Work Text:
The coffee Tama made tasted weird.
Aiba couldn’t tell if it was too weak or too strong, or if Tama had added sugar or cream when Aiba had asked for it black—but it tasted weird. Tama had offered to make it for her since Aiba was so hyper-focused on her dissertation and didn’t want to risk the distraction of going into the kitchen, but the odd flavor sort of made her regret it.
Still glued to her computer, Aiba waited for Tama to come back in her room (which she wasn’t supposed to be doing, by the way) before she said, without looking away from her document, “This coffee isn’t good.”
“Huh?!” Aiba was sure Tama’s face was all twisted up, but unfortunately for her, her tantrums only worked on her boyfriend. Aiba didn’t really care if she was mad. “It’s instant coffee. I put some water and the stupid little cup in the stupid little machine and made it the same way you make it. Maybe all the sleep you haven’t been getting has fried your taste buds.”
“Or, maybe it’s not good coffee...either way, you’re relieved from your coffee-making duties.”
“Well, sorry for trying to do something nice for my big sister.” Aiba stopped typing, then actually looked up at Tama. Tama had her arms folded across her chest, and contrary to Aiba’s expectations, she wasn’t wearing her typical look of enraged disgust. She was pouting. She actually seemed...kind of sad. “It’s so depressing to come back from shoots just to see you hunched over your computer, click-clacking away without a care in the world. You’re an awful big sister, you know.”
“I’ve been working on this for a year and a half, Tama, and it’s almost over. You’ll have your sister back soon enough,” Aiba said, gentler than usual. Tama was childish, at times irritating, but she was more emotional than most, and Aiba didn’t want to hurt her feelings—that was her little sister, after all. “If it really makes you happy, then you can keep making me coffee.”
“Now I don’t want to.”
...Tama made it really hard for Aiba to be patient. “Then, don’t.”
“Clearly you need it, so I’ll just keep making it. Thank me later,” Tama said, then spun on her heel and walked out.
She didn’t close the door behind her. Aiba sighed through her nose.
The next day, Tama barged into Aiba’s room in a maid outfit that was clearly made to show off her tits. Aiba spared her a glance for once, but immediately turned back to the feedback that her last round of revisions had elicited. Still, she remarked, “I’m guessing that’s from a shoot. Sometimes I don’t know if you’re a model or a pornstar.”
“Whatever pays the rent.” Tama set down a mug of coffee, then curtsied. “Today I’m serving my special blend, master.”
“Special—” Aiba didn’t even have the energy to get mad. Stress had only allowed her to sleep for four hours combined in the past two days. “Tama. I want black coffee. Nothing in it. The exact coffee that is in the cabinet.”
“That’s why you’re so bitter and uptight. Your paper is going to be boring if you keep drinking that garbage.”
“My paper is already boring to you.”
“Not entirely. Isn’t it about maggots and corpses and how reliable it is, or something? I’ve heard about that on a podcast.” Well, at least she remembered the topic. “Anyway, just drink the coffee. It’s not that bad. I don’t even like coffee, and I liked the sip I took.”
Just try it so she can leave, Aiba’s inner monologue said, and she picked up the mug, bracing herself to gag, but...
It wasn’t that bad.
It was the same flavor as the day before, but amplified, which of course meant that Tama had tampered with the last mug she made...it was nice, though. Sweet, a little nutty. Aiba was no aficionado, so she couldn’t nail down how Tama had made it, but it was drinkable. More than drinkable, actually. It was good.
As much as it pained her to admit, she said, “This tastes good.”
“See?! I told you! Trust me, with this, you’re going to write a dissertation so good, all of the big-wigs are going to cream their pants.”
“That’s...not what I’m going for, but sure.” Aiba felt relaxed. The drink was warm, had such a happy note to it that it might have reminded her why she was doing what she was doing. She liked her research. This was something she was passionate about, not a burden. She thought back to her conversation with her sister yesterday, and wondered if that tunnel vision had made her neglect other things that she’d found important, too. “Thank you, Tama. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime, nee-chan!” Aiba flushed at the nickname. Tama rarely called her that anymore, but it took her to a happier place. “Alright, I have to go get changed. Ryuuki-kun is taking me out to dinner.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Same as always,” Tama deadpanned. Aiba didn’t have to ask for elaboration. She’d met Ryuuki a few times, and he was a nice guy, but he very obviously had a few issues. “Between you and me, though, I think I might break things off soon. Maybe tonight, depending on the mood.”
