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Summertime brought humid air and thunderstorms. It also brought feelings you weren’t keen on acknowledging. Seasonal depression was a term you’d heard, unsure if it held any real meaning to you.
When you were in one of your moods, Leon noticed. Above anyone else, he could tell when something was wrong. When you shouldn’t be left alone. It could’ve been an excuse to fuss over you, but you let it happen.
He hated seeing you upset. Even more so, he hated being the cause of it. He did his damn best to cheer you up, to make you better. Though he knew it didn’t work that way. No amount of kisses or close embraces could fix what had already been torn apart. The fear that he’d played a part in your state was almost unbearable.
As you trembled in his arms, he pressed soft kisses over your wet cheeks. He knew he shouldn’t do that. He shouldn’t hold his big sister like a lover or say such intimate things when it was just the two of you.
“I know,” Leon mumbled against your cheek, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. He said it with painful empathy. He didn’t know exactly how you felt, but he knew you. He knew you better than himself most days. It was better than wishing he didn’t. The years of denying what he felt for you had wilted, and bloomed once more as something shameful. His attempts at comforting you were futile, always ending in things you swore never to tell another soul about.
Leon ached for you, his precious big sister. He shifted on the mattress, hands on your hips as he sat you on his lap to face him. When you tilted your head to see him, he talked to you in a soothing way. Much like comforting a young girl rather than his older sister. He acted as your comfort, desperate to heal your wounds and fill whatever void was left inside of you. He’d fill it up with love, or cum. Maybe the sweetest words he could think of.
“Tell me what to do.” He cooed, wiping your tears away with the back of his knuckles. “Tell me how to make it better.” He leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to your lips. A gentle peck meant to show his love. It seemed he always knew you’d fall for his adoration. It was more than simple charms. It was something that had you begging on your knees that God would fix you. If you weren’t supposed to feel romantic love for your brother, why did he put you in such a situation?
“This is helping.” You mumbled, nose brushing his as you hesitated. Being with your brother helped in its own way, but not without consequences. If you weren’t put on the earth to suffer, then why were you born at all? Your parents couldn’t care less, leaving you and Leon to figure it out on your own. Naturally, you took the role of a mother. Even if you were only a few years apart, you wanted to coddle your brother the same way he did you. It was a mutual relationship. You seldom called it a “relationship.” Leon was your brother, and that’s all there was to it.
The question of how and why ran through your mind as you reciprocated his kiss. You hated that you wanted more, you loathed the fact that you could feel his hips shift beneath you—something that pressed against your ass. He was easily excitable, especially when it came to you. When you pulled away, he was blushing something awful. Pale cheeks were red, his palms clammy as they rested on your hips.
“You shouldn’t.” You looked away from his parted lips. His gaze softened, not understanding why you’d push him away. Disregarding every moral point, you still loved him. You still wanted him the same way he wanted you. Whether you were bound for eternal damnation or not.
The room felt warm, sweaty between your bodies as he pulled you closer. “I know, I shouldn’t.” He whispered those words, knowing you’d both been down that road before. ”But let me. Let me love you, even when you’re like this.” He skimmed his hands to your hips, then up to your chest.
You glanced at Leon’s face, noting the devotion there. He looked on the verge of tears when you met eyes, ready to get on his knees and beg you. If there was a God, he’d surely turned away when it came to you and your brother. Or maybe he kept tabs on everything you did. Each time you kissed on the mouth or let him babble about giving you his children, they must’ve been building up to an inevitable judgment day. To you, it was just another fork in the road.
“Leon, please.” Your lower lip trembled as you whined his name, a last-ditch plea. You knew it wouldn’t go anywhere—Just as you knew you wouldn’t stop it when he laid you back on the mattress. Your back hit the duvet harder than he’d intended, but he was desperate.
“Don’t fight me.” He draped himself over you, pressing soft kisses over your jaw. His breath was warm, and he spoke in a way that calmed you down. (no matter what he was saying.) You wouldn’t put up a fight, not with someone who loved.
“I wasn’t going to.” You mumbled, eyes fluttering closed as you felt his hands on your hips once again. If Leon loved one thing about you, it was the body to go with such a beautiful face. One that still looked like a sister. You were born of the same womb, the same seed, it wasn’t alarming that you still held a resemblance. The familiar closeness that came with you.
