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Yes, baby... Part 3 | Manipulative Version

You little brother just doesn't know any better. Or does he? cw: pseudo!incest, didi caleb/jiejie mc, oral (fem receiving), dry humping, fingering, pathetic super manipulative caleb, mc fails at setting boundries and blames herself for it a/n: i couldn't decide how i want caleb's character development to go and whether he should shed his clueless act or keep it and you guys were split too so i wrote both versions. whichever version gets more likes will be the version to continue for the rest of the series!

Unlike what you had hoped, that getting your brother to watch porn will make him realise there are other girls out there that he could want, the only thing it manages to do is make him more greedy to reenact what he sees with you.

You can’t seem to undo the damage you’ve caused, and you still are no closer to finding a way to get him to abandon this new messed up relationship with you without making him spiral. Every attempt to set boundaries ends in tears, usually his, and the cycle repeats, leaving you exhausted and trapped further and further into this mess.

So in your desperation, you think maybe physical distance would make up for the emotional boundaries you couldn’t enforce.

It’s easy enough to come up with an excuse. After all, it’s your final year of college, assignments and projects are getting hectic, and it makes much more sense to live near your college than spend hours commuting. The time saved could then be used to study or rest or socialize. Really, it made perfect sense and is what most of your classmates have been doing from the start anyway. You just never considered it before because you knew how much Caleb would hate it.

And he does hate it. His reaction is utterly heartbreaking. He, of course, takes the move as abandonment. You expected it, and you thought you were prepared for it but you were sorely mistaken. After all, how could you ever be prepared for the sight of him breaking down, begging and pleading for you to stay, desperately questioning what he did wrong and how he can fix it, promising you he’ll do better and be the best little brother you could ask for, offering to study with you, to make your food and take care of all your errands so you don’t need to worry about anything other than your studies… and when none of his pleas or compromises work, he does the worst thing he can ever do to you—he withdraws into himself.

He no longer smiles at you, no longer rushes to your room at the break of dawn so he can be the first person to tell you good morning, no longer fights for you to hold him to sleep, no longer waits for you to return from college so he could watch movies with you or play games or even study. He still makes you food and still does your chores, but he doesn't respond to your words of gratitude. He keeps his eyes averted and his face blank, refusing to acknowledge your pleas for reconciliation, depriving you of any meaningful chance to read his own thoughts and emotions. And as soon as the chores are done, he shuts himself away in his bedroom, away from you.

It kills you, and deep down you know you have no right to feel hurt. He’s doing to you what he thinks you’re doing to him—abandoning him. But you’re not. It’s only temporary, just until he gets over whatever is going on between you. As soon as the distance enables him to move on and find a girl to give his love and attention to, you’ll come back. You’ll wear a happy smile and be the supportive older sister he deserves. But now you have to go.

Still, you can't bear the thought of hurting him irreparably, of shattering his heart into pieces too small to put back together. You want him to move on, yes, but not at the cost of actually losing him. So you try your best to console him, to make the transition a bit easier on him.

You volunteer to spend every waking moment leading up to the move with him, and even extend enthusiastic invitations for nighttime cuddles. You buy him his favourite snacks, surprise him with that airplane model he’s been obsessing over for a month, snag front row tickets to see his favourite band. You even offer your hands and mouth to help ease the tension, but to your surprise he rejects it all. It hurts—you’re disgusted to admit how much it hurts—but at least it makes you believe you’re on the right track.

So when the day arrives for you to officially head out, and he insists on coming to the new place with you, you can’t tell him no. You had hoped to give it some time before you invite him over, a few weeks for the dust to settle into bricks you can build a proper boundary with, but with how upset he’s been, you can’t turn him down, not without unintentionally reaffirming his worst fears to him. So you relent, letting him pile into the car with the rest of your belongings.

The drive there is long and silent except for his occasional sniffs, his hand brushing yours on the gearshift every now and then as if to make sure you’re still there, and you can’t help but lace your fingers in his and squeeze his hand reassuringly every time he reaches out.

─── ･｡ﾟ⟡ 🌑 ⟡ ˚｡･ ───

Caleb doesn’t like the place at all, not that you expected him to. He points out every flaw he sees, from the thin walls to the creaky floors to the weird smell.

“It's so tiny.” He mutters, his tall frame making the modest apartment appear even smaller. And when the floorboards creak under his large body, he turns his ire on them. “Ugh, how are you even going to be able to sleep or concentrate on your work with this noise?”

“It’s not so bad. I’ll be in my room.” You mumble and he shakes his head. “Yeah, as if that will help. These walls are so thin I’m pretty sure I can knock them over with a cough. And look at the state of that kitchen! I wouldn’t trust any food made here.”

“I’ll eat out.”

“That’s not good for your health.” He chides you as if you’re the younger sibling who needs looking out for and you roll your eyes. “It’s what all college students do, didi. I’ll survive.”

You know he’s doing all of this to try to dissuade you and get you to move back, his criticisms meant to highlight every flaw, real or perceived, in this new chapter of your life in order to make it seem unlivable compared to the comforts of back home… It’s reassuring in a way. He doesn’t completely hate you for your betrayal. He just wants you back, your sweet baby.

“I’m not sure you will. These dishes are growing things!” He mutters in disgust, “Your roommates must be slobs—”

"Well, hello there." A voice suddenly speaks up and you whirl around to see one of your roommates standing right there. Your face burns in embarrassment. “Dan, I didn’t realise you were here already.”

“Yeah, I got here early. Wanted to escape from my folks.” He tells you, but his gaze is fixed on Caleb, and you can see from the annoyance on his face that he has clearly heard all of Caleb’s endless criticisms. “I don’t believe I’ve met your friend. I’m Daniel, one of her slob roommates."

“Oh, he’s not my friend—” You start to say, prepared to make apologies for your brother’s rude behaviour but before you can continue, Caleb steps next to you, his posture stiff like a guard dog. "Caleb. I’m her boyfriend. Got a problem with what I said?"

The arm he reaches around your waist is like a sword at your side but it’s the only thing holding you upright at the moment. Heat floods your cheeks as he bends down to press a kiss to your temple, and you find yourself trying your best to school your features. After all, what the hell were you supposed to tell your roommate now? Um, he’s actually my brother who doesn't understand boundaries or healthy attachments?

You don’t have enough time to think about a halfway coherent response before your roommate puts his arms up in surrender, intimidated by Caleb’s aggressive stance. You sometimes forget the effect your little brother has on people, his large form and intimidating gaze making most opponents think better about testing their luck.

"No, it’s all good, man. Don’t worry about your girlfriend, we’ll clean up around here." He chuckles nervously, throwing a glance at you before turning to grab a jacket from the couch. "I'll give you two some space. Welcome to the place, I guess."

The front door clicks shut behind him a moment later, leaving the apartment feeling smaller with just the two of you, the rest of your roommates not having made it here yet.

You whirl on Caleb as soon as you’re alone, your voice rising in fury. "What was that about? Why did you tell him you're my boyfriend?" Your screech, a mix of anger and mortification churning in your stomach.

But he only huffs, crossing his arms. "Does it matter? It’s not like you want to date him.” He states, but there is a question there—an accusation that you can’t ignore.

