Chapter Text
Cain Heel's half-hidden face slowly turned towards the shop at his side, and soon the rest of him followed in its direction. There was nothing particularly interesting about the store. Its windows were dark and only a faint shimmer of light glistened from underneath the door. Insignificant words, in glaring white letters, were etched across it. It was the small advertisement stuck in the corner like a postcard that had caught his attention.
A sigh of exasperation tickled his ears, and he tucked his hands sulkily into his coat pockets.
His little sister—his beautiful, stunning, and all things wonderful, little sister—marched onward several steps in what he knew was a desperate hope that he would eventually pick up after her again. But, catching onto his pouting without even turning to look at him yet, she paused roughly twelve paces away and sighed airily again. She tilted her head back to glance at him over her shoulder, and the silver chain dangling from her lip to her ear swayed hypnotically with the motion. Her heeled boots clacked against concrete as she turned to fully face him.
She was decked in tiny chain links, and each chimed like tiny bells every time she moved. Even in his mind's eye, he could see her cocking out a hip just so and laying her hand over the hem of her dangerously short shorts, the very tip of her painted thumbnail dipping under the belt in a way that was so uniquely hes. "Nii-san," she crowed from her place, half-pleading, "You are going to make us late."
Through experience (and intuition), Cain knew without having to look that the scum of society were slowly creeping out of the very woodwork to get a good look at her.
His sister's white-blond hair and silvery blue eyes already set her apart, and the daring outfits she wore only served to emphasize her figure. She was beautiful, and she damn well knew it too. She prowled, rather than walked, everywhere she went on light feet, and she draped herself in silver chains like a present to be unwrapped. Most of the time, she exposed more of her body than was covered.
Often, she had so many heads turning he was absolutely positive that she was the cause of more than one car accident. That one time, the guy's head had been turned nearly a hundred degrees like a rubberneck.
But Cain never discouraged her.
He knew she could handle herself just fine. Sure, he had made her into a bit of a spoiled princess, but she was his and it was his prerogative to keep her happy. If she wanted to flaunt herself on his arm, who was he to deny her that? Besides, it was something of a sick pleasure. Somewhat like holding food just out of a starving man's reach, or dangling bait before a wolf only for them to discover they were separated by a thick pane of glass.
These creeps could eyeball her all day, but she would never even glance their way. She could have stolen any heart she so chose but had settled for the one that was already hers to begin with. His baby sister was everything she was—so beautiful, so ruthless, so brilliant, so unmatched—for him alone. So they could look, but she would only ever have eyes for him. She was unattainable, for he filled up every vacant space within her heart and even her mind—there was nothing in this world that could change that.
However, that did not mean he was pleased with filth eyeing his little (not so little anymore as the case may be) girl like a piece of meat.
With that in mind, Cain tore his gaze from the object of his attention and turned a vivid, murderous glare on all the riffraff creeping into what he had long since established her protective bubble. It was a most effective deterrent, had every last rat scampering for cover under his watchful eye. Even those not aware, or even afflicted, to the glance were rushing across streets and into buildings to get away from his oppressive aura.
Shifting his dark gaze to hers, he shook aside his bangs and sent her a single, pleading look. It was nothing immediately criminal, but she no doubt recognized the unholy gleam in his eyes and immediately shook her head. She then lifted an artful brow when the line of his mouth shortened into something half-resembling a pout, and she laughed a little.
"Nii-san," she started in a tone meant to be firm was sounded far too defeated for her liking, "I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Your body is no longer yours alone."
He turned so his shoes pointed towards her instead, and his expression softened further with desire, but she did not waver.
"Absolutely not," she shook her head and raised her chin in defiance, "You are an actor now, nii-san, and you know the fuss they made about the other one."
The one we share, went unspoken.
Cain frowned. They were cut of a similar cloth, and he knew she could stick her ground just as fastidious as he. He took a purposeful step towards her and opened his arms, eyes widening just a touch behind his hair.
She turned her face up and away, crossing her arms with a huff, "Youa re too old to be acting like a spoilt child."'
He closed the distance between them in three large steps and sealed his arms around her waist, just underneath her own. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he nuzzled her throat with his cheek and nose and lifted his head to hum her name, "Setsu."
Choking on her words, Setsuka trembled in his hold and her hands dropped to grasp his forearms. Still, she shook her head, though frantically this time, and pursed her lips shut, "You cannot have visible markings, nii-san."
He squeezed her around the middle and let his larger frame drape over her back like a heavy cloak. "They have makeup and whatnot for that," he said plaintively into her ear then rubbed his head against the top of hers, "Setsu."
She knew how well he liked the concealers—about as much as little girls liked mudpies—and sighed at him. They both knew she was going to cave, there was very little she could deny her brother after all, but she gave one more token refusal and shook her head.