Aiba’s eyes widened. She didn’t have time for gossip, and yet Tama had a way of roping her into things. “What? Why?”
“His mind is elsewhere. By elsewhere, I mean with Date.”
“Oh...oh.” Aiba sat back in her chair, thinking. She had been friends with Date for a while—in fact, Tama had met Ryuuki through him. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t noticed a little something between them, but Date had always either denied it or made jokes about it. “Sorry. That’s...”
“No need to be sorry. To be honest, it’s sort of a weight off my chest. Date can be his new therapist, for all I care,” Tama said, but it was light-hearted. Aiba could tell she wasn’t upset. “Besides, I’ve got my eye on someone else.”
Again, no time for gossip, but... “Anyone I know?”
“We’ll talk about it after you finish your dissertation.” Tama winked, and Aiba began to wonder who exactly it could have been. Tama’s standards were hard to nail down. “The rest of the pot is out in the kitchen. It’s all yours.”
“Oh, right.” Aiba took another sip, then nodded. “Excellent. Thank you, Tama. Have fun, or good luck. Whichever.”
“Mm-hm.”
Tama slid out. That time she closed the door.
The clock struck midnight, and Aiba couldn’t focus.
She’d drank the entire pot of coffee, and it made her alert, energized, but her mind kept drifting away from her feedback, her sources, the entirety of her paper. She knew she liked this topic, and she knew almost everything there was to know about it, even outside of the scope of her research—but she couldn’t focus. She wondered if it was the lack of sleep catching up to her, but she didn’t feel drowsy at all. She felt warm, like she was buzzing, and a little on edge.
She felt...kinda horny.
That was rare for her. Sure, she experienced arousal like most other human beings, but she never really experienced getting turned on out of the blue. “Maybe it’s the maggots,” she said aloud to herself, then chuckled. “Not unheard of...”
Aiba looked at the clock. Twelve-fifteen. Tama probably hadn’t broken up with Ryuuki that night. It had been three hours since she’d left, and she still wasn’t home—she was probably at Ryuuki’s apartment. Aiba had wondered if she really had the guts to do it, and it seems she didn’t...and that would mean Aiba would be alone all night.
Logically, there was an easy solution to her current predicament, albeit an inconvenient one.
If her body was saying it wasn’t being taken care of, then she had to take care of it. She opened her desk drawer, and pulled out a box that was shoved all the way to the back: a vibrating wand that she hadn’t used in eons. To her surprise, the batteries that were stowed with it still worked, and it hummed satisfyingly in her hand.
Aiba spread her legs, thankful that her desk chair was plastic and would be easy to clean if she made a mess. It had been a while, but she knew that it wouldn’t take long for her to get off—then she just had to take a shower, and she could work until three or four in the morning and get some rest.
But, fuck, she had forgotten how good it felt to masturbate.
Must be the stress, she thought, a little giddy. She was holding the wand to her clit through her panties, and that was enough to make her body jolt. She had no interest in ruining a pair of underwear, but she was quite sure she could cum like that. Aiba shut her eyes, rolled her head back, and let her mind wander. She didn’t really think about anything when she masturbated, usually, but she immediately thought of...Tama.
She flinched, but didn’t switch the toy off. She wasn’t sure why she thought of her at that particular moment. Maybe it was because Aiba could hear Tama sometimes, if she really trained her ears—not like she was doing that, of course, but...
Wait, why was she still thinking about Tama?
Aiba felt weird. She felt weird, but not bad-weird. She clawed for a word to describe it, but came up empty. She just felt good-weird. It became harder to breathe, and the good-weird got more intense, until she was gripping the arm of her chair and her hips were shaking and she was thinking about how Tama sounded when she was—
“Nee-cha—oh.”
Aiba pulled the toy away from her, then turned to the door.