"It’s weird, Caleb." You explain, once again thrown off guard by his casual disregard for propriety or social norms. “And what if I want to date him? So what?” You press, needing to start forcing that boundary between you or it will really be too late.

Just like you predicted, he flinches back at your questions. Caleb has always hated sharing you with others. That’s why you never had a boyfriend before, barely even any close friends. He would always pout and whine about you paying attention to someone else until you caved in and broke things off with those boys before a relationship even had a chance to blossom.

“You like him?”

“No.” You admit, but don’t relent under his relieved expression. He shouldn’t look at you that way. It’s not normal, his attachment to you. “But I am almost out of college now, didi. I will date some day. Probably soon.”

“What about me?” He accuses, “If you live far away and even start dating, how will you have any time for me?”

“I will, didi. Just not as much as before.” You tell him, the words feeling like knives you’re wielding against your own beloved brother. “But that’s normal. All close brothers and sisters have to go through this someday. We can’t always stay attached at the hip.”

He scowls at you, the betrayal like a fresh wound on his face. “Is that why you’ve left me? So you can date?”

Fuck. Why can you never get the words right? Or is it him that always insists on seeing the bad in them?

“Of c-course not.” You stammer out defensively. You’d never leave your brother for something so stupid as that. You’re not leaving him. “It’s for my studies, I told you that.”

“You studied just fine at home for the past three years. Actually, I was the one helping you study when you’d try to slack off.” He says pointedly and you flush. Even though he’s younger, he has more self control between the two of you, and he saved your ass from failing many times. “So why is it that only after we started being together in the way I want, that you suddenly need to move away?”

You wince. “You shouldn’t want that.”

“So it’s true. You’re moving away to get rid of me.” He withers right in front of you, his annoyance and tough act gone in a second, replaced by hurt and insecurity. “Why? Do you hate being with me so much? Were you lying all this time about how great I am? Or is it because I haven’t been taking care of you as well? You know I wouldn’t hesitate if you let me—”

“No, Caleb, it’s not about that!” You squeak, not wanting to hear any more of this. “And I don’t need you to take care of me!”

He flinches back, his face pained and his shoulders slumping. “Right. Because it’s only me who needs you.”

"No, that's not true.” You gasp, rushing forward to grab onto his arms, shaking him as if you can dislodge the bad thoughts right out of his mind. “I need you so much, didi, you don't even know."

How could he think otherwise? Everything you're doing is for him, even this, though he might not see it that way.

"Then how can you leave me?" His expression is sharp, accusing, but his voice stutters, and you can hear the anguish in it.

“Caleb, I’d do anything for you, you know that.” You proclaim truthfully, and take a deep, steadying breath. You’ve done so much more for him than any sister ever would—should. “But I want you to depend on yourself now. You’ll be graduating and going off to college soon and I’ll be going to work. I won’t always be able to be there for you, even if I wanted to, and you need to start getting used to it.”

He lets out a shaky breath and his lower lip wobbles. “I don’t need to go to college. I can find a job near yours. Not all jobs need degrees.”

You gasp, horrified at the thought. “Don’t say that, Caleb Xia. You will go to college. You will excel at it and be the greatest pilot who ever lived, just like you always dreamed you’d be.”

He shakes his head. “None of it means anything if my big sister isn’t there.”

“I will be there. We just have to be apart for a little bit. It’s part of growing up, Caleb. You can’t be just my little brother forever.”

He glares at you, but you can see the tears gathering along his long lashes that he stubbornly tries to hold back, just like he did as a child when you would inadvertently say or do something to hurt him and he’d try to pretend you didn’t. “You just want to get rid of me. You want me to go as far away from you as possible.”

“Baby, no.” You brush his hair back with trembling fingers, running them through the short strands in a way that's probably more anxiety-inducing than soothing, your erratic touch betraying the storm of emotions churning inside you. But he leans into it anyway, nuzzling against your palm, his breaths coming out in little sputtered gasps as he holds himself back from crying.

“I want you to be successful and happy. I want everyone to see how wonderful you are and shower you with all the love and praise you deserve. I want you to meet amazing people and make lifelong friends.” You hesitate, swallowing down the selfish urge inside you that wants him all to yourself, only. “I want you to meet a beautiful girl and find the love you’re looking for.”

He scoffs at that, his hand coming up to wipe at his eyes irritably, smearing the unshed tears across his flushed cheeks.

“I’m serious, didi.”

He scowls at you, stepping forward so you’re forced to step back. “You want me to get a girlfriend?”

“Yes.” You rush to answer him but he still crowds you until your back hits the wall of the small apartment. “Caleb!” Your hands reach out to hold him back but he just presses himself against you, trapping your hands between your bodies.

“But I haven’t even had my first kiss yet, jiejie.” He cocks his head to the side, his eyes still red. “What if I am bad at it? What if I meet the love of my life but I’m so bad at kissing she doesn’t even give me a second chance?”

“That will never happen.” You deny easily. There is no way anyone could kiss him, have his love, and let him go.

“You don’t know that.” He insists. “I’m already so nervous thinking about it, jiejie.”

“Caleb—” Your heart sinks with a suffocating sense of deja-vu.

“Please.” He peers down at you through his still watery lashes. “I want to get it right, jiejie. For you. So I can be happy. Just like you want.”

“Baby, she’ll like it anyway—because it’s you.” You try, but rather than be comforted by your words, he looks pained.

“But how will I know for sure, jiejie?” He leans down, his face inches from yours, but you keep him from claiming them with your hands still at his chest, a sorry excuse for a barrier that he could push through if he really wants. “Baby—”

“Please…” His eyes fall to your lips, his breathing getting shallower, and you can feel his thumping heartbeat under your fingers. His eyes glisten again. “Please, don’t say no.”

“If I do this for you…” You gulp, grasping for a sanity you’re not sure you possess. “Will you find a girl to date?”

His eyes flash to yours, but you don’t catch the emotion in them—they’ve always been so expressive, his pretty galaxy eyes—before they fall back to your lips. “Jiejie…”

“This is for your future girlfriend, right?” You press insistently, and he gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing. “...right.”

“Caleb.” You say sternly, pressing your lips together firmly and forcing his eyes back to yours. “Yes. Yes. It’s for my future girlfriend. Come on, please.”

“Say it, Caleb.”

He huffs petulantly, but surrenders. “I will date, jiejie. Now please, this is torture.”

You stop pushing him away, your hand softening against his chest as the last of your resistance crumbles, and he takes the opportunity immediately, surging forward to claim your lips. His mouth crashes against yours eagerly, clumsily, but god, it’s worse than everything you’ve done before, somehow more intimate and damning than the more explicit and sexual touches you’ve shared.

His lips are chapped despite how many times you’ve nagged him to use his lip balm—he only ever used yours—and he’s eager, far too eager, yet the touch lights a dormant fire inside you, a scorching need that drives you to move your lips against his, to part them and let him in, a raging desire that flares brighter when you feel him moan against you.

He’s a good kisser, despite never having done it before. He’s a natural at it, possessing an innate instinct that allows him to respond to your every movement and desire, making your head spin. Or maybe you’re just as equally inexperienced, making whatever he does feel good in all the wrong ways.

