(A/N: Light Mikan Lemons
P.S. 2.3k Words)
Soon, the first full-blown lemon of Rito and Mikan will be made.
If you guys want anything included, you can comment it or commission it through my Ko fi. The commissions through ko fi will take the priority.
Now, enjoy the chapter.
*****
The front door clicked shut, locking out the cold night air.
Rito stood in the genkan, still carrying Mikan on his back. Her arms were wrapped tight around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder. The house was warm, smelling faintly of the dinner Mikan had abandoned hours ago.
"Rito! Mikan-chan!"
Lala appeared at the top of the stairs instantly, Peke floating beside her. Her eyes were red-rimmed. "You're back! I was so worried! I cleaned up the ink, I swear! Is Mikan-chan okay?"
Mikan stiffened on Rito's back. Rito felt her tension immediately.
"Lala," Rito said, his voice calm but firm. He looked up at his fiancée and motioned her with his eyes. "Mikan is tired. And she's cold. We need... quiet right now."
Lala blinked. She looked at Mikan's small form hiding against Rito, then at Rito's serious face. For once, she didn't push.
"O-Okay," Lala whispered, her antennas drooping. "I'll... I'll go to my room. Goodnight, Rito. Goodnight, Mikan-chan."
She turned and retreated into the attic portal.
Silence returned to the hallway. Rito felt Mikan relax against him, a long exhale warming his neck.
"See?" Rito whispered, shifting her weight. "I told you. You're my priority."
He carried her past the living room, past the kitchen, straight to the changing room of the bath. He set her down on the tiled floor. She wobbled slightly, her legs still weak from the emotional exhaustion.
"The bath is ready," Rito said, checking the panel. "I set it to reheat before I ran out."
He turned to her. Mikan was standing there, looking at the floor, her hands clutching the hem of her ink-stained shirt.
"Rito..." she mumbled, her face turning pink. "Are we... really doing this? We haven't bathed together since we were kids."
"I promised, didn't I?" Rito said, his own face burning a deep crimson. He scratched his cheek, looking away, but he didn't back down. "I said I'd wash you. And... I want to. I want to take care of you."
He reached for the hem of his own t-shirt.
"I'm getting in," he stated, pulling the shirt over his head.
Mikan's breath hitched.
She watched as the fabric lifted, revealing the sculpted torso that had been hiding underneath. The 5-pack was distinct in the bright bathroom light, shadows tracing the lines of his abs. His chest was broad; his arms defined with new muscle.
'He's a man…' Mikan thought, her throat dry. 'My brother is a man, no doubt about it.'
Rito tossed his shirt into the basket and hooked his thumbs into his boxers. He paused, looking at her.
"Mikan?"
She swallowed hard. Her hands trembled as she reached for her own buttons.
"Okay," she whispered. "But... don't look too much."
"I can't promise that," Rito said honestly, his voice husky. "You're my sister. I want to see you."
Slowly, piece by piece, they stripped.
When Mikan finally let her panties drop to the floor, she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hide. She was slender, pale, and covered in smudges of black ink on her arms and legs.
Rito, completely naked now, stepped closer. His 9-inch member was soft but heavy, swaying slightly with his movement. The scent of his musk filled the small room, instantly hitting Mikan's nose.
He reached out, gently taking her wrists and pulling her arms away from her chest.
"Don't hide," Rito whispered, his eyes sweeping over her body with a gaze that was protective, possessive, and undeniably male. "Let's get you warm."
…
The bathroom was filled with steam, turning the world into a soft, white haze.
Rito sat on the small bathing stool, the showerhead in his hand spraying a gentle stream of warm water. Mikan sat on the tiled floor between his spread legs, her back to him. She was hugging her knees, her small body trembling slightly, not from cold anymore, but from the sheer intensity of the situation.
"I'm going to start." Rito murmured.
He squeezed a dollop of body soap onto a sponge. He didn't just scrub. He touched her.
