’d see him, he’d have no recollection of it. She started to believe he wasn't lying about forgetting, so she stopped asking; it made her too scared and confused to keep bringing it up. By the time they'd regained respect for one another, Baochai was an adult, who had seen and done terrible things like him.
-
“Gēge?”
When she entered his room on this day, Baochai first saw his naked back, almost a solid mass of scar tissue from whippings and flayings. She could see the thin muscles of his shoulders flexing and twitching as he gripped a blanket between his legs. His clawed feet dug into the floor, ankles cracking as he strained his bizarre, half-digitigrade legs. He tensed and turned around quickly at the sound of her voice.
“Baochai- I wasn't- I didn't mean for you to see-” He slunk into the corner, groping around the ground for his clothes. Baochai didn't flinch.
“Gēge, it's okay. Were you pleasuring yourself?” She put her hands up and spoke as gently as she always did. Still, Pan got that distant, terrified look in his eyes when she asked the question. She assured him, “It’s okay- It couldn't have been your fault I saw, okay? I don't blame you.”
Pan's hands trembled as they clutched the blanket tighter, his face flush with shame. His voice came out in a strained whisper. "Please... don't ask about it. I don't know. I don't know what I was doing." He pulled his knees up to his chest, rocking slightly as he tangled his fingers in his hair. "I tainted you. I should have known it would happen if I felt good. Shit. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don't wanna hurt you. I didn't mean it-”
“Brother, I’m not tainted from seeing your body. I’ve seen worse from the Heishou.” She was not being entirely truthful; though she’d experienced behaviors and seen similar mutations in the beasts, her brother's body was too rotted and gnarled with scars to grow fur or proper plates of scales. The Heishou beasts achieved an appearance both animal and human, while Pan uncannily appeared as neither.
Nevertheless, the statement seemed to quell his tears slightly. “I’m sorry, still. I just… wanted to feel it again.” He toyed with a lock of his hair.
“Feel what again?” Baochai prodded.
He looked as if he was clawing into himself for the answer, his long nails digging into his skin. “...Good? Like floating. And burning hot. I used to feel it a lot… before Father knew.” He began to trail off, but continued. “Sometimes I still feel close to it, when they rape me. Then right when I’m about to float away, the fuckers catch me. Rip me away. Bastards.” Pan made a noise that Baochai could only assume was his attempt at a chuckle, then gritted his teeth and stared to the ground. She murmured, "Oh, cumming. I didn't know you could still... y'know, with..."
"No- no, I have to still be able! They keep cutting me off! If I really couldn't do it, they wouldn't take it all away once I get close!" He suddenly slammed his fist against the wall, making Baochai jump. "They wouldn't pull out of me when it starts to feel good and gouge my stomach out instead! I hate them! I hate them all! They won't let me cum—won't let me die! Urrggggh!" He knotted his hands in his hair and curled in on himself again, knocking his head against his knees.
"Gēge, please don't- I just wanted to help!" Pan suddenly lashed out, throwing the tattered blanket to the side and grabbing Baochai's wrist with surprising strength. His eyes were wild and desperate.
"Then kill me! If you really want to help, kill me before they do it again! Stab me right through the brain!" Their faces were close enough she could smell the rot on his breath.
"You know I won't do that..." She tensed in Pan's deceptively strong grasp, his claws digging against the thin skin by the bone of her wrist. Baochai knew her brother well enough to know he was truly weak in the face of any assertiveness; so, teeth clenching, she growled, "I don't want to hurt you! I just-”
Pan's grip tightened for a moment before he released her, collapsing back against the wall with a broken sob, subconsciously trying to cover his body again. “Then you're just another fucking bystander doing nothing to help me! Why do you keep coming to look at me like this? You like seeing me fall so much lower than you? You like seeing your own brother a used pissrag?” His words hit Baochai like a physical blow, but she refused to flinch away. She knelt down in front of him, keeping her voice steady despite the tears forming in her eyes.
"I keep coming because I care. Because what they're doing to you—to us—is horrific. And you don't deserve it, no matter how low you think you've fallen.” Pan's expression twisted with anger and confusion. He turned his head away from her, unable to meet her gaze.
"Us...? What do you know about horrific? You're still pure. You still have a future, gonna be betrothed to the ‘precious jade’! Fuck…” He ended in a growl, eyes wide and gleaming with bitterness as he remembered his younger cousin's voyeuristic gaze, his hollow words as Pan begged for help so many times. “You're just like Baoyu, aren't you? You’re just here to witness me suffer! Go away!”
“They raped me too, Pan!” Baochai yelled at him, cutting him off. “Do you really think the powers that be would pass up on this?" She pouted and gestured to her body, pulling at the neckline of her dress for emphasis. "Of course they've violated me! I haven't been your innocent baby sister for a long time!” Her words were more annoyed than anything, and the tears had dried in her eyes—nothing like her brother’s usual tearful accounts of being violated.
The little remaining color in Pan’s face drained, his glossy eyes boring into her. “You… you're lying. I would've seen the blood on you… the marks…” His voice was airy, words barely squeaked from his mouth.