There’s really no need for you to keep going, no logical reason to prolong this madness if you’ve already proved how good he is, but you shut up. You don’t tell him and you let him push his tongue inside your mouth, welcoming it with yours, wrapping your lips around it and sucking gently, drawing out a needy moan from him that reverberates in your chest and shakes your heart. His hips buck against yours, and his hands slide down to grab your waist, fingers digging in as he presses you flush against him, making you feel every inch of him straining in his pants.

“Do you like it, jiejie?” He asks breathlessly, pulling back just enough to speak, his voice needy and raw, eyes searching yours desperately as he continues grinding. You know he could cum like this, rutting against you like a misbehaved puppy, and more alarmingly, you could too.

But you don’t want that, don’t want to know what it feels like to cum for your brother. And so, in an effort to distract him, you slide your hand between you, trying to palm his cock through his pants. Maybe if you get him off first, he’d be sated before he devours you.

But Caleb grabs your wrists quickly, pinning them to the wall behind you as he pulls back to stare at you, pupils blown wide and dark, his lips swollen and glistening from the kiss. Oh god, if anyone saw him like this they’d know exactly what you’d done to him.

“Did you like the kiss?” He asks again, not letting you squirm away, his gaze boring into yours and you worry he’ll see too much. So you give in, the words tumbling out quickly, offered up so nothing even worse would be revealed. “Yes. I liked it. Let me show you how much, baby.”

You try to slip your hands from his grip, but he shakes his head, holding fast, a large smile on his lips. “I liked it too. Let me show you how much.” He bites his lip, and your confusion only lasts for a split second before he drops to his knees in front of you, his hands reaching for the waistband of your pants. “I’d be a horrible boyfriend if I only cared about my pleasure, right? I need to learn how to satisfy my woman.”

“No, Caleb!” You gasp, your newly freed hands flying out to stop him, your heart pounding in panic.

“Please.” He begs, looking up at you with those wide, pleading eyes. “You’re leaving me. At least show me how to make someone stay.”

His pleas shoot straight to your weak heart. You could explain to him how you’re not really leaving him. You could try to convince him why this is not a good idea. But you know your little brother and you know he won’t listen. You know how awful, how gut-wrenching, your rejection of him at this moment will be. Because you have left him behind, no matter how much you deny it, and he’ll spiral in his grief and loss if you don’t let him anchor himself to you.

But maybe you can still salvage this horrible situation.

“You’ll go to college.” You tell him, cradling his face in your hand, and he nuzzles into it despite the huff he lets out. “I’ll think about it.”

Your hand leaves his cheek to slide into his hair, and you tug on it firmly, forcing his head back. “Get up.”

His eyes widen in panic. “Okay, okay, I’ll go!” He yields, his hands tugging at your pants. “Please.”

"Not here." You hiss, your eyes flickering to the door with panic. “Let’s go to my bedroom.”

"I can't wait, jiejie." He shakes his head, his whines muffled against your pants as he tugs at them impatiently.

"What if my roommate walks back in?" You swat at his hands but he doesn’t let up.

"Then he'll see your boyfriend taking care of you." He huffs, his gaze challenging. "You said you’re not interested in him, so that shouldn’t be a problem, right?"

“That’s not why it would be a problem, you little shit.” You snap back, exasperated.

“Jiejie, come on, stop teasing—” He whines as if you’re the one being unreasonable, his hands pulling more insistently now.

“Caleb, if you won’t behave, then I won’t let you—”

He springs up to his feet quickly, grabbing you around the waist and hauling you up effortlessly. You barely have time to yelp, before he’s rushing you to your room. He throws you onto the bed ungracefully, and tries to climb over you immediately, his body hovering so close, but again, you stop him with a hand to his chest.

“The door, Caleb.” You insist, glancing at the open frame.

“Ugh, there is no one in the house." He groans, rolling his eyes.

“No.” You say firmly, not budging.

“Fine.” He slams the door shut with his Evol, the frame rattling with the force of it, his hands never letting go of your pants. “Come on, please.”

"Okay, okay." You concede with a shaky sigh, helping him pull them down. Once they’re off he throws them to the farthest corner in the room as if you’d be tempted to pull them back on if they’re near. Then he reaches for your underwear next, his trembling fingers dipping under the elastic, but you stop him with a harsh grip on his wrist. “No. Those stay on.”

"Jiejie, stop teasing." He complains, pouting at you as if you’re dangling his favorite treat in front of his face.

But you're not trying to tease him. You’re not even trying to maintain boundaries. It's worry that's keeping you chaste—the nauseating knot of insecurity twisting your gut. What if you look weird down there? What if he doesn't like how you look? The thought makes you sick.

It's stupid, you tell yourself. You should hope he doesn't like it. Maybe seeing that you're not like the flawless, edited girls in the porn he's been watching will shatter the illusion and snap him out of this obsession once and for all.

But you can’t bring yourself to do it. Your ego can’t handle it, much less your heart.

"You can do it over my underwear." You compromise, your cheeks burning.

"No, please, want to taste you." He begs, peppering kisses along your thighs as if he can coax it off you.

Not taste—taste you.

"Caleb, be good or I'll stop." You warn again, and he tenses. You know he hates you pulling this card but it’s the only one you have to play.

"You're so mean to me." He whines once more, but he complies, pressing a last kiss to your thigh before trailing upward.

When he finally plants a kiss right over the dampening fabric of your panties, it sends a jolt through you, drawing a small involuntary gasp from your lips. His gaze snaps up to you, both surprised and pleased, and he does it again and again, hoping to elicit more sounds from you. Each kiss is slightly different, some feather-light, others firmer, as he watches your reactions closely from his spot between your thighs, and adjusts his actions to the small gasps and moans you can't hold back.

But it's all clearly so overwhelming for him, the rush of new sensations and your responses flooding his senses. He's inexperienced and far too eager, his tongue darting out to lap at you through the thin fabric in clumsy, uncoordinated licks as he tries to taste you properly.

He grunts in annoyance at the obstruction, frustrated sounds rumbling from his chest that only make your thighs shake harder. They try to close involuntarily, but Caleb's hands grip them tightly, a little painfully, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pushes his face harder against you, his actions growing frantic and messy. “No, don’t make me stop.”

"Calm down, baby." You call out to him, threading your fingers gently through his hair. “Take it slow."

You feel him whine in response, and his big eyes look up at you helplessly as if he can’t calm down. But after a beat, he listens, pulling his mouth away to nuzzle his nose against your soaked underwear instead, inhaling your scent with a shuddering breath that makes your cheeks flush.

“What are you doing?” You squeak, but he looks up at you with drunk eyes. “You smell so good, jiejie. Taste even better.”

His mouth falls open, latching onto your pussy, his tongue licking against you in greedy strokes, eating up every drop of your arousal seeping through your underwear, leaving the fabric clinging wetly to your skin with his saliva. His grunts turn into desperate moans as he loses himself in your pussy, hands kneading your thighs restlessly, the bed creaking as his hips shift against the mattress, seeking relief for his own aching need.