His hand, large and warm, slid the soapy sponge over her shoulder, washing away the black ink stain that had been there for hours. He moved slowly, deliberately.
"The ink is coming off." Rito said softly. He dropped the sponge and used his bare hand to rinse the suds away. His fingers lingered on her skin, tracing the line of her shoulder blade. "Your skin is really soft, Mikan."
Mikan's breath hitched. "Rito..."
"It's true." he whispered.
He leaned forward. He pressed a kiss to her wet shoulder.
It wasn't a quick peck. His lips lingered on her wet skin, hot and firm. Mikan gasped, her spine arching involuntarily.
"R-Rito! What are you—"
"Washing you," he said simply, his honest nature shining through the embarrassment. "And... telling you how cute you are."
He moved the showerhead, rinsing her back. Then he leaned in again, kissing the nape of her neck, right at the hairline. He inhaled deeply, taking in her scent even through the soap.
"You're always working so hard," he murmured against her skin, his arm wrapping around her waist from behind to hold her steady. "Cooking. Cleaning. Helping me with the manga. You're amazing, Mikan."
He kissed her ear.
Chu.
Mikan shivered violently. "Onii-chan... stop... that tickles..."
"Does it?" Rito asked, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Or does it feel good?"
He moved his hand to her arm, washing the ink from her fingers. He interlaced his fingers with hers, squeezing her hand tight against her chest. He kissed her cheek. Then her temple.
He was drowning her in affection. He was bombarding her with the physical contact she had been starving for while watching him with the others.
"You were scared I'd leave you," Rito whispered into her ear. "But look. I'm right here. I'm holding you. I'm not letting go."
Mikan's resistance crumbled. The anger, the jealousy, the fear, it all melted away under the heat of the water and the overwhelming pressure of his love.
She leaned back against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. The scent of him, the musk that the hot water was amplifying, filled her nose. It was addictive. It made her head spin.
"You're... unfair," she whispered, her voice thick. "Treating me like a baby... and a girl... at the same time."
"I'm treating you like Mikan," Rito corrected. "My Mikan."
He turned off the shower.
"You're clean," he said. "Let's soak."
He stood up and stepped into the deep bathtub. The water level rose. He sat down, the hot water lapping at his chest.
"Come here."
Mikan hesitated for only a second. Then, she stepped into the tub. She didn't sit across from him. Guided by his hands, she sat down between his legs, settling back against his chest, just like she had on the swivel chair, but this time, there were no clothes to separate them.
The water was hot. His body was hotter.
And as she settled, she felt it.
Rito's physiology had reacted to the washing, the kissing, and the scent of her. He was fully, rock-hard erect underwater.
The 9-inch reality of him pressed firmly against her lower back, nestling between her buttocks in the buoyancy of the water.
Mikan froze, her eyes widening as she stared at the rippling water.
"Rito..." she breathed. "You're... big again."
…
"Rito..." she breathed, staring down through the clear, rippling water. "You're... big again."
Rito didn't pull away. He didn't apologize. He simply wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest so she could feel every inch of the reaction she had caused. The hard ridge of him pressed firmly against her lower back, nestling between the soft curve of her buttocks, unyielding and heavy in the buoyancy of the water.
"I told you," Rito murmured, his lips brushing the wet hair at her temple. "It's because of you. Washing you... touching your skin... holding you like this. My body knows who you are, Mikan. It knows you're important."
Mikan's heart hammered against her ribs. The heat of the bathwater seemed to spike, or maybe it was just her own blood boiling.
She looked down. In the water, the refraction made him look even larger, a pale, vein-wrapped monolith swaying gently with the currents of the tub, eager and waiting.
Her hand twitched in the water. She wanted to know. She wanted to verify the "monster" she had only glimpsed through fabric or under sheets or from far away, the source of all the wet noises she had heard through the door that day with Haruna.
Rito saw her gaze. He saw the hesitation in her fingers.