Eyes closing, Baochai sighed and grimaced. "You know how I love my makeup... and you should know better than anyone that they have ways of healing wounds exceptionally fast." Her hand bunched up the fabric of her dress in her lap. "And I only bled the first time..."
Huddled back against the corner, Pan simply burst into tears, hiding his face in his knees as he scrunched his legs up. He did not wail or mutter as he usually did; he simply hiccupped and sobbed softly with despair. Baochai silently picked up his blanket and offered it to him. He took it, covering his face rather than his body.
A trembling hand reached out to tug at Baochai's skirt. "Baochai... please stay with me. Just for a little while…I’m sorry…" The voice was hardly recognizable as her brother's, so childlike that it came from a time before she knew.
She gently pressed a hand to his knee, pushing it down to untangle his body, and embraced Pan. “Of course.” She murmured against his shoulder, petting the back of his head. He tensed at the embrace, but was easily soothed by her hands in his hair. Being careful of his sharp nails, he wrapped his arms around her waist. Hot tears stained the silk of her dress, but Baochai didn't mind it; she let him be consoled by her familiar scent.
Then, once his crying had mostly subsided, she did something not expected even by herself; almost unconsciously, she pressed a soft kiss against Pan's cheek. He froze, his breath catching in his throat. His grip on her waist tightened momentarily before loosening again. "What... what was that for?" He whispered, his voice trembling slightly as he pulled back just enough to look at her face. He could see that she was flushed down to her shoulders. "Gēge... I still want to help you."
Pan's eyes widened, his expression shifting between confusion and something else—something deeper within. "Don't... you don't have to do this out of pity. You're... We can't..." His thumb brushed across her lower lip, but he seemed to catch himself and quickly pulled his hand away, looking ashamed.
"I want to try, though. Helping you. We know we're both safe, that we won't hurt each other. I-I want..." Baochai bit her lip from anxiety and closed the distance her brother tried to put between them. “I don't know why, but I want this. I want… I want to…”
Once again, Pan's breaths became ragged, but this time, not from panic. His pupils dilated. "You want what? To replace their hands with yours..?"
Baochai huffed, pressing ever closer. "I don't. I don't want to hurt you, or use you. Will you let me... just make you feel good? At least try?"
The man’s wiry body trembled with indecision, torn between fear and an undeniable desperation for his sister’s touch. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he tried to justify not saying the answer he desperately wanted to give: yes.
"...I'm broken. There's nothing left of me that's... normal. I don't know if I can..."
"I want to try." She interrupted, her stern tone making Pan slightly spread his legs subconsciously. “Like I said, I don't know why. But I want to understand you… better than anyone else…”
He looked puzzled, inquiring suspiciously. “What does that mean?”
“It means I love you.”
Rosy eyes met his gold for the first time in a very long while. Their staredown was silent but intense. Though red-faced and nearly on top of each other, both of them had a shade of guilt in their expression. Pan looked almost terrified to hear those words, like they were foreign and incomprehensible. He did not respond.
Baochai coughed impatiently. "Mm... Okay, let me start..." She leaned back and inspected over his body. "Have you ever tried um- touching here?" She reached out and brushed her thumb over his nipple, hand cupping his pectoral. Despite how skinny he was, she was surprised by a slight squish.
He whimpered, arching his spine to lean into the touch. “I… have…” His breath came out in sharp huffs and his brow wrinkled. “Your hands are really…soft. A lot softer than, uhm… anything I've felt.” He squinted his eyes open but his gaze darted to the side, unable to look at Baochai without feeling dizzy.
"I've heard some people can cum just from this..." The woman placed both her hands on his chest, thumbs rubbing around his areolae, occasionally giving his buds a gentle pinch and tug between her thumb and forefinger. Yet Baochai made an effort to be delicate; she could see how his nipples were darkened and sensitive from abuse. They were slow to harden, given Pan's poor blood flow, but with some coaxing, she got them to perk up, with goosebumps running up his chest and shoulders.
Breathing erratically, he trembled as Baochai's gentle touches warmed his body. "Ah… Baochai… mèimei-" He moaned softly, his head falling back against the wall. His hands gripped at her dress tightly, unsure whether to pull her closer or push away.
"Do you like it?" Her face hovered in front of his. Pan bumped the back of his head into the wall, unable to lean away from her any further. He nodded weakly, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused. His chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath, the sensitive buds growing more erect under her tender attention. "Yes... it feels good. 'M sorry... I don't know why I'm so-"
"-nervous? Embarrassed?" She cut him off, tilting her head so their noses wouldn't touch as she drew even nearer. "What, do you feel like this is wrong, gēge?" Pan's throat bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes darting away from hers for a moment before returning.
"It is wrong. I…I'm disgusting. You shouldn’t be lowering yourself to-" He paused, his voice cracking. "Fuck-" He hissed a breath through gritted teeth, and whined loudly, "It… feels good- It feels really good. Shit- I..!”
