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It’s still strange seeing her like this. She looks serene, despite the scenery around her; the harsh lights, the white walls, the grey linoleum flooring, the screens, the beeping from the machines, the tubes and bags filled with liquids Megumi doesn’t recognize. It’s for keeping her alive, that much he knows.
Tsumiki has been confined to this bed for half a year now. Megumi visits as often as he can. He mostly just sits by the edge of her bed, watching her. He tells her about the things that happen at school sometimes. His latest mission, or about Gojo’s latest stupid prank on him.
But mostly, he just looks at her. Like today. He’s been here for about half an hour already, sitting in complete silence. The nurses leave him be whenever he’s there and he’s grateful for it.
Especially now.
Because Megumi has been having these dreams lately, about Tsumiki. And they start off like they’ve always done; her holding him, cradling him in her arms when they both need the comfort. Like it was before. Megumi has always craved her touch, ever since they were brought together as kids.
He craves it even more now that he’s gone without it for so long, since she stepped into this deep slumber. Under all the worry, the anxiety and sadness that grows each day of her not waking up, he craves her like a child does a parent.
Except. For the past couple of days the dreams haven’t ended there. Recently, his hands have traveled further than where they sit over her back, when he’s seated in her embrace. His dream self has felt her skin where he knows he should not, has pressed his lips to her neck and her jaw and her lips.
The boundaries have pushed beyond what Megumi himself has ever dared to think about in a conscious state. But he’s always known, ever since he grew old enough to know certain…things, he’s known what the feeling in the bottom of his belly that surfaces whenever he’s close to Tsumiki is.
Would he dare push the boundaries even now?
Megumi moves to sit on the bed next to her, leaning in over her face. Her skin still looks so soft. They care for her well here. Her lips look plump, her hair slicked back and undisturbed.
He steadies himself with one hand beside her and brings the other up to her face. He lets two fingers land softly on her cheek and trails them down to her cupid's bow.
She’s breathing through her mouth, a faint flow of air hitting his fingertips.
Megumi feels his body grow hotter. His fingers have a slight tremble to them as he moves them down to press onto Tsumiki’s bottom lip. For a second he thinks he should stop. He’s never gone beyond a simple caress.
But there’s been too many dreams. And perhaps it’s just hormones. Maybe loneliness.
Or maybe, it’s something that has always been sitting deep inside, lying dormant within Megumi. It burns through him now, a want, a need.
His fingers slip between her lips. He’s met with teeth, but it’s easy to get past them as well. It surprises him how wet it is, considering the fact that she’s been unconscious for so long. But he’s seen it once, how they clean and care for her mouth, as well as the rest of her body. He silently thanks the staff for not letting her deteriorate. For keeping her so pretty and clean and soft. For him.
Megumi lets his fingers push only slightly further, pressing the pads of his fingertips onto her tongue. For a second he thinks he feels it move, but it must be his imagination.
It feels incredible inside her. It’s something he’s never felt before. He imagines what it would be like to stick his cock in there, as he moves the fingers from side to side, careful not to push too far back. If he triggers her gag reflex, something was sure to alert the staff outside.
Tsumiki, Tsumiki. Oh how he misses her.
Megumi removes his fingers and moves himself off the bed. For a second he pauses and tries to gather his thoughts. But his feelings get the better of him. He’s already made his mind up, even if there is a tiny part of him that tries to break through and tell him to stop. That it’s not too late.
He grabs the edge of the blanket that’s pulled up over her chest and pulls it down to fold it over her legs. She’s wearing a simple hospital gown, one with no back, held together by a tie in the back. It dulls the illusion somewhat. Megumi wishes he could dress her in her regular clothes. Touch her through them instead of this sterile thing.
Then again, he probably couldn’t do this if she wasn’t bound to a bed. Surely, Tsumiki would not let her little brother caress her like this, wouldn’t let him touch her with the heated touch of a lover who wants too much.
He’s still just a child. Then again, so is she. There’s only a year between them. But she’s grown quicker, filled out well even before she was supposed to. Megumi has grown too, especially in the last year, but he knows he’s got far more growing to do than his sister.
He looks at her chest, the mounds of flesh carrying the flimsy fabric of the hospital gown. They look smaller like this, different from when she’s standing up. He reaches out with his left hand and hovers it above her.
She won’t be able to tell, will she? Megumi vaguely remembers hearing somewhere that coma patients can remember conversations that were had around or with them, but what about touch? Will she remember this?
His hand lands, shaky and unsteady. It’s not warm, not cold. The blue fabric doesn’t feel too good against his palm but underneath is her skin and Megumi’s throat feels so constricted he’s scared to try and swallow.
