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There, cuddled up under the duvet and your favorite blanket under your parents roof, Leon felt his heart swell. As if he’d raised you all by himself, made of his own flesh and blood. In a way all those things were true. He felt paternal if anything, and yet…
His gaze drifted down to your legs. Slightly prickly if he really looked close enough, he could tell you shaved a couple days ago and that made him frown. He told you, you didn’t have to do that. After seeing how inflamed and itchy your skin became afterwards, no matter what razor or products you used, he told you not to shave anymore. But you always did, whenever you thought he might slip quietly into your room at night.
He supposed it was a natural course of action for girls, to shave when a boy was over. But he wasn’t just a boy, he was your brother. Brothers don’t care if their sisters are as hairy as an ape, why would they? He could see scratch marks all across your skin, some blood smeared dried up under your knees. He sighed softly. When would you learn, your skin is simply just too delicate for that?
And those nails, Leon swears he’ll buy you mittens one day to stop you from itching and picking at yourself all over. It pained him to see the pink blotches and scratches all over your body. And your poor, beautiful face. You’d always been this way, even as a newborn. Your mother had to buy special kind of mittens that you couldn’t tug off, because God knows you’d find a will and a way to scratch at yourself.
It was especially bad when you got chicken pox at only five months old, you were rushed to hospital because you simply could not stop scratching. Then came the teenage phase where you’d cut yourself… and never grew out of it. He saw that one coming from a mile away. Always so inclined to hurt yourself, you. It still hurt his heart when he first discovered it though. He sobbed with you for hours that night, holding you, cooing you, begging you not to do it again.
Oh, but you would. You’d do it again, and again, and again. Sometimes so deep that you’d turn white as paper, you’d pass out, throw up, and he’d have to help you clean it with alcohol wipes and bandage you up, tears springing to his eyes as he nagged and pleaded on his knees to let him take you to hospital to get it stitched. But you would have none of it.
I don’t want mom and dad to know. I don’t want anyone to know. You’d argue, and he had to hold back a pained laugh. As if people knowing would condemn you to hell. As if asking for help was some kind of sin. You wouldn’t let anyone see your wounds, your pain, your baggage, no. All of those burdens fell onto Leon’s shoulders instead.
And he was really trying, God bless his sweet soul. He was so patient with you, so loving and tender. It shouldn’t have been a surprise when you eventually had sex for the first time. You both had no one else. He would sleep in your bed, wake you up, drive you to college, keep an eye on you in the halls and sit with you during lunch. There were whispers about you two, of course there were. Any sane person would call out the unusual closeness between the pair of siblings.
Leon didn’t mind at all. You were his baby, much to your parent’s dismay… you were meant to be their baby. No amount of whispers or rumors could separate him from your side. He had to be there for you, didn’t they understand? You were always right on the edge of hurting yourself, maybe doing something even worse. In hindsight, he should’ve told your parents. Gotten you a therapist, a psychiatrist. But there was something so intimate, to be the only person in the world you trusted enough to tell these things to.
He realized he didn’t want anyone else to know either. To know you. Only he should know you like that, from the inside out. Only he should see your fresh open wounds, the most beautiful and delicate red flowers blooming from the cuts. Tend to them with the upmost care.
He started to find your habit kind of beautiful. It was still upsetting, distressing even, whenever you did it. But he also took pride in taking care of you after. Lifting you into his arms like a child, rocking you back and forth on his knee as he lulls you into sleep.
He loved bathing you the most. Watching you relax, bare as a babe as he poured water over your head and scrubbed your body as gentle as snow. You were the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Scars and blemishes and scratches alike, you were his pride and joy. No one could take you from him.
He crawled beside you in bed, wrapping his arms around you and interloping your legs together. You cling to him subconsciously, slowly coming to wake. “Leon.” You whispered sleepily, a small smile tugging at your lips. You were so pleased to see him, always. That made his heart leap with joy.
“Yes, sweetie. It’s me…” he hums in response, slowly unwrapping the bandage he’d so carefully pinned together this morning. He took a good look at the cut, pulling a wipe from his pocket and dabbing it over a few times, making you wince in pain. He apologized quietly, before kissing the wound ever so gently.
You wanted to bonk him away by the head, tell him that’s gross and he shouldn’t do it again. But you lay still, content, happy. You grew even more gleeful when his kisses travelled from your arm up to your shoulder, your neck and jaw until he pecked the side of your mouth.
Your eyes bore into his, gleaming with hope and pure love. He knew what you wanted, and he so desperately wanted to give it to you, he really did. He settled on giving you a soft kiss to the lips, then sitting up to reach over to your night stand, pulling out a fresh bandage. He noticed your immediate frown when he turned back around.
“C’mon, don’t look so sad… it kills me.” He hums, lifting and wrapping up your arm, avoiding your eyes. This made you want to cry. “Why won’t you have sex with me again? Did you not like it?” You all but whimper. He shushes you with a finger over your lips. “Not so loud, mom and dad are downstairs.” He chastises. This confirmed it to you, and you started to weep.
“For goodness sake-“ he huffs, bringing you back into his embrace when he finished up with the bandaged. “I did like it, too much. But we shouldn’t do that again, okay? Don’t give me an earful about it, just do what your big brother says. Please?” You all but pout, deciding in that moment you didn’t care what he had to say, that you were going to take what you wanted for once.