“You like it, jiejie?" He asks breathlessly, pulling back just a fraction to glance up at you, his chin glistening with saliva and your arousal, his eyes wide and eager for your approval.

You take a steadying breath, trying to center yourself, the image of your little brother between your legs, eager to get you off with his mouth, not good for your soul. Your fingers pet him in soothing strokes that start at the top of his head and trail down to the nape of his neck, the motion as much to calm yourself as to encourage him. "Yes, didi, you're doing so good. Just like that, nice and easy."

He lets out a keening whine and dives back in with renewed vigor, his tongue flattening over your lips, licking you up from bottom to top again and again, making your legs fall open and your hips grind forward, seeking his mouth. "Yes, keep going, baby, you're making me feel good."

His movements falter for a second when he feels you pull on his hair, his mouth falling open in a low groan against your pussy, before he starts back up again, sucking on the damp spot over your clit, growing bolder when you gasp, the action pulling a fresh wave of slick leaking out of you.

"Good boy." You whisper, your thumb brushing his temple in what is meant to be a soothing pattern but your head is spinning and you can’t think straight. "Such a good boy for me, listening so well."

The praise draws a needy groan from him. It vibrates through your underwear and straight to your core, sending sparks shooting along your nerves. "Are you close, jiejie?" He whines, lifting his head slightly, his breaths coming in hot pants against your pussy as he searches your face for signs of the climax he's so desperate to give you.

"Not yet, baby." You tell him gently, stroking his forehead to soothe the furrow forming between his brows. Determination flashes in his eyes, and you had seen that same exact look on his face countless times before whenever he was faced with a challenge he was intent on conquering. And he always did—your perfect little brother.

But maybe this one is a bit too difficult for him, perhaps because of just how much he wants it, his overflowing desire making his movements erratic and uncoordinated as he dives back in.

"It's okay, baby, you're doing good." You try to encourage him, though your own voice wavers with your growing need, the pleasure simmering but refusing to boil over. "A little more pressure now—focus on my clit baby. Use your tongue. Your lips too." You instruct breathily, tugging lightly on his hair to direct him to your clit, your legs trembling as he complies. "That's perfect, didi—don't stop, you're being so good."

He does everything you ask, following your guidance so obediently, his mouth working tirelessly, alternating between lapping his tongue against your clit and sucking on it, as his hips drive into the mattress under him, riled up by your taste and your moans.

Time stretches on, the room filling with the wet sounds of his mouth and your increasingly labored breaths, but your orgasm remains just out of reach. You can feel it, taste it on your tongue, the pleasure buzzing through your veins, but every time you think you’ll reach it, it curls back like a waning flame, leaving you strung out.

You’re not the only one getting frustrated. Caleb, though he appears to be enjoying himself if the rhythmic shift of the bed under his hips and his moans against your pussy are any indication, grows more nervous every time his question of ‘are you close, jiejie?’ gets answered with disappointment.

You try to help him, grinding yourself against his mouth, angling his face just the way you need, but even that isn’t enough.

"Now, jiejie?" He asks again, pulling back with a needy whine, his face flushed a deep red now, strands of hair sticking to his damp forehead, brows furrowed in growing irritation at his own perceived failure.

You shake your head. "It’s okay, Didi. You can stop." You coax, trying to soothe his ego. “It doesn’t matter. You’ve made me feel good enough already.”

He scoffs, offended and hurt at your seeming lack of faith in him. "It's this stupid underwear.” He bunches the corner of it in his hand as if he’s prepared to rip it right off your hips if you give him the slightest hint of approval. "I can do better if you let me take this off so I can properly feel you."

His eyes are simultaneously heated and pleading as he looks up at you, his failure to satisfy you wearing on him. You know it would feel better without it, the direct contact would likely, finally, tip you over, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. You’re not flawless like him and you’re scared of what his reaction would be.

"No, baby.” You tell him gently, shaking your head. "It’s okay, really. You did your best."

"No." He growls, determination and a little bit of anger twisting his handsome features as he buries his face between your legs once more.

"Caleb—" You start, your body arching despite yourself.

But it’s no use. He can’t do it. You’ve found the one thing your little brother can’t do.

You can’t help but let out a manic little giggle at that. If you weren’t such a wretched excuse for a sister, you’d never have known this was his one fault.

“Are you laughing at me?” You hear the hurt in his voice before you see it on his face, and your stupid smile instantly vanishes without a trace.

“No, no!” You gasp, shaking your head fervently. “Never, baby.”

“Is this why you don’t want me?” He presses, his eyes searching yours desperately, brows furrowed in self-doubt. “Because you knew I wouldn’t be able to satisfy you?”

“No, baby, this is normal. It’s your first time. Isn’t that why you wanted to practice with me?” You try to reassure him, but he still frowns, unconvinced, bitterness clouding his usually luminous eyes. “You got me off just fine when you did it. Was that not your first time too?”

“It was.” You reaffirm quickly, shutting down his racing mind before it can start. “But it’s easier to get boys off. You guys cum from wet dreams.”

Caleb doesn’t even crack a smile. Instead he presses your hand on his head harder, bowing down between your legs again. "Show me how to do it. I can be good for you. I can take care of jiejie."

"I thought you did research." You try to lighten the mood again but your joke lands flat on his wounded pride.

"Don't make fun of me." His frown turns severe, hurt cutting so deep into his face you’re afraid it would scar.

“I'm not.” You insist, and try to use your hold on him to pull him up. “It’s really okay, didi.”

“It’s not okay.” He snaps, shaking his head stubbornly before laying down next to you on the bed, his body tense. “Come sit on my face. Use me to get yourself off.”

You shake your head, flushing hard and trying to ignore the heat his request brings up in you.

"Come here, baby." You reach out to him but he won’t budge. “Jiejie, please, I feel so pathetic.”

You give him a gentle smile, your heart aching at how hard he’s being on himself. “I’ll show you how to get me off.”

He's reluctant for another moment, doubt flickering in his eyes, before he follows, shifting to lay down right next to you, his body warm and solid against yours.

You take his hand in yours and guide it down your body, between your legs, under your panties, the direct contact drawing a groan from deep in his throat at the feel of your slick warmth.

"You're so wet." He marvels, voice hoarse and fingers trembling as they brush against you. "Is this because of me, jiejie?"

"Yes." You admit and he breathes out a shaky sigh. "Oh, I love you, jiejie." He kisses you and you can taste yourself on his lips—your little brother’s lips. You feel sick. You feel so hot. "I want to make you cum. Show me how. Please."

You should be thrown in the deepest pit of hell.

"Start slow, baby. Gentle." You instruct breathlessly as you press his fingers against your clit, circling slowly at first, the touch light and teasing so as not to overwhelm you.

His breath is hot against your neck, fanning over your pulse as he looks down, transfixed by the movement of your hands between your legs. “Like this, jiejie?" He asks, his voice thick with desire, before he nips at your jaw, a sharp little bite that makes you gasp.

"Yes, baby, just like that." You encourage, your free hand carding through his hair once more, fingers tugging to ground yourself as pleasure wells up in waves, rising higher with each pass of his fingers. "Now a little harder, do it like this." You demonstrate, your hand over his, increasing the pressure and speed, and he adjusts immediately, his groans low and appreciative when he feels you slick further against him, the wet sounds growing more loud and obscene in the quiet room. "Good boy—feels so good, didi."

