Stepsister
I'm always super cautious about starting a new multi-chapter story, but I have a good feeling about this one.
Title: Stepsister
Rating: PG-13/R-ish for heavy drug use and kissing between step-siblings if that squicks you.
Genre: Romance/General.
Summary: Aric's almost nonexistent relationship with his stepsister takes a sharp turn when she stumbles in way too drunk and high one night.
"You're late."
Aric paused in the middle of silently entering the house, looking at his dad sitting on the couch with his new wife. His face was stern and Aric mumbled a "sorry" before letting the door creak as it closed and hastily escaping to the kitchen. He could hear his stepmother kissing his dad, a quiet praise for finally being strict with his son. Aric rolled his eyes as he took a soda out of the fridge; if his dad had truly been strict with him he would not be coming home past midnight.
A loud noise broke the cozy atmosphere of the suburban home as the door was opened and slammed shut. Aric heard his parents yelping in surprise as he looked up curiously from his drink. He saw his stepsister clutching the door handle for support, her blonde hair messy and disheveled, still wearing her school uniform from earlier that day. Her eyes were half-lidded and glazed over and Aric cringed when he heard her mother and his father immediately standing up and stomping their way over to her.
"Young lady! It is well after your curfew! Where have you been?"
Aric snorted. 12:30 in the morning was early for her.
Erika didn't answer her parents. Instead, she giggled and tried to let go of the door handle to leave, but stumbled. Aric's father grabbed her wrists just before she fell, and she shrieked before jerking out of his grasp. "Ew, don't touch me. You're wife's right there."
Everyone's eyes widened at her slurred voice. Her words were almost unintelligible, and Aric flinched as he heard his stepmother begin to yell at her daughter at the top of her lungs. He quickly left his cup on the kitchen table and escaped up the staircase. The screaming could still be heard from upstairs, even when Aric closed his bedroom door behind him. He plopped down on his bed, sleepy, and felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.
hey dude. wanna chill tomorrow? and did you take my smokes by any chance?
Aric cocked an eyebrow and typed a response to the text message; yeah sure. and no i didn't. i got my own pack. stop losing your cigarettes. He felt around in his hoodie for the box of Marlboros and pulled one out. He struck a match and lit up the cigarette, the smoke drifting up to the ceiling. He walked over to the other side of the room and opened the window, exhaling ghosts of blue smoke into the night. He could still hear his dad and stepmother fighting with Erika and instantly felt bad for the girl; He knew what it felt like to be the "bad" kid, although, he had to admit, he was much better at stumbling into the house drunk without any noticing than she seemed to be. This fighting repeated itself every single weekend, and would even on school nights if it wasn't for his stepmother's working hours.
Aric blew out a final gust of smoke before putting out the cigarette on the window sill. His mouth felt dry and he opened his bedroom door and walked across the hall to the bathroom. He filled a cup with water and drank it in one gulp. He took another, smaller drink, and left the cup on the sink. He looked into the mirror and fixed his dirty-blonde mohawk. He unzipped his hoodie, exposing the tattoos on his neck that his dad told him to hide from his new stepmother. He could hear the shouting grow even louder and he groaned, suspecting that the fight was moving upstairs. He quickly left the bathroom and was halfway back to his room when he saw Erika at the top of the staircase, alone.
Her disheveled blonde hair nearly covered her face, and she was rubbing at her sleepy blue eyes, a faint bruise coloring under the bottom lid, physical proof of her late nights. Despite her currently careless appearance, Aric couldn't help but notice why all the guys at school talked about her. When she wasn't drunk or high, her eyes were big and bright and almond-shaped, so similar to his that some people mistook them for biological siblings, but hers never looked at anyone, as though she truly believed that she was above everyone else. And some people may argue that was, indeed, better than everyone, with her 3.5 GPA and big house and physical attractiveness. Yet, Aric knew that those people who heard the rumors and saw her sitting at lunch with the druggies didn't know the ugly side of his cokewhore stepsister.
The siblings stared at each other for a moment. Erika hesitantly let go of the handrail and took a cautious step forward. She lost her footing and tumbled to the floor.
"Hey..." Aric said, taking pity on her and walking forward to help her. He lifted her up by her shoulders and looked sympathetically at the stepsister he had been living with for months, yet hardly talked to. "You're not gonna puke are you?" he asked her. He looked at her eyes closing and her head rolling onto her shoulder and sighed, knowing she couldn't hear him. He let go of her and she jolted awake, nearly falling again. The raised voices of their parents could be heard in the background, fighting yet again over their rouge daughter. Aric spoke slowly, hoping she would understand him. "I'm going to bring you to your room, okay?" he said. He wanted to ask her if she had been drinking so he could leave her a wastebasket to puke in. He felt vaguely worried that she would choke on her own vomit and die during the night. He had seen that happen before.