"You can touch it," he whispered, his voice husky and permissive.
Mikan froze. "W-What? But... I'm your sister."
"You're the girl I'm holding," Rito countered softly. He moved one of his hands from her waist, sliding it down her arm until his fingers interlaced with hers underwater. He guided her hand backward, toward his lap. "If you're curious... if you want to... it's okay. Because it's us."
Mikan let him guide her. Her fingers brushed against the thick base of his shaft.
It was hot. Hotter than the bathwater. And it was hard as stone, yet the skin was impossibly smooth, slick with the water.
Rito let go of her hand, giving her control.
Mikan's fingers curled. She wrapped her small hand around the thickest part of him. She couldn't even close her fingers all the way; the girth was too much.
"So... thick..." she whispered, her eyes widening as she squeezed.
"Nnngh!" Rito threw his head back against the tiled wall, a ragged breath escaping him. "Mikan..."
His mind was reeling. This was wrong. Every societal rule, every lesson he'd ever learned, screamed that this was forbidden. She was Mikan. His little sister. The girl he used to push on the swings.
But as her small hand began to move, sliding up the length of his shaft, that very taboo became the fuel for a blinding, white-hot arousal. The immorality of it, the sheer, reckless secret of having his sister jerk him off in their childhood bathtub, didn't make him want to stop. It made him harder than he had ever been in his life. It felt filthy, and intimate, and impossibly right.
'She's touching me,' Rito thought, his brain short-circuiting with pleasure. 'Mikan is touching me. And she likes it.'
Emboldened by his reaction, Mikan began to find a rhythm. The water acted as a perfect lubricant, eliminating all friction. She slid her hand up the long, curved shaft, tracing the heavy veins that pulsed like cords under her touch. She reached the head, flared and sensitive, and rubbed her thumb over the slit.
Rito shuddered, his hips jerking forward in the water, pressing himself deeper into her hand.
"Does it... feel good?" Mikan asked, her voice trembling with a mix of shyness and a dark, possessive thrill.
"Too good," Rito groaned, forcing his eyes open to look at her. He leaned forward, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He began to kiss the sensitive cord of muscle there, sucking gently on her wet skin. "You're killing me, Mikan. You're so good at this... it feels incredible because it's you."
The praise went straight to her head. She didn't stop. She stroked him, finding a rhythm. Up... down... twist. She explored the texture of him, marveling at how he twitched and surged in her grip.
Her other hand, free and curious, drifted lower. She cupped him from below, feeling the heavy weight of his testicles resting against his thighs. Even underwater, they felt dense and full. She rolled them gently in her palm.
'So, this is what she was doing,' Mikan thought, remembering the wet, slurping sounds she had heard through Rito's door when Haruna was there. 'She was playing with these... making him feel good like this.'
A spike of jealousy hit her, but it was quickly replaced by triumph. Haruna might have done it first, but she was doing it now. In their bath.
"Onii-chan," she whispered, leaning back against him, letting her head rest on his shoulder while her hands worked him underwater. "You're so... full. Is it always like this?"
"Only for you," Rito whispered, and in that moment, enveloped in her scent, her touch, and the overwhelming heat of the forbidden act, it felt like the absolute truth. "Right now, it's only for you."
The scent of his arousal, that addictive, musky pheromone, rose from the water, mixing with the steam. Mikan inhaled it greedily, her head spinning. She stroked faster, feeling the pressure build in the shaft she held. She realized, with a jolt of clarity, that this was something the others didn't get to do. Lala and Run might have seals, they might be "wives", but Mikan was here, naked in the bath, getting washed by him, holding him, controlling him.
"You're mine right now," she whispered, squeezing the head. "Just mine."
"Yeah," Rito breathed, kissing her wet ear, his arms locking her in a protective embrace. "Just yours."
They stayed like that until the water began to cool, bound together by the heat, the scent, and the secret that they had finally, irrevocably, crossed the line.
*****
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