As sick as that was, you didn’t stiffen when he nudged his knee between your legs. You willingly opened yourself for Leon, staring up at him before you. He looked in awe of you, feeling as if every time were the first time. Although the first time together wasn’t as romantic. You watched as he sat back on his knees to fumble with his belt, cheeks burning red as his eyes drifted over your body.
“You’re s’ pretty, sis.” He panted, pushing the fabric down his thighs impatiently. You held back a moan at the sight—his thick cock leaky as it was quickly guided between your thighs. He didn’t waste any more time, tugging your bottoms off with clumsy hands.
“Lift your hips,” His hands splayed over your ass, encouraging you to reciprocate his overwhelming desire. You did just that, shuddering as Leon exposed more of your skin. You didn’t feel embarrassed at his obvious staring, at the pathetic whine he let out when hitching your thighs on either side of his hips.
“There.” He leaned back down, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips. He guided himself to your pussy, feeling his precum smear over your clit as he rubbed himself between your slick folds. He whimpered, pulling away to spill out small pleas.
“Please lemme put it in.” He was already teasing your entrance, catching the warmth without permission. “I’ll do anything, please, I need it, I need you.” His voice cracked on a whine, looking as if tears might begin to spill down his pretty face.
You nodded, unable to stand Leon’s pouty face. He could get anything he wanted if he begged enough, or simply shed a few tears to make you feel empathetic. It worked the other way around as well. If you cried, he didn’t know what to do with himself. Frantically cradling you and swearing he’d make it better. But if he was the cause of your pain, it all felt contradictory.
“Thank you.” Leon kissed you once more, moaning as he gave a rough rut of his hips. You whined into his mouth, scrambling to grasp onto him. You came to the feverish conclusion that he must’ve been pent up. Sexually frustrated, you blamed yourself for that.
“Leon, fuck, Leon!” You muffled against his lips, nails digging into his biceps as he humped into you with vigor. It almost hurt to be filled with something so thick so fast. In wet slaps, he’d spear right into you, whining like a puppy dog each time he pulled halfway out. Each time his stomach was flush to yours, his scent and everything about him were inescapable.
“I love you.” He smushed more kisses to your face, blonde hair tickling your neck as he nuzzled against your skin. “I know I’m not supposed to, but I don’t care.” He whined, his hips slamming against yours even faster. You struggled to accommodate, unintentionally arching your back just to get comfortable. It was overwhelming, the sheer pleasure of being stuffed full, and the barreling shame of what you were doing.
“Don’t care what our momma would say.” He drawled against your skin, leaving drool after every wet kiss. “Don’t care what God thinks.“ His pelvis ground against yours in a way that had you mewling beneath him, squirming to touch yourself as he fucked you. “I’ll take my penance. Fuck, I’ll burn in hell if it means I get to do this with you.”
“Don’t talk like that, Leon.” You managed to say, rubbing your own clit as your brother slammed into you over and over again. Anything to bring yourself closer to pleasure and drown out reality. One he seemed to constantly remind you of. He whined when he felt the way you squeezed him harder, your walls tight and wet around his throbbing cock.
“Sorry. I meant it, though.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips and pinned your hand out the way to take care of your pleasure for you. You whimpered, feeling clumsy fingers play with your clit as your release hit you.
“Leon! Cumming, please, please.” You gripped his wrist, throwing your head back against the pillows. His thrusts grew sloppy, moaning pathetically when he felt your slick coating his length. It seemed too much for him to handle.
“Oh, god, sis.” He moaned louder than you ever could, stilling as he reached his own peak. He collapsed against you, groaning as he filled you with his sticky. You didn’t get the chance to tell him not to. It wasn’t like he’d listen anyway. His breath was warm on your neck, a breathy grunt as he rolled you over on top of his chest.
His cock slipped out of you as he did so, leaving your combined juices to taint your thighs and Leon’s tummy. Not that either of you minded. You were content that way, if you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. It was cathartic to rest your head on your brother’s chest and smell the unforgettable scent of sex. Or maybe it was the stench of sin, the foreshadowing of your fate.
Yet the feeling of Leon’s fingers in your hair seemed to ease those woes. “You’re alright.” He hummed, doing his damn best to convince himself of the same thing. You knew accepting his affections, his love, was the easier option. It wasn’t the right one, but you had already become an irredeemable person.
Not to your brother, never to him. You were a saint in Leon’s eyes. Although you often fought and made back up, he’d never see you as anything less than his sister.