"I'll let you get another piercing," Cain offered in a slightly deeper tone, dropping all hints of whining, and pulled her snugger against his chest. His hold almost lifted her off the ground altogether.
That made her pause, whatever other denial she had prepared promptly dying on the tip of her tongue, and she turned her head up and to the side to catch his eye. That was one of the last things she had expected to hear from her brother's mouth. She had done the first round without letting anyone know, and had had to fight tooth and nail to get the rest. Humming thoughtfully, she asked, "You really want one?"
He nodded quickly and rose to his full height, letting her fall back to the ground so she could turn to face him.
"You. . ." she trailed off, eyes narrowing at his face, then continued in a softer voice, "You would let me draw it?"
His eyes widened slightly, then similarly narrowed, and he nodded at her without hesitation.
She hummed again and lifted her arms to loosely clasp her fingers behind his neck. His hands reached around to splay flat against the curve of her lower back, and she curiously looked up into his eyes. Like so, she admired her brother's handsome face and titled her head to the side. "You would let me even tattoo my name."
Cain bent to press his forehead against hers and solemnly swore, "Proudly."
"Then we will pick up a kit on the way home," she said, smirking at him, "But, only if we are not late."
Before she could blink, her brother dropped all contact with her except for a gloved hand around her delicate wrist, and he was marching purposely past her towards their next appointment. His determination now geared to ensure they arrived on time, and he was so focused on said goal that he almost did not hear her calling for him.
"Nii-san!" Setsuka finally snapped and twisted her arm so her hand slid into his palm. Yanking back on his hold, she glowered, "I am too short for you."
Finding her breathless and heaving to keep up with his longer stride, he winced and pulled her to him. He brushed his nose against her temple and murmured a word of apology against her skin. She was perfect, and there should be no doubt in her mind about that.
She shook her head with a calming croon and slid a hand under his coat to hook her fingers in his back pocket. Slipping all the closer to her side, she smiled up at him from her place halfway under his jacket, and he led them onward.
Cain glanced down at his little sister, casting an appraising eye over her long white lashes and the glossy pink of her parted mouth, and rubbed his thumb against her hip. She claimed red lipstick made her look like a common slut, and he silently agreed, but then again, pink suited her better anyway.
Their footsteps rang in his ears for several paces, and he sometimes wondered what it would be like to chain her to him and never let her go. For all that he did not mind people looking, some liked to get the misconception that looking meant they could touch and their attempts at getting too close infuriated him. She was precious and pure, even in her corruption, and she was his light in the dark. He was far too selfish to relinquish her, even as much as he feared his darkness would overwhelm her.
“Neh, nii-san?” Setsuka broke his increasingly darkening thoughts with a purr, “have you decided on that offer?”
Immediately, he thought back to the unusual request he had received through his branch agency. He said branch because it was technically an affiliate and lesser branch of a larger agency out of Japan. The job required he move overseas for nearly half a year to film a movie, “Iie.”
“Aw,” she pouted up at him, her pink mouth curling into a frown, “It would be fun.”
Cain rolled his eyes behind his curtain of hair. She was one of the smartest people he knew—eighteen and already certified as a manager—yet she fooled the entire world into thinking her an airheaded bimbo with that pout of hers. He wondered just who was the actor between the two of them. “Ja, fun.”
The infliction of his voice told her precisely what he thought of that, and this time she was the one to roll her eyes. “So sarcastic, nii-san,” Setsuka bumped her head against his shoulder, “It would be fun watching you trump their best at their own game.”
Cain shrugged loosely, conceding to the possibility but reserving his thoughts until he came to a more conclusive standpoint. She allowed him that, and the rest of their walk to the studio was made in harmonious silence.
Still, the thought of a new battlefield made the wings on their shoulders burn.
Setsuka Heel, "Setsu" to only her brother and no one else, gazed down at her hands with glazed eyes, and she carefully inhaled to restrain herself. Spreading her fingers out over Cain's broad back, she marveled at her own obtuseness. Sometimes, she could forget that he was a man, could pretend he was just her brother and nothing more. But now, with the muscles at her fingertips vibrating with tension and slick with sweat, she could not lie to herself.
He was not just taller than her, he was bigger. Bigger in all sense of the word. His hands could easily wrap around her throat. His arms could encircle her waist twice if hse ignored the logistics of bone structure. He was slender, but his flesh a muscular armor, and it bore no fatty cracks. His back was broader and stronger, and his shoulders wider. His body was proportionate and perfect.
Standing behind him, hands pressed to either side of his spine, she trembled under the weight of their chemistry and smiled where he could not see it. Curling her fingers inward, she raked her fingernails up to his shoulders, standing on the tips of her toes to do so, and back down to his hips again. She slid her hands around to the sides of his waistline and curled her fingers again, leaving white crescent marks in his flesh, like four tiny moons hanging on either side of his torso.
A silent shudder ran through him, and she knew they were on the border of another breakthrough.