There’s been times when he’s felt her breasts, of course. Against his chest when they hug, against his back when she holds him from behind, or accidentally with an arm or back of a hand. But never like this.
Megumi sets his left knee on the bed, letting his right foot stay on the floor. He brings his right hand over to her left breast, equal pressure on both now. His arms are shaking. No, more like vibrating.
He pushes down, and squeezes his fingers. Tsumiki’s breasts fit well into his hands, only some areas not covered. He’s never understood the fascination with bigger tits that others have. His sisters are perfect.
Megumi moves his fingers in a gripping motion, caressing her breasts through the gown. He feels his dick twitch, straining under the fabric of his pants. He keeps thinking about whether she knows he’s doing this. If she would stop him if he were awake.
Part of him knows she wouldn’t. She’s a good sister. She takes care of him.
He wants to go underneath. Feel her skin on his.
So he does. He moves up on the bed properly, straddling her hips. Tsumiki is so still, so perfect. So pretty.
Megumi dips his hands down on each side of her and underneath until he feels the opening of the gown. It’s tied together but loose enough to let his hands slip under and up over her chest again.
He grabs her just like before, maybe a bit harder this time. Her skin is so soft and supple. He moves his fingers and finds her nipples, surrounding them with his thumbs and forefingers.
He rolls and rubs the nub that already sits quite stiff between his fingers. Megumi has noticed that before, the protrusion of them through Tsumiki’s shirts when she’s not wearing a bra. It made him nervous when he could see them and he used to always try his best not to stare.
But it was hard not too. And now, he can feel them. Finally.
This has been in his dreams a lot as of late. He pinches and pulls a little just like he does in his head as he sleeps, a careful eye on her face just in case this somehow would be the trigger for her awakening.
She doesn’t move a muscle.
Megumi pinches harder, pulls upward as hard as he can under the constricting fabric.
He needs this pale blue gown off of her. Now.
With gained confidence he pulls his arms out from under the gown and slides them behind Tsumiki’s torso once more. He prays, again, that nothing he does will alert the machines around them.
He fumbles with the strings that are tied together in a bow for a bit before he manages to undo them. Then, he pulls the fabric that’s sitting under her out and pushes it up to expose her body. The fabric bunches up over her chest, the plastic making a sound that reminds Megumi too much of the fact that this is real, and not a dream. They are still at the hospital.
Underneath the gown, Tsumiki is wearing a pair of shorts. Megumi doesn’t know why he’s surprised. It would be a bit strange to leave a coma patient completely nude underneath her gown, wouldn’t it?
He hooks his finger into the fabric right under her navel and pulls down, moving to sit next to her so he can slide the ugly white shorts all the way down and off of her feet. He lifts her legs by the ankles and goes to kneel in between them, letting her legs extend, placing her heels on his chest.
They’re even taking care of her feet so well. Megumi wonders if perhaps Satoru ordered the hospital to do more than what’s really necessary for a comatose person. It wouldn’t surprise him at all.
He presses a kiss to the pretty bend of her sole on her right foot, before he lowers her legs to the bed again. The spread gives him a clear vision of what sits in between them, and Megumi can’t believe he’s actually seeing it.
Her pubes are dark, like the hair on her head, and would be hiding her parts well if it weren’t for how Megumi’s placement of himself between her legs spread her thighs just enough to give him a glimpse of pink.
He leans in, steadying himself with his hands on her thighs, sliding them all the way to her groin. His fingers are still shaking a bit, but their movements are more decided than hesitant now.
There’s no way he’s turning back now. Not when he’s this close.
He moves his hands closer, edging his thumbs into the hair until they sit on her outer labia and he pulls. She opens up beautifully, wet and glistening. Megumi wonders if that’s normal, or if somehow, she’s felt all of it, and the wetness stems from his touches.
There’s no way of knowing, but he decides to believe it’s his doing. He inches closer, nudging his knees under hers to lift her legs up a bit more as he positions himself better. With clumsy movements he takes his hands back to himself, to undo the buttons of his pants. He fumbles, has to try several times with the last button, but it finally budges. He pushes his pants down just a little, along with his briefs, but far enough to pull out his cock.
He spits into his left hand before he grabs a hold of himself and starts stroking, eyes fixated on the sight in front of him. She’s like a doll. The prettiest doll there is.
Megumi thinks about just moving up and pushing into her straight away. It’s not like she could stop him. But he hesitates.
What if she did wake up, if the inevitable pain would be enough to rouse her?