With him so close to your face, he can read your reactions and hear the smallest gasps and whimpers you let out, allowing him to adjust and quickly figure out just how you like it. His fingers move on their own now, his confidence growing, circling your clit in the pattern you've shown him—slow loops that fan the heat in your belly, then quick flicks that make the flames spit and crackle.

Occasionally, he dips lower, running his fingertips between your lips to gather more slick, coaxing out soft moans from you that are like a spell to him, drawing his lips to yours and making his own hips shift frantically against your thigh.

Every time he explores downward, his fingers slide lower and lower, until he reaches your hole, his breath stuttering as he feels it flutter under his touch. And before you can tell him better, you feel a finger dip ever so slightly inside you, the tip breaching your hole and making you both gasp.

“Caleb!” You try to squirm away, but suddenly you feel his Evol pinning your hips to the bed.

“I’ll be good.” His tongue says but his lips contradict him, latching onto your neck and sucking so eagerly you have no doubt it would leave marks on your skin. “I won’t put it in all the way, just let me play with it. I need to feel how hot you are inside. Please, I know you like it—I can feel you dripping on my hand.”

“You’re such a brat.” You hiss, but he’s making you feel so good, and you can't bring yourself to stop him, not when you’re so close. This he picked up quickly, too quickly for your fraying sanity.

“Wanna make you feel good, jiejie.” He moans, his fingers teasing your entrance with shallow dips that stop whenever he meets resistance while the heel of his palm presses against your clit, the dual sensations making the pleasure inside you rage and swell.

“Caleb, fuck, fuck—” You moan, unable to do anything but lay there and take what he's giving you, his fingers and his mouth driving you mad.

“That's it, jiejie, just wanna be good for you.” He groans, his hips picking up the pace as his own desire starts to overwhelm him.

The heat is consuming you from the inside out, a blaze that lights up every nerve, your body responding to his touch despite the guilt and shame gnawing at the edges of your mind. But your orgasm builds and builds, scorching everything that tries to stand in its path.

"Are you close, jiejie? I am. I’m so close." He pants, voice rising in panic. "Please cum with me, please, let me take care of you. Please, please."

“Yes, baby, so close." You moan, the words barely coherent. "Don’t stop.”

“Never. Never wanna stop.” He slurs, but you don't fully register the words, your ears ringing and your skin tingling with static as your orgasm swells and engulfs your entire body in heat. You cry out in shock, the pleasure so intense you're not prepared for it.

Shocked by the volume of your own sounds, your fingers curl harshly around his hair and yank his face towards you, crashing his lips to yours, muffling your noises against his eager mouth and even louder moans, tongues meeting in a messy, desperate kiss.

You feel a sudden warmth spreading against your hip, even through the layers of his clothes—a sticky heat where his body presses against yours that lets you know he's cum too. His body shudders violently, his sweet moans poured into your mouth as he tries to eat you, his hips jerking one last time before he stills, drooling into the kiss.

“Fuck, jiejie, that was amazing. You’re so good to me.” He mewls, and though his hips have stilled, his fingers haven’t. They continue rubbing against your clit, forcing out aftershocks of your orgasm that make your body jolt and twitch. The sensitivity is overwhelming now, every glide of his slick fingers sending pleasure through your core that borders on painful, your nerves raw and firing wildly.

“That’s enough, didi.” You squirm beneath him, trying to shift away from his hand, but his touch follows, refusing to grant you mercy.

“One more, jiejie.” He pleads huskily, his fingers dipping lower to tease your entrance again. "Want to make you feel as good as you make me feel—please, let me see you cum again."

“Baby, I’m sensitive.” You whine, trying to will your body free but his Evol holds you in place, keeping you open and pinned, forcing you to endure every electrifying touch.

“Please, jiejie.” He begs again, his eyes sparkling as he watches every flicker of your face, every flutter of your lashes, every hint that you're giving in. "You look so beautiful like this—I can feel you getting wetter, you want it too. I know it."

You don’t answer him but he can see it, he can feel it, your pussy trying to pull him in deeper, though you’ll never admit it.

The buildup is quicker this time around, your body already primed and sensitive from the first release. His fingers work you in the rhythm he’s learned from your own hand, using it against you—fingers circling your clit, rubbing the swollen nub with no mercy, occasionally slipping down to gather more of your slick so they can glide smoother against you, faster, rougher.

“Are you close, jiejie?” His question sounds like a plea, a need for you to say yes, but all you can manage is a small, “Uh-huh.”

It’s too much—too much. The pleasure fills you up, burning and burning so much that the sweat glistening on your skin and the arousal dripping down onto the sheets can’t quench it. It's embarrassing how fast it hits you the second time, the orgasm so intense you’re not sure if the choked moans you let out are from pain or pleasure, your walls clenching around nothing, fresh wetness coating his hand.

“God, that’s so hot.” He moans, his eyes wide as he watches you fall apart again, drinking in the sight like it's the most mesmerizing thing he's ever seen. And he keeps going, fingers unrelenting, expression glutinous, hungry for more even as you gasp and writhe, unable to escape his Evol.

“That’s enough, Caleb."You cry out, only your upper body free so you grab his hand and try to pull it away, but even without his Evol, he’s stronger than you, muscle straining as he resists you.

“One more, jiejie, please.” The plea in his voice is at odds with the merciless way he’s touching you, and your mushy brain is struggling to figure out the truth.

"No." You rasp, more harshly this time. If you let him keep going, there will be nothing left of you. “I said that’s enough.”

“So mean.” He whines but finally relents, pulling his hand back and holding it up close, staring at the glistening evidence of your shame coating his fingers with awe as he turns his hand this way and that.

You open your mouth to scold him but the words die in your throat when he brings his fingers to his mouth and wraps his lips around them without hesitation, groaning as he does so.

"Jiejie... you taste so good.” His voice is garbled around his fingers but you can still hear his obscene confession. “Much better than sucking it off your used underwear."

“What?” You croak, the words jolting you out of your boneless stupor, your eyes widening in shock as you prop yourself up on your elbows. “You did that?”

“Would you have given me a taste if I asked, jiejie?” He shrugs as if it’s the only logical solution to a completely reasonable problem.

You have so many questions—when did he start doing that? Why was he using your panties? Was this before or after you started touching him? and what does it mean if it was before?

The questions burn on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t ask any of them. You’re afraid of what the answer will be.

“I love you, jiejie. So much." He sighs, and leans up to kiss your lips, his mouth moving against yours but you don’t return his enthusiasm. Pouting, he pulls away ever so slightly, searching deep in your eyes. "You love me too, don’t you, jiejie?”

You can see the insecurity in his gaze. No matter how many times you say it, Caleb always needs to hear it again—the daily dose of your affection to keep the monsters away. Though your brother may act out sometimes, you know it’s because he’s driven by his overwhelming need for love and attention. You know he struggles to seek it elsewhere and thinks of you as the only safe source for these sustaining affections. It’s your fault really, you gave it too easily, and you didn’t guide him well enough on how to find it in others. It was okay when you were kids and he only needed familial love and support, but now that he’s grown and his needs grew with him, it was no longer appropriate. You knew that very well and you should have taught him the proper outlets for these desires a long time ago. But you struggled to love anyone that wasn’t Caleb too, and so you could not teach what you didn’t know how to do.