She nodded slightly, which made Aric exhale a little in relief that she wasn't completely out of her mind. He held her underneath her shoulder and led her to her room at the end of the hall, half dragging her. He opened the door and felt around for the light switch, but grew impatient and walked into the darkness. He led her to her bed and let her plop down on it. Aric realized he had never been in her room before as the scent of weed and something else he couldn't recognize filled his nose. He found her wastebasket and set it down next to her bed. He looked at her sitting on the bed and watched her cringe at the sound of her parents screaming.
Aric felt sorry for her. "They'll stop eventually..." he said, nodding toward the hallway. "They always do. Not that you'd be conscious enough to ever hear it."
He didn't hear anything all of a sudden. The shouting had stopped and he didn't hear Erika answer him or even breathe. He could hardly see her in the darkness and sat down on the bed next to her, mumbling, "You okay?"
"Mhm..." he finally heard.
He nodded and made to stand up when he felt two tiny hands on his arms. He looked curiously back at his stepsister and he was surprised when he felt her breath on him. She smelled like smoke and alcohol and a party; a familiar smell. Aric's eyes widened when she pressed her lips to his, and he could taste the fruity rum on her plump lips. He couldn't feel her anywhere else except on his arms and on his lips and he let himself be kissed for a moment before pulling away.
"I'm your brother," he said quietly, feeling the silence of the room close over him like a fist.
"Stepbrother," she replied.
Her voice was hoarse but soft and sweet and Aric shivered as she climbed into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. He was lost in the moment and let her kiss him again. Their gentle lips moved against each other and Aric couldn't help but put his hands on her waist, reacting to the familiar embrace of countless kisses before this one. The kiss became heated and Aric pushed his body against hers, hearing her mewl in approval, and it wasn't until he almost had her against the bed that he stopped. He sprang up from the bed and backed away. He heard her unintelligible protests and mumbled a "sorry" before hastily leaving the room and closing the door behind him. He stood there for a moment, heart racing, until he opened the door a sliver to see her already fast asleep on the bed. He sighed and hurried back to his room, and couldn't help but remember the track marks on her wrists and cursing them out loud as he pulled the bedsheets over him and tried to go to sleep.
Title: Stepsister
Rating: PG-13/R-ish for heavy drug use and kissing between step-siblings if that squicks you.
Genre: Romance/General.
Summary: Aric's almost nonexistent relationship with his stepsister takes a sharp turn when she stumbles in way too drunk and high one night.
"You're late."
Aric paused in the middle of silently entering the house, looking at his dad sitting on the couch with his new wife. His face was stern and Aric mumbled a "sorry" before letting the door creak as it closed and hastily escaping to the kitchen. He could hear his stepmother kissing his dad, a quiet praise for finally being strict with his son. Aric rolled his eyes as he took a soda out of the fridge; if his dad had truly been strict with him he would not be coming home past midnight.
A loud noise broke the cozy atmosphere of the suburban home as the door was opened and slammed shut. Aric heard his parents yelping in surprise as he looked up curiously from his drink. He saw his stepsister clutching the door handle for support, her blonde hair messy and disheveled, still wearing her school uniform from earlier that day. Her eyes were half-lidded and glazed over and Aric cringed when he heard her mother and his father immediately standing up and stomping their way over to her.
"Young lady! It is well after your curfew! Where have you been?"
Aric snorted. 12:30 in the morning was early for her.
Erika didn't answer her parents. Instead, she giggled and tried to let go of the door handle to leave, but stumbled. Aric's father grabbed her wrists just before she fell, and she shrieked before jerking out of his grasp. "Ew, don't touch me. You're wife's right there."
Everyone's eyes widened at her slurred voice. Her words were almost unintelligible, and Aric flinched as he heard his stepmother begin to yell at her daughter at the top of her lungs. He quickly left his cup on the kitchen table and escaped up the staircase. The screaming could still be heard from upstairs, even when Aric closed his bedroom door behind him. He plopped down on his bed, sleepy, and felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.
hey dude. wanna chill tomorrow? and did you take my smokes by any chance?
Aric cocked an eyebrow and typed a response to the text message; yeah sure. and no i didn't. i got my own pack. stop losing your cigarettes. He felt around in his hoodie for the box of Marlboros and pulled one out. He struck a match and lit up the cigarette, the smoke drifting up to the ceiling. He walked over to the other side of the room and opened the window, exhaling ghosts of blue smoke into the night. He could still hear his dad and stepmother fighting with Erika and instantly felt bad for the girl; He knew what it felt like to be the "bad" kid, although, he had to admit, he was much better at stumbling into the house drunk without any noticing than she seemed to be. This fighting repeated itself every single weekend, and would even on school nights if it wasn't for his stepmother's working hours.