Megumi decides it’s not worth the risk. Although he’s stressed for time, constantly worried that someone might think he’s been in there for longer than usual and goes to check on him, he realises he has to be careful.
So with his free hand, he reaches forward again. He drags his fingers between her folds, stopping to rub circles on her clit. It makes her body twitch unexpectedly and he flinches, pauses, looks up to her face. Nothing.
He looks at the machines. Nothing. Good.
Turning back to his fingers, he lets them travel down again, until he feels the place where it dips inward. Megumi pushes his middle finger into it and lets out a choked breath as it sinks in with ease, all the way to the knuckle.
Inside Tsumiki it’s warm, wet and so soft. The walls of her pussy wrap around him so sweetly, muscles relaxed and pliant. He moves his finger, from side to side just like he did in her mouth. His cock grows even harder in his hand.
Megumi drags the finger out and pushes back in with his index finger alongside it. There’s a bit of resistance, a stretch, but it gives way easily.
A perk of her vegetative state, he supposes.
He fingers her gently, slow and sweet. Imagines her being awake and letting out noises, high-pitched moans and groans that she would try to hide from him when it feels too good. He wants to make her come like this, like he’s heard the older ones at school talk about. He wants to have her shaking on his fingers, flushed with shame from letting her little brother do it to her.
He wants to hear her call him ‘otouto’ when he opens her, and have her beg for the release.
Megumi shakes his head. He needs to get a move on, can’t get stuck in fantasies like that. He pulls his fingers out, and shuffles even closer.
The hand around his cock steers while the other holds her open with thumb and index finger. He holds his breath as the head touches the rim of her hole, and releases it when he pushes in.
About half of his cock sinks in before he stops and rearranges himself. His body lurches forward, hands rushing to steady himself against the mattress.
He looks at her face. No movements. The notion makes him relieved. But there’s a hint of angst that sits underneath as well. Megumi wishes she was awake, of course.
His eyes move down to where he’s breached her. The sight is beautiful. It’s just like he’s dreamed. He moves, slowly, dragging out just a little before he pushes forward and forward, until he’s all the way in.
Tsumiki’s insides feel even better than in his dreams. They encase his cock as if he’s stuck it in butter, soft and melting around him. There’s more pressure now than there was over his fingers and he remembers that he doesn’t actually know if his sister has done this before.
If perhaps she has already let someone else come close to her like this, has let them take her for the first time before Megumi could. The thought makes an uneasy feeling rise within him and he starts moving, a little harder with each thrust.
The movement has Tsumiki’s entire body moving along the bed, her head nodding along and getting dangerously close to hitting the headboard.
What he feels is anger, he realises, and stops abruptly. No, he doesn’t want to be angry with Tsumiki. He cannot know if she’s already had sex with someone else. There’s no point in wondering about it. He pushes the feeling away best he can and picks up the movement again, this time gentler.
Megumi's arms start to ache and he moves down, pressing his still clothed torso against Tsumiki’s bare one as he lets his elbows hit the mattress on each side of her head. He nuzzles in against her neck, breathing in her scent.
Despite being here for so long, in this sterile environment, she smells the same right there. An earthy, warm scent that only Tsumiki gives off. The one he always looks for when she hugs him. His heart beats faster but his breath settles, the shaking of his limbs ceasing with each inhale.
Megumi is so focused on the smell that he doesn’t realise someone entered the room before they’re close. Had it been anyone else, he would have felt it earlier.
But he doesn’t notice until they’re right there, a blur in his periphery. He lifts his head quickly, pushing himself up on his hands again.
“Oh, no, keep going. Don’t let me disturb you.”
Satoru is standing by the bed, seemingly unfazed by the sight in front of him. After all, he must have known what was going on before he decided to walk in.
Megumi stays as still as he can despite the encouragement. His cock stays hard, twitching within Tsumiki and it’s taking all of his willpower not to move again.
"Gojo-sensei, I-”
Satoru hushes him and moves closer, until he’s getting up on the bed next to the two siblings. Megumi flinches and goes to move but Satoru stops him by grabbing his body, one hand at his shoulder and one on the part of his thigh that is still clothed.
“You don’t think I already knew, Megumi?” Satoru says, his voice the same as any other day. A bit more amused, perhaps. And, what? He knew about…this?
Megumi tries to get the words out to ask but his tongue is too heavy, his muscles too stiff. He looks at Satoru, but it’s hard to read him, with that blindfold over his eyes. It would probably be difficult even if he was not wearing it.
“You’re not subtle. Now, go on. You’re not finished are you?”