His arms were stretched out above his head, so high she needed a ladder just to get to them, and his wrists bound by a rope looped through a hook in the ceiling. His feet were suspended a few inches off the floor, and she had left him exactly so for the entire hour and a half it took to go grocery shopping and cook them dinner. Now, the strain in his arms was so great he shook minutely every so often, and his skin was hot with perspiration and flushed from the effort of hanging by his wrists.
God, did she just love stretching out his long body and mapping out the entirety of his musculature into her mind.
Her brother was a genius all his own. There was nothing he could not do. Setsuka knew he preferred using his body than his head, but if he had chosen the same path she had, he would have finished sooner. He had the right physique for modeling, and his face was picture perfect (when he swept aside his overhanging bangs that is). He did not whine, he gave his all, and he did not make mistakes. He refused to communicate, except through her, and he avoided socialization like it were a disease, and he never left her side.
Ironically, most actors fought against being type-casted. Most had to work at branching out from their genres to make a mark on the world.
Cain did not. He never had to wait for a job offer, and he only ever accepted the roles almost no one else would touch with a ten foot pole. He played everything from the serial killer to the dictator, the devil incarnate and the evil mastermind, he played bloodthirsty vampires and flesh-hungered werewolves. And he played them all so masterfully, and without error, that most found it difficult to differentiate between the character and the actor.
But Setsuka knew her brother inside and out. She knew his conscience was a vibrant and thirsty thing, guilt chugged down like a drug. He took on every job like it were a punishment, and he grieved for every character he slaughtered. She knew how his mind worked, and she loved him all the more for it. He always said that she was his savior, that she was his light in the dark, the beacon that brought him home. But for her, it was more astute to say she needed him.
He was everything to her. The stars to the night sky, the dusk to dawn, the very air she breathed—he was to her.
"Nii-san," she crooned as she pressed her chest against his back, pressing her nose against his hairline just behind his ear, her lips brushing the lobe, "You're still having trouble with kanji. Translate for me, and I'll let you down."
From a bowl beside her, she lifted an ice cube and twirled it to the tips of her fingers. Pressing it between his shoulder blades, she watched his muscles contort deliciously, rocking his entire body forward in an attempt to get away from it, and dragged it diagonally downward. His evasion wrenched on his hands and she laughed softly at the gasping shudder her released. It became too much for him to try to avoid each stroke she made, and he hung limp as she traced an engorged character onto his back.
"Ka-Kagami," her brother bit out through clenched teeth, and the hitch in his voice when she dragged a nail down one of the chilled lines only made her smile wider, "Mirror."
Leaning forward, she chased the cold traces of the word with her tongue. Each stroke she had written, now soothed with the flat of her hot mouth. When the gooseflesh the ice had evoked finally settled, she grabbed a towel and gently wiped down his back. There was nothing better than his quiet surrender, his depth of trust for her, and she wanted the same for him.
So grasping another ice cube between her slightly numbed fingers, she began to draw again. Ai. Love. He recited back to her as he recognized the marks, and she continued on to the third. When nothing came after it, even when she had finished and waited a minute, she looked up to see his jaw tense while he searched his brain for the translation. "Mah, mah, nii-san. Kusari, chains." She laughed at the violent twitching of his muscles for that, and began to write on his flesh again.
“Tamashī, soul.”
The gap between finishing and his verbalization told her he was losing himself to the rough handling, and she smiled as she wiped him down for the last time. "Alright, nii-san, you did well." Tossing the pin back into the bowl, she pressed her hands against his cold back and smiled, "Now to let you down. Blindfold first?"
He nodded, silent once more, and she reached up over her head to skillfully untie the knot. It was loose, a single tug of her finger having undone it, and the thin fabric fell dramatically to the floor. She looked up into his face, and he slowly opened his eyes to peer unseeingly down at her. Smiling, she climbed onto the bed and slit the ropes holding his hands in place.
He collapsed to the ground without a word, the air punched from his lungs with a whoosh, and she dropped to knell beside him. Grapping a package of bandages and an ointment for bruises, she grabbed his boneless arms by the forearm and scooted all the closer. Eventually, she twisted and settled between his spread legs, drawing his chaffing wrists into her lap. She had finished wrapping one, and was in the middle of rubbing the cream into his other, when he suddenly wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. "Setsu."
She smiled, wrestling back his unfinished hand to quickly wrap it up, then she settled back, leaning into his chest. "Yeah?"
"I love you."
Her heart thunked heavily against her rib cage, and she lifted her arm to press her hand against the back of his head, drawing his face down to her throat. "I love you too, nii-san," she hummed against his cheek, "I'm glad you're back."
Cain nodded, pulling her in closer by crossing his legs at the ankles.
"You're sure you want one?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. Tomorrow."
The wing on her shoulder was pressed against his chest, the one on his own back searing hotter than ever.