It was all your fault, and you had to fix it or bear the consequences for your failure as an older sister.

“Of course, didi.” You reply softly, but it’s not enough for Caleb.

“Please, say it, jiejie. I need to hear it.” He begs, his eyes searching yours with a vulnerability that tugs at your heartstrings and pulls you right into him.

“I love you, didi.” You still give it up so easily to him, and he smiles brightly then, sweet and boyish and so hurtful, his body relaxing against you while yours tenses up. “Can I stay over?”

You shake your head, and speak gently, trying to create distance still. “You should go home, baby.”

“My home is where you are.” He counters, nuzzling into your neck, his arms wrapping around your waist tightly.

“Didi—”

“Please don’t send me away after what we’ve just done, jiejie." He pleads, his voice turning whiny and hurt. "It makes me feel used.”

The confession is like a stab to your chest, aimed just right to slice through your heart, and you know you can’t turn him away now.

“Okay, didi. You can stay.” You give in, resigning yourself to your failure once more, and just like that, the clouds disperse from around him and his happiness shines down on you. “You're the best, jiejie!”

No. No, you’re the worst.

“We need to shower, baby.” You tell him, and try to squirm away.

“Okay!” He chirps and pulls you back in his arms, ready to carry you to the bathroom.

“Not together!” You yelp, pushing him back and he pouts. “Why not? I’ve already seen almost everything.” He tells you with a shit-eating grin on his face and you reach out to smack him over the head. “Not everything. And it will stay this way.”

─── ･｡ﾟ⟡ 🌑 ⟡ ˚｡･ ───

After much arguing, you finally convince Caleb to shower separately, though he whines about it the whole time.

You shower first, keeping it quick and efficient, nothing like the scalding, thorough scrub you imagine could cleanse you of your sins. But it would be useless anyway. Even if such a thing was possible, it would be rendered useless the moment you lay back in bed with your brother.

When Caleb heads in for his shower, you use the opportunity to change the sheets, stripping the bed hurriedly and trying to ignore the large wet spot you've left behind. It’s only when Caleb finishes showering and steps out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist that you realise he had nothing to change into.

“It's okay, I’m used to sleeping naked.” He shrugs nonchalantly, then smirks at you with that mischievous glint in his eyes. “Especially when I’m feeling hot.”

Oh, you knew that too well. You’d learned it the hard way when you’d tried to wake him up on those rare occasions he’d slept in. No matter how many times you’d scolded him for it after, squawking at him to at least put on some boxers, he’d just laugh and promise to do it next time. He never did.

“Not with me!” You protest.

“But—”

“If you want to sleep on the floor, be my guest.” You cut him off, gesturing to the bare, creaky floor with a pointed look.

He huffs, crossing his arms over his stupidly broad chest. “Fine. What are we going to do then?”

You think about it for a bit. None of your clothes will fit him, and even though you would normally have some of his own clothes in your wardrobe—something large and cozy for those moments when you feel extra stressed out, soothing yourself with his scent—you’ve denied yourself that small indulgence with this move, figuring it’s only right to cut yourself off too.

“My roommate might have something.” You wince at the thought of asking your roommate for a favour after the way Caleb behaved towards him earlier but you had no other choice.

You instruct Caleb to stay put while you pad over to your roommate's door, rapping softly against the frame. You hear footsteps inside before the door swings open, and your roommate quirks an eyebrow at you in question. “Yes?”

“Would you happen to have some spare pajamas I can borrow?” You ask sheepishly and your roommate cocks his head to the side. “Oh, is your boyfriend staying over?” He asks, his eyes flickering to the marks on your neck.

Your hand comes up self-consciously, trying in vain to hide the marks he has already seen. But before you can sputter out a response, someone else answers for you.

“Yes.” Caleb beams, coming up from behind you, his arm wrapping snugly around your waist. You flush, feeling his almost naked body, still dressed in just a towel, pressing into you.

You roommates let out a little amused breath at Caleb’s little display before he heads back into his room, rummaging around for a bit. He returns with a set of loose gray sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, handing them over with a knowing smirk. “Here. You can keep them.”

“Thank you!” You yelp, snatching up the pajamas and ushering Caleb back into your room quickly before he can embarrass you further.

When the door is shut behind you, Caleb plops down on your bed with a grin. “I like him.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Wasn’t this the same guy he was trying to intimidate just a few hours earlier?

“Stop doing that.” You hiss at him and he gives you a confused look. “Doing what?”

But you won’t let him play dumb. “Pretending to be my boyfriend.”

He laughs. “Would you rather I tell him I'm your little brother instead?”

You throw the pajamas in his face. “You're a bad boy.”

“That's not what you said when I had my fingers—”

You flush, cutting him off. “Do you want to be thrown out onto the street?”

His grin falls. Well, most of it. “No, ma'am.”

“Then get dressed.” You huff, turning around and walking to the mirror to inspect the marks on your neck.

“Look what you've done, you brat. Now I'm going to have to find a way to cover these up with makeup.”

“Why cover them up? They look pretty.” He comes up behind you, wrapping you in his arms and pressing a kiss to the marks.

“They are inappropriate.” You turn on him, and that’s when you notice he's only wearing sweats. “Where is your shirt?”

“It's too tight. Didn't wanna rip it.”

Your gaze sweeps over him, noting that the pants are short and tight too, and you sigh, suddenly so very tired. You don’t feel like running around trying to find him something else. There is no point really.

And so you drag your feet to the bed, eager to get to sleep, and Caleb follows suit, eager too but there is no hint of fatigue on his face. He slips under the covers right after you, pulling you into him and curling around you like a vine, his arm draped around your waist and his leg tangled with yours.

He looks so happy, so peaceful and content with you in his arms, and it breaks your heart because this is exactly the kind of closeness you’re trying to sever. It hurts you to think that while he’s so happy about this, you’re secretly plotting all the ways you can push him away.

“I guess this apartment isn’t a bad idea after all.” He sighs contentedly, his hand tracing the curve of your cheek with feather-light touches that burn you with guilt like a brand. “I could come here after school, have your food ready when you get back, help you study, and then help you relax with my fingers… Then we could sleep in each other’s arms just like this, and I'll get up early in the morning to head to school.”

He looks up at you with such innocent hope, his wishes so simple yet impossible. As his older sister, you always strived to give him everything he ever wanted. You never imagined that one day you would hold the power to fulfill his desires... and find yourself thinking about refusing him.

“Caleb, you need to focus on your studies so you can go to the DAA, remember?” You remind him gently but firmly, trying to steer him back to solid ground.

“If you really care about my studies, then you’d let me do it, jiejie.” He counters, his lips jutting forward in a pout. “You know I won’t be able to concentrate if you’re not with me. I'd be worried sick. I might even fail…”

“Don’t blackmail me, you brat.” You scold, and your fingers pinch his cheek in reprimand.