Satoru moves to sit behind him, getting himself comfortable right over Megumi’s feet, lifting and moving Tsumiki’s up a little to fit in with his thighs alongside Megumi’s own. He places her feet on his own thighs when he settles, causing her legs to spread just a little bit more.
They’re both kneeling now, angled forward just slightly and Satoru’s weight presses onto Megumi’s back. An arm wraps itself around his shoulders and he flinches again.
“G-Gojo-sensei, what-”
Satoru cuts him off by hushing him again. His mouth is right by Megumi’s ear now.
“Continue, Megumi-chan.”
Megumi has to actively think about breathing to do it. They are shallow breaths, he cannot muster more with how tight his chest feels.
But his body moves on its own at the words. He thrusts forward, pushes further inside Tsumiki before pulling back. His hips shake more again, like the first minute or so before he got into it.
The nervousness grows stronger again because when he glances to his right he sees his teacher, face blank but directed down towards where Megumi’s cock is sinking into his sister. And there is no way his eyes are shut behind that blindfold.
Satoru is watching. He’s not just there, letting it happen while he pretends it is not. No, he’s actively looking. Megumi lets out a little sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a moan and Satoru lifts his head slightly as if he’s looking over at him.
Megumi shuts his eyes and lets his head fall forward. He repositions his hands next to Tsumiki’s waist, grabbing a hold of the sheet covering the mattress to keep himself up. His arms are getting tired.
“I’ve got you, come on,” Satoru says into his ear, his breath fanning over Megumi’s earlobe. It sends a shiver down his spine and he ruts quicker, staying deeper inside his sister even as he moves.
It’s all so much. The heat around his cock, Satoru’s strong arm around his upper body, the strange silence apart from the noises brought forth from where his and Tsumiki’s body connects.
For a minute or two it stays like that. Satoru doesn’t speak and Megumi tries to hide his moans as he jerks his hips faster, further, deeper into his sister's body.
When he feels the muscles in his thighs clench up he knows he’s close. Megumi slows down a little, to think. Usually, at home, he just comes into a tissue, on the floor in the shower or the occasional sock when he’s the one taking care of the laundry.
But, with a girl, where is he supposed to do it? He doesn’t want to pull out. But he’s not sure if it’s a good idea. Can Tsumiki?… he has to ask.
He wills himself to slow down his movements further as he formulates the words in his head. Satoru’s fingers squeeze around his upper arm as if he knows he’s about to talk, silently spurring him on.
“Do…do you think I can?” Megumi gets out in a hurried breath. He’s so close.
“Mm, do you want to come inside her?” Satoru sounds like he’s contemplating it, humming right next to his ear. Like he’s been thinking about it too. “She can still get pregnant, you know.”
Megumi’s thrusts are faltering. The news should have gotten him less excited. Yet it brews up a storm he doesn’t know the origin of. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t even be thinking about it. He shouldn’t get even closer to coming from thinking about it.
“It’s better not to, Megumi, you don’t want to be found out do you?” Satoru says into his ear and the arm around his chest tightens up as if ready to pull him backwards any second. “If the staff notices they might never let you in here again.”
Megumi whines and has to bite his lip to not let it out in full volume. He wants to do it. Even if he should not. Perhaps even more because of it.
“When we get her back, I bet she’ll let you breed her properly.”
Suddenly his vision is gone. Megumi isn’t sure if it’s because he’s closing his eyes or if Satoru is holding a hand over them or if he simply turned blind out of nowhere. When he regains it he’s mid orgasm and he looks down to see his cock being worked over, a hand wringing the last drops of cum out onto his sister's pale stomach underneath him.
It takes him a few seconds to realise it’s not his own hand. It’s bigger, fingers long and slender. He winces as he starts getting sensitive and Satoru lets him go. The arm around his chest is still there, holding him as his body shakes through the afters of it all.
“Good boy, Megumi, you came so much.”
Satoru speaks so calmly, has been this entire time. Like there’s nothing strange about this whole ordeal. Megumi lets his body relax back into his teacher’s bigger frame, lets his head lull back against his shoulder.
He keeps his eyes on Tsumiki, although they’re half closed and not focusing well enough. But he sees her face, still unmoving and unfazed by the things that occurred.
His eyes trail further down over where the gown is bunched up, only one breast visible after all the rustling. Below it is a speck of cum. Quite far, Megumi thinks, a tinge of pride welling up in his chest.
Most of it sits in a puddle right below her navel. Some that trickled out at the end nestles in her pubes.
“She looks so pretty,” he says, so quiet that no one else but Satoru could hear it. Megumi feels the big inhale behind him more than hears it. He ignores the hardness poking into his lower back.
“Yes. She does.”