Mistakes are made (or not)
It didn’t happen through a cliché.
Well, maybe it did, but not one of those where she’s stuck head-first into some kitchen appliance or something of that ilk, though you would say this really did happen by accident.
What? She tripped, fell, landed on your dick?
Not quite like that, but the point still stands. You didn’t begin that day, or even that evening, intending to fuck your step-sister, but, well…
“My apartment. My TV. My choice,” you told her, as you have so many times before.
“But this film is supposed to be the best. It’s got great reviews. Dani loved it…” Hanni was talking far too fast to even really pay attention. She soon started reeling off a cast list and everyone involved, and how this review called it a revelation to the genre, but you had long since started ignoring her. You know how she gets. Excitable beyond the point that someone normally would be. It’s an endearing trait, if not also annoying. The rundown of her reasons was cut short as she threw her body at you in attack.
“Hanni! What are you—”
“Just gimme the controller already!” She shouted right into your ear as she threw her arms over your shoulders. You held it out in front of you, keeping her behind your back so her arms couldn’t reach; not that it stopped her from trying. “Just one time. Please? Pretty pretty please?”
You climbed up from the sofa. Hanni clung to your back like a young panda, with her legs locked tight around your waist and her arms still fumbling around. You grabbed her by the ankle, trying to pry it away so you could drop her, or something, anything other than letting her continue. “Alright fine. Just let go, you idiot. You’re going to tear my arm off.”
She loosened her hold, just enough for you to swing her around; one arm and leg slipping free so you could throw her onto the couch. In your flailing she managed to take the TV remote with her, but the moment of peace, of silence, of satisfaction in hearing your idiot sister bounce against the cushions before breaking into a laugh and asking, “what the hell was that for?”
“What did I ever do to deserve the step-sister from hell?” You said as you flopped down at the opposite end of the couch.
“Have a mother hot enough that my dad wanted to fu—”
“You’re sick.” You cut her off before she finished. She smirked, lifting her sock-clad feet onto the sofa and settling in for movie night. She brought her knees up below her chin and started flicking through the options on the screen to find the one she wanted. Her eyes were wide in her stare, her lower lip bitten. It was pretty much the last time you ever looked at her in this innocent way again.
It was another one of those shitty horror flicks. The kind that didn’t even slightly live up to the billing she gave it before. This, however, was Hanni’s thing—whenever she convinced you, or otherwise, to finally give up control of your TV, she would put on one of these cheap horror movies and spend the whole night tucked behind a cushion.
As much as you tried for it not to be, it’s become something of a ritual, pretty much any night that she was at home, and not unbelievably tired from being overworked and didn’t have to be up at the break of dawn.
It’s your acceptance of things like that which really showed how much the two of you had grown. You remember fighting for your life against your mother and stepfather to not have to take her in. Convinced that if she wanted to move into the city so badly, she could get her own place, or go to one of those company dorms. Ultimately, you were made to see reason. Your apartment is close to her company, and you had a spare room, after all.
Not that she ever stopped annoying you beyond belief.
The movie, if you could call it that, had you fall into a slumber, and when you woke up Hanni had crawled across the length of the couch and was laid against you, her arms wrapping one of your own. She didn’t even realise you had woken up, staring as the credits rolled with a slight, peaceful smile on her face.
She had tied her hair up by now into a ponytail, pulling the hair away from her mostly bare shoulder, where the thin strap of her cropped pyjama top rested. As you peeked down at her, your eyes accidentally fell on the space down her top. It wasn’t your fault; they were just right there.
“Shit…” you muttered, catching Hanni’s attention.
“Still alive there?” She chuckled a little as she gently patted her palm against your cheek. You feigned a yawn and shut your eyes, settling your head against the pillow once more.
“Hanni, put something else on. This movie is dumb.”
“You fell asleep after like ten minutes.”
“Yeah, and it seems it didn’t take long for you to use me as a body pillow.”
Hanni pursed her lips. A red flush ran through her cheeks, and then she quickly sat up. You were watching her the whole time through half-open eyes, chuckling under your breath at her reaction.
“You’re an idiot,” she says. “Always have been.”
You shrugged in reply, “And you’re easy to tease, always will be.”
“Asshole.” She kicked at you.
She tried to kick again, and you caught her foot. You held her bare leg in the air and then lightly kicked her back, hitting her thigh.
“Let go! I’ll kick you again. Asshole!” She shouted at you, again and again, struggling to break her foot free from your hand. When you finally let her go, all her struggles made her stumble off the couch. As she went, you kicked out again, this time catching her right on the ass. “Ah! Fuck be careful you hit my plu—” She brought her hands right to her mouth when she realised what she was saying.
“Your what?” You asked.
Hanni cleared her throat, blushing to the point of matching the colour of her red short shorts. “Nothing.”
She turned away from you. Just standing there. There’s a part of you that wishes that you could go back to this moment. You would have left it there and gone to bed—never kicking her a third time.
But you did it.
Your foot flicked gently against her ass a final time and you felt it. Something hard tucked between the softness of her cheeks. She yelped again. You pinpoint this moment as the catalyst for everything that followed. It’s the part where her innocent image crumbled before your eyes and that’s what allowed you to do what you did. Though really, can you ever be sure that if it didn’t happen now, it wouldn’t have just happened the next day, or next week, or a few months down the line? You tell yourself it was inevitable.
“Is that what I think it is?”
She spun around, facing you once more, trying to muster something. She stumbled over and stuttered her words. “No! I… it’s not mine. Minji loaned me one for… just to try… it’s not.” She held the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. “This is… oh, god. This is so embarrassing.”
Hanni slumped back onto the sofa and pressed a cushion tight against her face. “Why’d you loan it?” You ask her, only to see her tighten her grip.
“Because.”
“Because what?” You sat up by her side and said something that at the time you thought would make it better, but looking back, probably came off rather creepy. “I clean your room, Hanni. I have seen worse things.”
Hanni slowly dropped the cushion into her lap and looked at you with a glare. “The fuck?”
“And if you’re going to use my laptop, try deleting the history.” At this point, you were just piling on the embarrassment.
“Fuck! Oh my God, what did you see?” She threw the cushion into your face.
You picked it out of the air. “Nothing.” You lied.
“Bullshit!” Hanni swore. “Did you see everything?”
“Nothing at all…” you said sarcastically while standing up. “I definitely didn’t see all the step-brother porn you were binging last week.”
She screamed and jumped up. You threw the pillow to stop her and stepped out of reach. “I hate you! You freak!” she shouted, cheeks burning red as the fury rose within her.
“Says the chick wearing a buttplug.” You taunted her again as you darted across the room away from her.
“What happened to boundaries!?” She lunged at you again, and you quickly sidestepped her.
She tried jumping at you once more and missed, only to strike her knee against the corner of the coffee table. She hopped back on one leg with the pain.
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