He giggles, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent before letting out a content sigh as if just the smell of you soothes him.

You wish it would have ended there. You wish you could have gone to sleep in your little brother’s arms after he rubbed your pussy and came on your thigh. Those were disgusting, monstrous things, but at least you could still claim ignorance. Up until now, you could pretend you didn’t know any better. Not anymore.

“Maybe we can even go all the way here, jiejie.” He continues, murmuring those killer words against your neck so softly and with no hint of hesitation, as if he was discussing trying out a new restaurant you'd both been excited about rather than committing the ultimate sin you never wish to partake in.

“What?” You choke out, flinching away from him instinctively, your body tensing as you put a hand to his chest to create some distance.

“Don’t get me wrong—I love your mouth and your little hands.” He bulldozes through as if he hasn’t noticed your horrified reaction. “And now that I’ve tasted you, I'll be back for more any chance I get.” He shifts closer, undeterred. “But I can’t wait for jiejie to teach me how to go all the way.”

“Who says I’ll do that?” You sputter, pushing harder against him now, your heart racing with a nauseating mix of panic and arousal.

“It’s what my cock is for, isn't it? To fill jiejie’s hole.” He asks, the words crude and filthy coming from his sweet mouth, and he starts grinding against you again. His hands slide to your thighs, strong fingers gripping them as he drapes one of your legs over his waist, pulling you flush against him so you feel every inch of how hard he is, the friction sending unwelcome shivers racing up your spine, heat pooling in your belly despite yourself.

You don't want to be turned on by the way he's acting, but you're only human, and despite all the distance you've tried to enforce, you can't deny that your brother is an attractive... man? Boy? Male? The distinctions blur in your mind, all sounding so utterly wrong, but your body doesn't care about labels or morality. It responds with a traitorous throb, a heat that flushes through you like an inferno.

Your mind, however, is screaming at you to stop this madness, to untangle yourself from him before he consumes you.

“Stop this. We’re not having sex, Caleb.”

“Why? I want it so bad, jiejie.” He pleads, grinding harder against you as if he can convince you of his need that way.

“You can’t get everything you want, Caleb.” You choke out those blasphemous words, and Caleb startles, his frown petulant, like a young god forsaken by his most devout follower.

“Why not? You’re my jiejie. You should give me everything I want. You promised.” He calls you out, but you shake your hand, your voice strained. “Not this.”

“Why not?” He asks, and god, you’ve come to hate those two words more than any other combination in any language known to man.

Why not? Why can't you get me off, jiejie? Why can’t you put your mouth on me? Why can’t I taste you? Why can’t you kiss me? Why can’t you fuck me? Why can’t you flip off the world and spit in the face of god to make me happy, jiejie?

“You said you want me to get a girlfriend.” He frowns as he says it, pressing his lips together in a thin line as if he was doing you a great favour. “She’ll want to have sex with me. I need to practice that too, you know.”

You freeze at the unwelcome thoughts his reminder brings up. Yes, you wanted him to get a girlfriend. You wanted him to move on from his strange attachment to you. And you knew that meant he will be kissing someone else, letting her touch him, fucking her…. but the thought makes you queasy.

“Have you changed your mind, jiejie?” His body presses against yours as he waits for your response, his breath warm on your skin, the room suddenly feeling too small, too hot.

"I haven’t. But you don’t need practice to—" You start, but he interrupts with a kiss and a whine, grinding once more to emphasize his point, his hands wandering higher under your shirt, fingertips brushing the underside of your breasts, eyes dark with need. “Please, jiejie.”

You slap his hands from under your shirt, ignoring the way your nipples have pebbled at the promise of his touch. “I’m not going to take your virginity!”

“It’s okay. I want you to.” He counters as if that was the only potential issue he could forsee. “I want you to teach me how to be good for you. I want to learn all the ways I can make you cum.”

“Not me.” You remind him, your heart pounding in your ribcage. “Your girlfriend.”

“Yes, my girlfriend.” He repeats off handedly, “I want to learn to be good for my girlfriend.”

“Well, you don’t need to.” You tell him and he gives you a skeptical look, but before he can start to argue, you explain yourself, “First times are supposed to be awkward and sweet. It doesn’t matter because it’s with someone special, that’s what makes it feel good. Your first time has to be with someone special.”

“Who is more special than jiejie?” His brows furrow in that endearing way they do when he’s confused. Normally it gives you the uncontrollable urge to ruffle his hair and squeeze his cheeks fondly, but now it just twists the knife of guilt deeper in your chest, and you’re reminded of how far you’ve made him stray.

“Someone you're in love with.” You explain, your heart aching at the way he overlooks—or ignores—the glaring red flags in the things he’s asking for that should be evident to him if only you'd raised him correctly and set better boundaries from the start.

“I'm in love with jiejie.” He smiles serenely, and you can feel his heart beating steadily against your chest, the rhythm insistent as if echoing the madness of his words.

Your own heart refuses to believe it, rejecting even the idea of it.

“No, Caleb, not like that.” You chastise him, a flicker of anger bursting out of you at his cluelessness. You know it’s not his fault. He doesn’t know any better, but innocence can hurt just as much as malevolence.

“Like what?” He challenges, “Like wanting to be with you every second of every day? Wanting to see you smile always? Wanting to give you everything you could ever want? Wanting to kiss you? Wanting to make you cum on my fingers, my tongue, my co—”

“Caleb, stop it!” You hiss. Is he doing this on purpose? Is he punishing you for leaving him? “You’re not in love with me. You love me because I am your sister and I’ve always given you what you wanted—probably more than I should have. It made you all confused, and now you can’t tell the difference between familial love and romantic love.”

Anger flashes in his own eyes then, and he glares at you. “Is that what you think? That I am an idiot who doesn’t know how I feel?”

“That’s the way you’ve been acting all this time.” You scoff, not coaxing your words this time. He needs to hear the ugly truth, even if it hurts. You’ve been shielding him from it for too long. “You refuse to listen to me or to reason. You demand more and more from me but refuse to even think about other options.”

“There are no other options.” He states flatly, his jaw set in stubborn determination.

“There are!” You insist, your voice rising with frustration. “You haven’t even been with anyone else. You need to go out and date and actually fall in love, and then you'll find the right person that you can have sex with and not regret it.”

The words taste bitter on your tongue, sour with the unwanted images they conjure—a normal, well-adjusted life for him, a sweet, pretty girlfriend who will take care of him and love him openly, someone he can dote on and build a future free from shame.

But Caleb doesn’t look ashamed. He looks hurt, his features twisting as if he’s about to argue back, his mouth opening with the beginnings of a retort… but then his face suddenly smooths over and he gives you a tight smile that unnerves you.

“So I need to date so I know who I really love before I have sex?” He asks, tilting his head as if pondering the idea seriously.

You nod slowly, feeling like you’re walking straight into a trap but unable to do anything to sidestep it.

“Then let’s date.” He says simply, and you can’t decide if the normal reaction to his insane proclamations should be expectation—because you should be used to them by now—or abject horror, because nothing about them should ever be normal or expected. “Then you’ll see that I love you, jiejie.”