Aric blew out a final gust of smoke before putting out the cigarette on the window sill. His mouth felt dry and he opened his bedroom door and walked across the hall to the bathroom. He filled a cup with water and drank it in one gulp. He took another, smaller drink, and left the cup on the sink. He looked into the mirror and fixed his dirty-blonde mohawk. He unzipped his hoodie, exposing the tattoos on his neck that his dad told him to hide from his new stepmother. He could hear the shouting grow even louder and he groaned, suspecting that the fight was moving upstairs. He quickly left the bathroom and was halfway back to his room when he saw Erika at the top of the staircase, alone.
Her disheveled blonde hair nearly covered her face, and she was rubbing at her sleepy blue eyes, a faint bruise coloring under the bottom lid, physical proof of her late nights. Despite her currently careless appearance, Aric couldn't help but notice why all the guys at school talked about her. When she wasn't drunk or high, her eyes were big and bright and almond-shaped, so similar to his that some people mistook them for biological siblings, but hers never looked at anyone, as though she truly believed that she was above everyone else. And some people may argue that was, indeed, better than everyone, with her 3.5 GPA and big house and physical attractiveness. Yet, Aric knew that those people who heard the rumors and saw her sitting at lunch with the druggies didn't know the ugly side of his cokewhore stepsister.
The siblings stared at each other for a moment. Erika hesitantly let go of the handrail and took a cautious step forward. She lost her footing and tumbled to the floor.
"Hey..." Aric said, taking pity on her and walking forward to help her. He lifted her up by her shoulders and looked sympathetically at the stepsister he had been living with for months, yet hardly talked to. "You're not gonna puke are you?" he asked her. He looked at her eyes closing and her head rolling onto her shoulder and sighed, knowing she couldn't hear him. He let go of her and she jolted awake, nearly falling again. The raised voices of their parents could be heard in the background, fighting yet again over their rouge daughter. Aric spoke slowly, hoping she would understand him. "I'm going to bring you to your room, okay?" he said. He wanted to ask her if she had been drinking so he could leave her a wastebasket to puke in. He felt vaguely worried that she would choke on her own vomit and die during the night. He had seen that happen before.
She nodded slightly, which made Aric exhale a little in relief that she wasn't completely out of her mind. He held her underneath her shoulder and led her to her room at the end of the hall, half dragging her. He opened the door and felt around for the light switch, but grew impatient and walked into the darkness. He led her to her bed and let her plop down on it. Aric realized he had never been in her room before as the scent of weed and something else he couldn't recognize filled his nose. He found her wastebasket and set it down next to her bed. He looked at her sitting on the bed and watched her cringe at the sound of her parents screaming.
Aric felt sorry for her. "They'll stop eventually..." he said, nodding toward the hallway. "They always do. Not that you'd be conscious enough to ever hear it."
He didn't hear anything all of a sudden. The shouting had stopped and he didn't hear Erika answer him or even breathe. He could hardly see her in the darkness and sat down on the bed next to her, mumbling, "You okay?"
"Mhm..." he finally heard.
He nodded and made to stand up when he felt two tiny hands on his arms. He looked curiously back at his stepsister and he was surprised when he felt her breath on him. She smelled like smoke and alcohol and a party; a familiar smell. Aric's eyes widened when she pressed her lips to his, and he could taste the fruity rum on her plump lips. He couldn't feel her anywhere else except on his arms and on his lips and he let himself be kissed for a moment before pulling away.
"I'm your brother," he said quietly, feeling the silence of the room close over him like a fist.
"Stepbrother," she replied.
Her voice was hoarse but soft and sweet and Aric shivered as she climbed into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. He was lost in the moment and let her kiss him again. Their gentle lips moved against each other and Aric couldn't help but put his hands on her waist, reacting to the familiar embrace of countless kisses before this one. The kiss became heated and Aric pushed his body against hers, hearing her mewl in approval, and it wasn't until he almost had her against the bed that he stopped. He sprang up from the bed and backed away. He heard her unintelligible protests and mumbled a "sorry" before hastily leaving the room and closing the door behind him. He stood there for a moment, heart racing, until he opened the door a sliver to see her already fast asleep on the bed. He sighed and hurried back to his room, and couldn't help but remember the track marks on her wrists and cursing them out loud as he pulled the bedsheets over him and tried to go to sleep.