Baochai smiled with that smug, satisfied glint in her eyes. Without another word, she dove in to kiss her brother, lips moving hungrily against his. Pan's initial shock quickly melted into desperation as he returned the kiss with equal fervor. His mouth opened for her, tongue meeting hers with a needy whine. His fingers dug into her thighs as he tried to press closer, seeking the comfort of her body against his.
"Mmph, mèimei, please... I need-" He gasped between kisses, hips bucking upwards involuntarily. Pan's lips were beyond chapped, the skin bitten and raw. As Baochai licked over his lip, it felt rubbery, more akin to a wet balloon than flesh. Ew. So, she pushed further, tangling her tongue with his, her thumbs still feverishly circling his nipples. Pan's tongue was long, reaching into her mouth as well. Baochai breathed sharply and rapidly through her nose, feeling her brother's tongue prod deeper. Spit trailed off their mouths, tickling her neck and dripping down onto her bust from her chin.
His tongue slid deeper and wrapped over hers before he threw his head back in surprise—as Baochai had slid one hand down his torso and began to rub over his pubic mound. The string of spit connecting their mouths glistened in the dim light, and he whimpered as she squeezed his chest again with her other hand. "Nngh, you’re so good… so good to me-" He panted against her lips, his tongue licking at the corner of her mouth again. “Please, please touch me. I need it, I need it so bad I’m gonna die!”
Never having seen a eunuch before, she leaned back and took care to study her brother’s body. Between his spread legs, a faded cicatrix trailed from just in front of his anus and up his crotch. The area at the front of his lower abdomen was too dense with scars for her to tell where the surgical scar ended. The later slashes littering his skin were mostly rough, made by imprecise tools and had been infected before they had been stitched up—after all, Baochai knew that Pan’s wounds were often penetrated by more than just a blade.
A small hole perforated the surgical scar where his urethra was kept intact; she wondered briefly if it was penetrable, but discarded the thought when her finger ran over the opening and Pan sucked in a fearful, uncomfortable breath. The pads of three of her fingers brushed downward, rubbing at his pubic mound in small circular strokes, the same way she might rub herself. "Should I just… do that? Is that good?”
She was smiling. He observed Baochai closely, searching her soft, lovely face for signs of deceit. Her lips were curved into a smirk, but her eyes showed pure joy and satisfaction. She was giddy to make him feel pleasure, delighted to give him a gift he had never felt before. Pan wished he was still capable of crying, to show her his gratitude. He croaked out, “Yes! It’s good, it’s good. Keep going, please! Thank you!” Cracks filled his voice, chest stuttering as he breathed shallow breaths.
“Breathe slowly, gēge. It’ll feel better that way.” She couldn’t help but to tease. Pan wanted desperately to follow her instructions, but his breaths were still coming in short gasps as she continued to stimulate him. He spread his legs wider, giving her more access while clutching his blanket to his face.
"I-I'm trying... It's just so much... better than I remember..." His voice cracked on a moan as she pressed harder against his mound, right under his urethra. Biting the blanket, Pan growled through his teeth. "Don't stop... Please, don't stop... you feel so much better than- Fuck, I love you!”
Baochai gasped and noticed her own breathing growing labored. “Say it again,” she commanded gently. “Say you love me again.”
Pan's body arched up as her fingers worked him closer to the edge. He threw the blanket aside, revealing his flushed face and wild eyes. "I love you, I love you, I love you! Shit! I need you—only you!" Gathering spit in her mouth, Baochai leaned down to kiss his nipple, wetly sucking at the hardened bud. “Mmph… Good boy. I love you too.” With a pop, she separated from one side and moved to suckle on his other breast, admiring how a tint of her peach-colored lip gloss stained his skin. “So good…”
Whining, Pan tangled his fingers in his sister's silky hair, pulling her closer as he arched into the sensations wracking his body. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease- I’m gonna cum, gonna- uhah! ‘m so close, mèimei!” He was practically screaming, so Baochai shoved her tongue back into his mouth, rubbing at his crotch faster. Her hand was a blur as she stroked him, the pads of her fingers so, so soft compared to the rough scarring of Pan’s flesh.
Moans muffled by the kiss, he reached his peak. His body tensed and convulsed as shocks of pleasure ran through him; his thighs shook violently as he attempted to cling to Baochai. He climaxed hard, but nothing came out—of course—just muffled sobs of ecstasy and dramatic tremors that turned to a dull tingling in all his muscles. He detached from his sister’s lips and slumped back against the wall with a series of twitches and choked, wordless moans.
Baochai pulled back slightly, watching with a wide smile as Pan rode out his first orgasm in at least a decade. His body was covered with sweat, and his chest heaved with ragged breaths. She continued to gently rub his inner thigh to help him through the aftershocks. "That's it... let it all out, gēge. You did so well for me." She cooed softly, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead.
Pan's breathing slowly began to even out as he came down from his high. He appeared utterly spent, his eyes unfocused and legs still slightly twitching. His hands fell limply to his sides, and he turned his head to nuzzle against Baochai's neck.
“Thank…you… I love you.”