“Caleb, seriously, grow up.” You shout at him, feeling like you could actually have a heart attack from all the stress he’s causing you. Why does he struggle to understand such a simple concept? How could you have fucked him up so badly?

"Why not?" He repeats those vexing words again. "We’re already like a couple. We do everything together. I take care of you by cooking and cleaning and doing chores, and you take care of me by using your pretty mouth... isn't that what dating is? Just us, like always, but better."

“Because we’re siblings.” You grit out, the words almost losing their meaning from how often you’ve said them. Not that they seem to have ever made much sense to Caleb anyway. “Siblings don’t date.”

He leans in again, his nose brushing against yours as he gazes down at you softly, and speaks to you in a conspiratory voice like you’re both in on a secret. "No one knows us here. I could take you out, hold your hand in public, kiss you whenever I want... and then come home and put it in, like I’ve always dreamt about, and no one would stop us. Doesn't that sound perfect, jiejie?"

He starts grinding against you again, his own words clearly exciting him, but you can only stare at him in horror.

This has gone way beyond just sexual fantasies—hormone-driven urges that could be dismissed or redirected. Your sweet brother has completely lost his mind, dreaming up a delusional fantasy where you could date openly, be boyfriend and girlfriend, maybe even get married one day? Who the hell knows anymore? The boundaries of his imagination seem terrifyingly limitless—nonexistent.

“No, Caleb. Even if no one knew, it would still be wrong.” You tell him, feeling like you’re the one going insane. "We would still know we’re family.”

“I don't care.” He says defiantly, and you know that now. You finally understand why he couldn’t seem to grasp why everything you were doing was so wrong. He understands it well. He just doesn’t care.

“God, what did I do to you? I really messed you up, huh?” You ask, horrified, and Caleb flinches back, his expression crumpling as if you’ve struck him across the face.

“Is the idea of being with me that disgusting to you, jiejie?” He asks, that ugly self-doubt discoloring his features, draining the color from his face and making it pallid and gaunt, shadows pooling under his eyes like bruises.

“It’s not because of you, baby.” You rush to clarify, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek, thumb tracing the dark circles under his eyes as if you can wipe them away. “Anyone would want you. If you weren’t my brother—” You swallow down the words like bile. “You are my brother—my precious little baby—and I could never do that to you.”

“So you can let me grind against you like a dog. You can get me off with your hands and your mouth. You can kiss me and let me put my mouth on your pussy. But you can’t date me?” He scoffs, his brows knitting together in confusion and hurt. “I’m good enough to play with but not good enough to date?”

“No, Caleb, you know that’s not true.” You shake your head vehemently, begging him to believe you. You just wanted to help him, to ease his pain without hurting him more. But a little bit of hurt is healthy, necessary even, and that’s where you went terribly wrong.

“It’s what it feels like.” He mutters, his voice small and wounded.

“I’m just trying to do what’s best for you, didi. That’s all I ever wanted to do.” You explain softly, trying to make him see. But he doesn’t want to see. “You said it yourself. I’m not a child anymore. I decide what's right for me.”

“Not when you have an older sister.” You counter firmly. “Not when you haven't even seen what the world has to offer. You need to leave home and go to college, meet new people, date around until you find the one—the girl you actually love. Then you’ll see how this has all been a mistake.”

All the anger flies off his face in an instance, replaced by utter anguish, the likes of which you have never and should have never seen on your beloved brother’s face. His brows scrunch up and his eyes flood with tears, and before you can reach out or say anything to stop them, they fall freely, coming out in pained sobs, soaking his face as if you’d tried to drown him.

“I may be your mistake, jiejie, but you’ll never be mine. I love you. I love you so much it hurts. That’s why I keep asking for more and more. I know you want to get rid of me because I am selfish and needy. I tried so long to stop myself from wanting you so you wouldn’t pull away exactly like you’re doing right now, but I can’t help it. I would do anything to make you stay with me. I wish I could stop loving you so you wouldn’t leave, but I can’t. You’d have to rip my heart out of my chest to make it stop.” He sucks in a shuddering breath before taking you under with him. “I’m sorry. I don’t blame you for not wanting me.”

“I do.” You choke out, the confession tearing from your throat at the sight of him, your own eyes stinging with tears.

“You do?” He asks, a twinge of hope flickering in his eyes that search your face for a lifeline.

“I do want you.” You admit, the words burning your tongue. “And I hate myself for it.”

“Why?” His face colors with a rush of hope, eyes brightening as he leans into your touch, and for a moment he starts to look like your baby once more. “If we both want each other—”

“Caleb, please.” You interrupt, tears streaming down your own face now, pleading for him to have mercy on you.

“Why are you doing this to me, jiejie? Why are you hurting me?”

Oh, he can be so cruel.

“I only want what’s best for you.” You repeat helplessly and he shakes his head. “You’re the best thing I could ever have.”

“You don’t know that.” You insist, “You haven’t seen what else is out there.”

“I don’t want to.” He answers stubbornly.

“You have to. How else would you know if there is something better if you don’t even look for it?”

You know you’re going around in circles, and Caleb knows it too. He falls silent, wrapping himself tightly around you so you wouldn’t leave. You couldn’t. Not now. You wonder if you could ever truly leave.

The silence stretches on, submerging you both under it so neither of you would be able to take a breath without choking. It presses on you more and more, making your limbs heavy and your mind murky.

You start to wonder if this is the end of it, at least for tonight. You don’t know if you want it to be, not if nothing is resolved and you have to go through this torment again. But the silence lulls your tired body towards a restless stupor, and you’ve almost given into it when you hear Caleb speak again, his voice muffled but it jolts you back from slumber anyway.

“If I… if I go to college and meet girls.” He starts uneasily, his voice sounding so far away. “If I date and graduate and by the end of it all still know that you’re the one for me—will you date me then?”

You open your mouth to speak, but the protest must be evident on your face because he stops you with a finger to your lips.

“You said you want me. You said you won’t be with me because I haven’t seen what’s out there. If I see it and I still want you, why can’t I be with you? And don’t tell me it’s because we’re family—not after everything we’ve done. Are you a liar, jiejie?” He argues with all the conviction of a child confronting their parents about a promise they’ve gone back on. But you didn’t promise him this. You promised him love but not this. Though you don’t think Caleb knows the difference, and it’s all your fault.

You must fix it. You have to believe you still can.

“Okay.” You let out in a garbled breath, signing off your own sentence. “If you go to the DAA and date and give it an honest shot…. if you do it for four years and you still want me… I’ll be yours.”

a/n: tell me why version b (this one) is twice as long as the original version (the other one)? i'm kinda leaning towards this now but also mean didi caleb is yummy too ugh it's in your hands guys taglist for all my caleb fics: @mcdepressed290, @monoidmango, @seraphineash, @lewdcifer778, @strayy-kidz, @virtualdonutcashdeputy, @airachniide, @deceptive-solitude, @mimiluvzu2, @smmnlz, @secretarykitten, @fukyachickennuggets-blog, @joannafaustus, @rose3heartzzz, @unadulteratedtranquility, @pixiu-palindrome, @iwillstealyouruwus, @lilkittenskiss, @remnantsofgildedcages, @cinnabean3, @pookiei-bookie

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