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Sweetest Reflection

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He woke to find her standing in front of the full-length mirror, arms folded across her chest, studying her reflection as if she couldn't quite recognize it. He stepped in close to her so that his knees fit behind hers, cradled her arms with his own, and laid his chin against her shoulder, basking in the warmth and softness of her pale skin, inhaling the delicate floral scent of her shampoo. For a moment the beauty of her and the way their bodies fit together eclipsed even the shame of it - brother and sister in such an intimate embrace.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes..." her answer was undercut by the fragility of her voice, as delicate as mirrored glass. "Gonou, do you think I'm a bad person? This doesn't feel wrong to me..."

He kissed the join of her neck and shoulder, rocked a little on the balls of his feet. "Of course not. How can this be wrong when I love you so very much?"

Her smile went straight to the core of him, warm, utterly intoxicating. That was the smile he had fallen so helplessly in love with. He pressed his lips against the side of her neck and let his hand wander down over her stomach, slipping two fingers into the warm folds between her legs. He liked her reaction to that, the soft sigh that escaped her parted lips and the way she leaned back against him. He worked his fingers against the tender flesh and watched her reflection, enraptured, as the flush of arousal spread over her body, beginning simultaneously at her hips and cheeks, finally merging in the space beneath her breasts.

"You're so beautiful Kanan - so very beautiful."

She shuddered against him, though whether it was from his words or his touch he couldn't say, and it didn't much matter. All Gonou cared about in that moment was how beautiful she was, how good her body felt against his own, and that she was undeniably, irrevocably his. His sister, his lover, the heart of his universe wrapped in a package of tender, smooth flesh straining towards his own.

"Oh Gonou..." her legs shifted apart just slightly, enough that he could slide his fingers deeper, changing from simply rubbing to a slow caress, spreading moisture with his fingertips. Kanan brought a hand up and threaded it through his hair, almost pulling as he kissed along her shoulder, her neck, her cheek. His body longed for her as strongly as it had just hours ago when they had first made love; he was certain he would never tire of her, never cease to want her as powerfully as he did in that perfect moment as she rocked her hips towards his fingers and then back against his aching arousal.

She pulled away from him suddenly, and his fingers dragged across her hip, leaving a wet smear before she grabbed up his hand and pulled him with her, back towards the bed, where the coarse-woven hotel sheets lay rumpled in evidence of their earlier passion.

As he knelt between her spread legs - awed by the sight of her stretched so vulnerably, trustingly before him - Gonou realized there was blood on the sheets as well, only a little, but enough to recall to his mind the slight resistance he had felt as he moved towards her and her sigh of pleasure/pain when he entered her at last.

The memory made his head spin, his heart race; no man would ever be to her what he was.

"Gonou..." She reached towards him with one hand, her other arm thrown across the pillow above her head, a tiny crease of worry between her eyebrows. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," he laughed gently, leaning forward to kiss away that tiny spot of tension, "you took my breath away, that's all."

He could see himself reflected in the gentle green of her eyes, and for a moment he imagined he could see all her love for him as well, sparkling in their depths, everything he had been searching for for so long.

"Well," she smiled, reaching up carefully to remove his glasses, "I really wish you would take mine away instead."

He kissed her then, letting their tongues slip together in a sweet caress as he reached for the box of condoms on the nightstand - and oh the shame when he had gone to purchase those! He had been so certain that everyone would know, that the dark truth of his intentions had been written all over his face. But no one had any idea. No mob of outraged citizens had come to break down their door; god himself had not seen fit to strike them down. This joy, this pleasure, this tenuous wholeness, was for them and them alone.

He was more confident this time as he rolled the condom down over his erection, and so was she, tracing the velvet-smooth tips of her fingers down his shaft and over his testicles, causing him to shudder and reluctantly draw her hand away before he could embarrass himself horribly.

He kissed the hollow of her throat, and then down along the pathway between her breasts, as she ran her hands along the planes of his back, up his neck and through his hair. As he pushed inside her she sighed, like it was a beautiful relief to feel him there, and wrapped her legs around him. He moved deep into the hot slickness of her, mixing thrusts with kisses, breathless gasps and whispered oaths, tangling their fingers together. Her body rolled against his, undulating with each thrust, and the heat that encased him rippled in time, as if to pull him deeper within her.

"Oh Gonou, Gonou!" She dug her fingers into the small of his back, pulling him towards her with such desperation, such abandon that he was sure he hurt her; but the frantic shuddering and the tiny, aching noises rose only from pleasure and not pain as her orgasm swept through her, pulling him all too quickly after.

He wanted to linger inside her afterwards, to feel her all around him, her beautiful, shivering body meshed perfectly with his; instead he reluctantly drew out, pulling the condom off and walking to the bathroom to discard it alongside the first. When he turned back towards the bed she was wrapped in the blankets, gazing at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Come here Gonou," she said finally, reaching for him, and he went gratefully to the warm cocoon of limbs and blankets. He waited for her to fall asleep his time, unwilling to let her move away from him, tracing his fingertips over every inch of skin he could find, wanting to etch her into his memory forever, like an image trapped in glass.