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You're My Present

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It's not even Christmas anymore. Their parents finally gave up the battle against the sandman and headed upstairs, leaving them alone in the living room. She snuggled against him, head resting on his chest while he caught up on a year's worth of missed TV. He'd pulled one of the snowmen throws over them, necessary when she couldn't help running her fingers up and down the inside of his thigh.

The credits rolled on the last episode of NCIS and they both stretched some of the stiffness out of their limbs. She'd changed back into his old baseball shirt, the cotton thin and stretched so the neck hung over her bare shoulder proving she'd also forgone a bra. He could just see the tips of her nipples peaking against the material.

"So, do you want some more coffee?" she asked hopefully. They all apparently thought he was going to disappear again the instant they closed their eyes.

"Hell no," he answered with a smile to take away the sting. "It was all right after that airport crap, but now I think I'll wait until my other bags get here and I can share the good stuff with you. You wouldn't believe the difference."

He picked up her legs and swung them over his lap, hand slipping a little higher on her thigh than he really needed to. He picked up the small square box from the side table, and smiled at the abused red bow barely holding on to the tape. "Here," he said, handing it over. "You still haven't opened your present."

She squealed over the music box and beaded necklace just like he knew she would. He'd brought gifts for everyone that he'd bought from the local villagers. He'd been there, planning irrigation, building homes and doing whatever else needed doing. It was good work, they needed the help, and he loved doing it, but he missed his family. He missed his sister.

"I'm glad you like it," he said, drawing her attention from the carved wood until she looked up at him. He took the crumpled bow and dropped it on the front of his sweats. "But that wasn't the present I was talking about."

"Oh, you suck," she giggled, setting the box aside and straddling his lap. Her short shorts rode up, and he couldn't help tickling under the material into the soft crease of her skin. She sobered quickly, lacing her fingers behind his neck, "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," he said, shifting her forward until she pressed down on his dick. He'd barely made it through dinner watching her lick and suck on her fork, and then waiting until they were alone. A year without her had felt like a lifetime. "You're so beautiful, I'll bet all the boys are after you."

She sighed, rocking her hips and curling her fingers into his hair. "I let them look, but I'll never let anyone but you touch me," she said, her voice a soft flame that licked down his belly.

The clock in the hallway chimed twice, a fitting hour to hide in. He knew he shouldn't be the one to make his baby sister moan. He shouldn't know what she looked like with her toes curled in pleasure. The first time, they'd just been playing, wrestling on the carpet for control of the TV. They hadn't even kissed, but somehow, she'd held him down and rubbed until he came in his pants.

The second time had been far more satisfying.

He leaned forward and caught her nipple in his mouth, sucking it through her shirt and smiling as it hardened. After he treated the other side with the same attention, he caught the tail of her shirt and pulled it over her head. There wasn't any point hashing over the old arguments, they both knew what they wanted. Her breasts filled his hands a little more than they had before he left, and he noticed a new flare to her hips.

"You're growing up on me," he said, remembering when she was a tiny nine year old with her pigtails falling out, following him everywhere he went. "You'll be the one leaving me behind soon."

"Never," she said, pressing against him. She took his face in her hands and turned it until their lips brushed as she spoke. "We belong together. Always."