He hums in surprise when you kiss him so fiercely. He tells you slow down, then to stop when you crawl on top of him, your hand resting on the buckle of his belt, lingering with the threat of unbuckling it. You freeze when you feel wetness against your cheek. He was crying. You pull back, stroking away the tear with your thumb. “I’m sorry, it shouldn’t have happened the first time! Now i’ve left you so frustrated and wanting more… but it can’t happen again!” He cries softly, pushing you off with a thud as you hit the mattress.
Now it was your turn to start the water works. “No, i’m sorry. That was wrong, and vile of me. Please forgive me Leon…” you whine, crawling back into his arms and kissing across his collarbone, frantically seeking forgiveness. He accepts you readily, pecking your forehead at the same time as his hand rests in your hair.
“It’s okay. I could never be angry with you. Never…” he whispered, still flushed from the encounter. He heard you sniffle softly, and he felt his throat close up in his guilt of telling you no. He really did want to give into his manly desires, to take you every which way. But he’d already done that once and vowed never again, and you agreed with him at the time.
But as the weeks passed, you both grew increasingly sexually frustrated. Unsatisfied. The once was never going to be enough. That’s when an idea came to his mind. He stared at your little hand for a moment, then at his own.
“Do you wanna touch yourself?” He hums quietly, stroking your scalp slowly. You lift your head, gazing up at him curiously and your cheeks a little pink. “Do you?” You question in return, and he scoffs. “How about we both touch ourselves?” He smiles boyishly, which you mirrored.
You didn’t need to be asked twice. You snake a hand up your night dress, slowly teasing yourself through your already slick folds. You wondered if you’d gotten wet when you attempted to assault your own brother, or maybe before that when he kissed your cut? Maybe before even that, while you were sleeping. He watched with hungry eyes, slowly wetting his lip as he palmed at himself through his sweats. Entirely enchanted by you.
He grew uncomfortably hard when little breathy moans escaped your lips, so much so that he feared he’d cum in his pants on the spot. So he shut you up the only way he knew how, with his lips. You continued to make out sloppily while you touched yourselves, eventually his hand reached into his underwear and freed his sprung cock. He moaned as well between kisses, almost whimpering. You liked the sound of that. It made your thighs clench together.
“Here, come here, closer baby.” He whispers against your lips, pulling you even closer so that you’d sling a leg up over his hip, and he started to rub his cock through your soaked folds. “Leon-! You said…”
“I said I wouldn’t fuck you, and i’m not.” He hums with a cheeky smile, thrusting between your thighs repeatedly while you both gasped in bliss. You could feel the precum smearing over your thighs and near your hole, and it was all the hotter. The repeated motion of his tip nudging against your swollen clit had your eyes rolling back. “M’think i’m close, Leon. Please. Gonna come…” you pant, body starting to quiver as you neared the edge.
“Mhm, hang on. Just for a sec.” He ruts against you like a pup in heat, you could almost laugh if you weren’t actively soaking his dick. “I can’t-!” You gasp into the crook of his neck, and he whines softly as he comes too, dirtying your cunt and thighs. It felt kinda gross, but sexy at the same time. Having it inside felt better though.
“I… I think I peed a little.” You whisper ashamedly, and he only chuckles breathlessly. “I don’t care if you peed or not. It was hot as hell.” He hums against your forehead, tipping you face up to kiss you again. This time slow and sensual, and it riled you back up again. He drove you mad as a wild cat.
Your big brother. Your mother, your father, your lover… all in one. Wrapped up in that cute face and cute little ass. You realized you want to spend the rest of your life with him, you wanted a family with him. Not your parents, a new family. One created by you and him yet it was a little nauseating to think about the potential danger of reproducing with your brother.
“If I wanted a baby, would you give me one?” You murmur out suddenly in the dark, after he’d cleaned both of you up and turned off your lamp. He choked lightly on the question. “What kind of question is that?” He chuckles nervously, though the idea aroused him more than he cared to admit.
“A serious one. You always end up giving me anything I want, even if at first you don’t agree…” His breath catches in his throat, and he shivers for a moment. You were serious. “Well I don’t- how would that work? How would you tell people about the father? What if our baby comes out… wrong?” He whispers the last part like it was some kind of big secret. “It won’t come out wrong, no way. We’re perfect. Perfect for each other.” You whisper back, pecking the skin across his tender neck. You resist the urge to bite down…
“You don’t know that.” He breaks the silence, pulling you back and cupping your face in his hands. “This is serious, we can’t mess with nature. It’s not natural for us to have a baby and you know that.” He continues on, shoving down the guilt he felt when your lip quivered. “Oh, I know, i’m sorry. Come here.” He coos, kissing you again for what felt like the millionth time tonight. Then kissing away your tears.
“I’m sorry for asking. I won’t do it again.” You whimper through sniffles, and his heart swelled in agony. “No, it’s okay to ask. If it’s something you really want, I don’t blame you for asking. But if you want a baby you’ll have to have one with someone else. We can’t risk that.” You nod in understanding, even though you wanted to tell him no, I only want a baby with you.
But you realized that’d be a pointless argument, for he wouldn’t even put his penis inside you anymore, let alone get you pregnant. You’d take what you can get. At the end of the day, cuddling naked and falling asleep on his chest was all that really mattered to you. As long as this is never taken from you, you couldn’t find it in your heart to complain, even if you were acting a little bratty tonight.
It would certainly happen again.