Tama was standing there, wearing an expression so smug that Aiba thought she was going to be sick.
“Whoopsy-daisy,” Tama sang. “You should’ve locked your door.”
“Wh—get out!”
“Okay, okay, I’m going! But, um—I’ll play some music, so you can keep going if you want. G’night.”
Tama closed the door, and Aiba sat, stunned into silence, listening to her footsteps get farther away. Then, she heard trashy hyper-pop music drifting down the hall.
I’m not going to just keep going, Aiba thought. But, curiously, she didn’t move to get up and shower, or clean her toy and put it away, or...anything. She was—
She was considering it.
She was right there when Tama walked in. So close that she didn’t even notice Tama entering. It would only take a few seconds. And, yeah, it was weird that Tama would know, but her cleaning up and denying herself the pleasure wouldn’t...fix anything.
“This is horrible,” Aiba grumbled, then switched the toy back on.
Aiba went straight to sleep after her shower, deciding that she just needed to sleep off whatever had happened the night before. When she woke up, later than usual, she smelled coffee—Tama’s special blend.
She shuffled out into the kitchen, and saw Tama lounging in the living room, watching American reality TV. “Good morning, onee-chan.”
The epithet made Aiba feel bright and warm. “Good morning. Thanks for the coffee.”
“It’s the least I can do. Hey, come watch TV for a bit before you get sucked into work.”
Well...she was still groggy. She could take some time to warm up. “Alright.”
Aiba toasted a bagel, poured some coffee, and sat down with Tama. The coffee tasted even better than the night before. The show was kinda stupid. Aiba had seen Tama watching it since the first season. It was about some mid-twenties model types living on an island together. Aiba didn’t get the point, but some of it was funny. Tama told her about all the characters, and the show started to make a little more sense. Tama’s modeling career was really taking off; Aiba wondered if she’d ever go on a show like that if she got popular enough.
They watched a few episodes, and Aiba found herself getting more invested in it than she’d expected; a few hours passed before she realized that she had things to do. Just as Aiba was about to get up and get started on that day’s revisions, Tama said, “How’d you make out last night?”
“Huh?”
“After I left your room and turned the music on?”
Aiba felt embarrassed. She didn’t know why she’d done that. She should’ve went to bed, but... “It went fine, I guess...let’s not talk about this.”
“Eh? Why not?”
“It’s weird. We’re sisters. Sisters don’t...”
“Oh, c’mon. I saw you doing it. I’m sure you know I do it. What’s the point of avoiding something that we both know is happening? We talk about everything else.”
Aiba was sure she had an argument lined up for that, but her head was in the clouds. She was still waking up, probably. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she said, simply.
“Au contraire. I was actually pretty surprised to see you used a toy,” Tama said, turning her whole body to face Aiba. Aiba looked at the screen, and saw two of the characters making out in a hot tub. She looked down at her now-empty mug instead. “I thought you’d be a DIY type of girl.”
“Tama,” Aiba groaned, unsure of where Tama was going or how to respond.
“No, really! Just an observation.”
“I need to get back to my dissertation.”
“This is way more interesting,” Tama whined. Aiba...couldn’t disagree. She loved her research, yes, but that good-weird feeling she had last night, that was something different. “Do you always do it with a toy? Or do you do it with just your fingers sometimes?”
Tama had asked her a question. She had nothing else to do but answer. “I don’t really do it.”
“Yeah, but, like, when you do do it, do you always do it with a toy?”
Aiba was having trouble recalling. She didn’t know why they were talking about this. She was still waking up, though, so she couldn’t deal with Tama’s overwhelming presence well enough to steer the conversation in another direction. “Not always...sometimes I just rub my clitoris.”
“Ha! Do you always say the whole word?”
“What whole word?”
Aiba realized a few seconds too late that Tama meant “clitoris”. By then, Tama was already talking again. “Whatever. Look, before you get back to your paper, let’s try something. I think this’ll help you focus.”
Tama turned the TV off. Aiba was glad, but she didn’t know what Tama was going to do next, and that bothered her. “The coffee is enough,” Aiba said.
“I read online somewhere,” Tama continued, “that orgasms feel better when you share them with another person—even if you’re not touching each other.”
“That’s...probably not true...where did you read that?”
“It was on a forum, so this was someone’s experience. Sure, it might not be a peer-reviewed journal article or whatever, but if someone actually lived it, it might have some merit, right?” Tama was talking too fast. Aiba’s mind was elsewhere. She had to get back to her paper... “Let’s practice the scientific method and try and replicate the results.”
“That’s—that’s not—”
“Just show me how you do it,” Tama said, and after a brief pause, added, ”onee-chan.”
Aiba remembered then, and only then, that she had thought about Tama when she was cumming the night before. Her face heated up, and she started to feel hints of good-weird again. Her hand moved to her boyshorts. Part of her protested, but then Tama moved her hand, too, pulling off her pajama pants; that meant it was okay, right? Tama was doing what she was doing.
“I don’t do anything special, Tama,” Aiba said, glancing at the black screen of the TV. “I just—”
“Show me,” Tama repeated.
Aiba showed her. She showed her until her legs tensed up, her knees locked, and her head pulsed. It really wasn’t anything special, she just rubbed down there until she felt too good-weird, so good-weird that she almost wanted to cry. Tama was mimicking her, still, and finished a few tense moments after Aiba did.
Aiba sat there, dazed and looking at her own slick fingers, until she heard Tama laugh. “Oh my fucking God,” Tama breathed. “Wow.”
“We shouldn’t have done that,” Aiba whispered. That was probably what she was supposed to say.
“Yeah. Probably not. I can’t believe you did. That stuff really works, huh?”
Aiba was starting to realize that too much good-weird made her brain go blank. She didn’t like it, but she did, but she didn’t, because she didn’t know what Tama was talking about sometimes, she realized. “What ‘stuff’?”
“I’m just talking to myself. Let’s take a bath, onee-chan. Then you can pour yourself some more coffee and get back to your dissertation.”
“Yeah,” Aiba said. She groaned, and shook her head. “My dissertation. I need some more coffee.”
Tama had broken up with Ryuuki that night, but she’d stayed with him a little longer to console him. He was fine for the most part about them breaking up, but he seemed to be struggling with his feelings for Date. Tama walked him through it and offered a shoulder for him to cry on, and they promised to get lunch later in the week and talk every day like normal.
Tama told Aiba all of this while Aiba struggled to focus on her paper. For a second, once she’d showered with Tama and had some more coffee and sat down, she thought she’d opened up somebody else’s paper. The words on the page didn’t look like hers. P. regina. Post-mortem interval. Nocturnal oviposition. All words that were familiar, interesting even, but overall foreign. Aiba couldn’t even shoo Tama out of her room, where she had draped herself across Aiba’s bed, because she was so concerned with finding out what had happened to her paper.
“I need more coffee,” Aiba said again. Tama had been refilling it for her, but it only made the paper seem more confusing. That must have meant she needed more.
“You’ve been through two and a half pots already, onee-chan.” Tama had stopped calling her Aiba, she noticed. “Too much isn’t good for you.”
Tama sounded happy. Aiba didn’t know why. Maybe because she liked the coffee? “I really like your coffee, Tama.”
“I’m sure you do,” Tama chirped. “But no more for now, okay? I don’t think it’s good to have too much of that stuff.”
“That...stuff? The coffee?”
Tama laughed, tilting her head. Aiba didn’t know when she’d turned her chair away from her computer and towards Tama, but she didn’t want to look at that paper anymore. She didn’t really care anymore. Why was she doing it, anyway?
“No, not the coffee,” Tama said, her eyes narrowing. “I’ve been drugging you, onee-chan. A little something to get you to loosen up. Do you feel loosened up?”
Tama...had been drugging her?
“What?”
“I said, do you feel loosened up?”
Something inside of Aiba screamed, but it went away fast. Like when you were watching a scary movie and something scared you but you realized that it’s not real, it’s not that scary, what are you scared of? Aiba wasn’t scared.
Tama had asked her a question, though.
“Yes, I...I think so.”
“Good. Wanna come get in bed with me? We haven’t spent much time together lately, ‘cause of that stupid paper.”
“Sorry,” Aiba said, then stood up from her chair. “I...I was really focused on it, but...I liked watching TV with you earlier. I missed hanging out with you, Tama. I’m sorry.”
“No need to be sorry! I’m just glad you snapped out of it,” Tama cooed. Aiba began to approach, but Tama held up a finger. “Take your clothes off, onee-chan.”
“Oh, right...sorry.”
Aiba wasn’t sure why she was taking her clothes off, but Tama took hers off too, and she realized why. Aiba started to feel good-weird again. Tama laid back down after she got undressed, then opened her legs. She was wet. Aiba wondered what she tasted like.
“Come get on top of me.” Tama held her arms open, and Aiba slid into her embrace, slotting her legs with Tama’s as she did. She gasped when they made contact, held her sister’s arm. “What’s it feel like?”
“Good-weird,” Aiba shuddered.
“What? The fuck does that mean?” Tama laughed again. “You can’t even use words, huh? That’s pretty hot.” Aiba could use words, she just...didn’t know any. Where did they go? She used to know more. She should have been afraid but she wasn’t. Tama felt good. Like they were melting. “Start moving. It’ll feel even more good-weird.”
Aiba didn’t thought that was possible, until she grinded her hips a little, and—oh, it did feel gooder-weirder. So good. Not even weird. Just good. “Feels good...”
“Yeah. Me too,” Tama hissed. She put her hands on Aiba’s waist, thrusting her own hips, too. Tama’s body was so soft, so plush and curvy and good good good. Aiba couldn’t move her hips fast enough. She wanted it to feel good-weird until she couldn’t breathe, until she passed out, it was all she wanted like she’d been born to do it. “You’re so desperate for it. God. I didn’t think you’d be this—you look so pretty and dumb.”
Aiba shouldn’t have liked being called dumb, but Tama had called her pretty. “You’re prettier.”
“At least you’ve still got brains enough to flirt,” Tama giggled. “Onee-chan, I’m gonna make you my little pet. Okay?”
“Okay,” Aiba breathed. Her body was on fire. Tama’s hands, running up her sides and grabbing her tits, only made her hotter. Tama’s words...they didn’t mean much, but they sounded nice.
“Don’t worry about your stupid fucking—” Tama pulled her down harder, then moaned. Tama sounded so nice. “Fuck that paper, alright?”
What paper...? Oh. That one. Had Aiba really written that? “Okay.”
“I’m gonna go out and go to work, and you’re gonna sit here and touch yourself until I get back.” Aiba didn’t want Tama to leave, but touching herself—that sounded nice. “Then I’m gonna come home and fuck you stupid again. Again and again until that’s all you wanna do.”
“That’s all I—” Aiba’s brain was shutting off. So good so good not even weird just good Tama was so good it was hot and wet and sliding moving curling up between her legs and her stomach and her tits and her whole body so good so good.
Tama kept talking. Aiba didn’t know what she was saying but she kept nodding, saying the right things and moving her hips the right way until the good became good-weird again and made her legs buckled. Tama held her down, chest-to-chest, and locked their legs together so she could keep moving. Something was really wet between them, and Aiba didn’t know if it was her or if it was Tama, but it made the good-weird gooder and weirder, and she didn’t realize she was screaming for Tama until her voice broke.
So good.
“Onee-chan?”
Too good.
“Onee-chan!”
Not enough good, she still wanted—
“Aiba! Hey!”
Tama was patting her cheek. She was on her back now. She didn’t know when that happened.
“Tama,” Aiba responded.
Tama sighed, closing her eyes for a second. “Don’t do that...jeez. Thought I’d accidentally made you overdose or something. I don’t think you can overdose on it, though...”
“On what?”
“Oh, never mind,” Tama said, then kissed her. Aiba had missed her sister a lot. They’d never kissed before, but she missed that, too. When Tama was done kissing her, Aiba licked her lips. “You’re probably hungry. Wanna get takeout?”
“Mm-hm. Can I have some coffee?”
“Yeah, you can.” Tama was really happy that Aiba liked her coffee. Aiba was happy that she was happy. “Lots of it.”