A/N: For Daamile and Teal, from your friendly neighborhood smut peddler 3

Shooting ran late, so it was already dark, but that didn't matter to him. The tiny, pale fingers interlocked with his were an anchor keeping him rooted to the ground. He kept his stride short, so as not to overwhelm her shorter legs, as they walked side by side. The world around them existed only as a backdrop, the people they passed merely a blur. There was nothing but her, long hair bobbing up and down with each step, as he stole a glance at her face. She turned her head to look at him, smiling knowingly. It wasn't right how much he loved her.

"Nii-san," she pouted, bottom lip jutting out to tempt him.

"What?"

Did he play along with this game only because he secretly enjoyed it?

"I don't want to go back to the room yet."

He liked it better when it was just the two of them, with no one else around to bother them, but maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. When they were alone, it was too easy for things to get out of hand. Being so close to her was dangerous, and he had to remember where to draw the line, especially because it became fuzzier and fuzzier over time.

"Alright," he breathed, "where do you want to go?"

"Mmmmm," she hummed, tilting her neck and twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "I want to go somewhere fun."

He clenched his jaw to stop his lips from curving upwards, reminding himself not to let her see his eagerness. It wasn't him who would get burned playing with the fire, and he could never forgive himself if she got hurt.

"Let's see," she pulled him along with her, surveying the area, "oooh, yes, let's go there."

His heart fell into his stomach; he didn't even need to see where her finger was pointing to know. Part of him hoped they wouldn't let her in, but he doubted it with the way she looked, and he couldn't stand to see her disappointed. So long as he was there to protect her, she was safe, he just had to remind himself of that. He shot the doorman a look intent to kill, letting the smaller man know he wasn't to be trifled with. Where Setsu went, he followed, and he wouldn't let anyone get in her way.

The music got progressively louder as they stepped inside, blacklight and neon gradually breaking through the darkness of the pitch black corridor. He could feel her bouncing slightly on her toes, delicate fingers squeezing his hand excitedly. This was alright, he told himself, no big deal. He'd have a few drinks, killing time until she got bored, and then they could go back to their room. It was just a nightclub after all, even Setsu could only get into so much trouble here.

They took a seat by the bar, and she sipped her sickeningly sweet, pink drink, while he nursed a whiskey. She tried to capture his attention by eating a cherry as suggestively as she possibly could, swirling her tongue around it, before pushing it between her pursed lips with her index finger. She dragged the finger along her teeth, as she slid it slowly out of her mouth, and he pretended to ignore her. Of course she noticed how quickly he finished his glass, and of course she knew that he was always watching her, no matter how disinterested he tried to seem.

He ordered another drink, and grabbed hold of her wrist when she tried to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"Just to dance, do you want to join me?"

"No, stay here."

"I don't want to, so either let go, or come with me."

There was that pout again. He let out a harsh breath, weighing his options a moment, before finally releasing his grip. Maybe if he left her alone long enough, she'd come back to him on her own, and they could finally leave. He knew her better than to think it was a real possibility, but he could still hope. The alcohol burned his throat as he gulped it down, a familiar sensation that helped to ground him, filling his stomach with a pleasant heat. It only did so much to take the edge off, but there was no way in hell he was leaving her alone to take a smoke break outside.

She started slow, getting used to the beat he guessed, moving her head side to side and stretching out her arms. First it was just a gentle sway of her hips, back and forth, matching every other thump of the base. Her movements became more and more pronounced, her speed increasing, until she was perfectly in time with the rhythm. She arched her back and rolled her hips and he wondered how the hell she learned to do that with her body.

Her pelvis moved in a figure eight, rocking forward and back with each swing of her hips as she changed directions. She kept her hands above her head, touching at the wrists, before dragging one slowly down her body. Starting with her face and neck, and then teasing along the outside of her breast, before trailing down her stomach and then along her thigh. The other hand soon followed, its path much quicker, until they were both sliding up and down her hips. He nearly choked on his drink, swallowing an ice cube, and had to fight to keep from coughing.

No matter what, he had to keep his outward appearance as passive as possible, because she couldn't know how much she was affecting him. The figure eight gradually morphed into a circle, her body moving much more fluidly now, as her spine began to undulate, lifting her breasts up with each arc. He stood immediately when he saw someone approach her, ready to rip them to pieces. She raised a hand to stop him, and it took every ounce of his willpower to obey.

When the insolent whelp was close enough, she placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered into his ear. Cain's blood boiled, anger rising like bile in his throat, as the urge to hurt the miserable scum touching Setsu nearly overwhelmed him. She cast a look in his direction, smiling wickedly, as she wrapped the stranger's arms around her own. How much tolerance did she expect him to show before his patience snapped? Did she want to leave a body count behind when they left? If this carried on much longer, he was liable to.

Greedy hands slid along her skin, eager to feel what they had no right to, and he jumped to his feet with such force that his chair toppled over. In the space of a breath he stood before them, first irritation and then fear in the eyes or his prey, and a vicious smirk on the face of his sister.

"Go. Now." He warned, his every muscle tense with rage.

He didn't know if he was thankful or disappointed to find his order obeyed. Without even a glance at her, he turned to leave, stopping dead when he felt a tug on his sleeve.

"Nii-san," she whined, "cooped up in that room, and waiting on set all the time, I never get to have any fun."

"Fun?" he snapped, "you think it's fun to let some strange man lay his filthy hands on you?"

She put her hands on her hips, tilting her chin up at him. No matter how angry he got, she was never afraid. The depth of her trust in him helped to calm him down, at least enough not to yell at her. Sometimes she acted without sense, never considering the consequences, but then, wasn't that a trait they shared? Made for each other, wasn't that how it felt? Blood of his blood and flesh of his flesh, a part of his very soul, if he had one.

"Nii-san," she drawled, taking a step toward him. "I just wanted to dance. Sure, you were my first choice, but you said no. What other option is there but to find someone more willing?"

He pressed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. Was he so easy to manipulate? This was all just a game to her, but she didn't realize how much she stood to lose if he let her win. It wasn't for his sake that he was always holding himself back. Why couldn't she understand that?

"Let's go Setsu, it's time for bed."

She shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You can leave, but I'm staying."

"Please, just do as I ask."

"Okay, we can leave, but first…" he could practically hear the words before she said them. "Dance with me?"

"Setsu."

"One dance won't kill you, Nii-san."

He wasn't so sure about that himself, but he could tell she wasn't gonna let it go.

"One dance and then we leave, promise me?"

"I promise, Nii-san, just one dance."

"Alright," he breathed, excitement and fear rapidly replacing his anger.

Even if it was a terrible idea, it would just be a few minutes. He could stay in control of himself for that long, no matter how much she tortured him, couldn't he?

"You know, you really are the best nii-san in the whole wide world."

She smiled, standing up on her toes to press a small kiss to his cheek. He closed his eyes, wanting her soft lips to linger against his skin, but relieved when she pulled back. Maybe there was a chance she'd actually behave, he thought, but knew that he wasn't that lucky. She placed her hands in his, smiling as she looked into his eyes, and the world faded out around them once more. It was just the two of them again, in a space all their own, and he'd gladly have stayed there forever if he could.

When a new song started, she began to sway, moving his arms along with hers. He resisted at first, but eventually let go, finally letting her have her way. Just one dance, he could give her that. It was a small thing anyway, wasn't it, even if he was so close to the flame that he could feel himself burning. What started off innocent enough changed quickly, when she turned around and pulled his arms along with her. It was a reflex, squeezing her tightly, as he remembered the sight of the stranger's hands touching her.

"You're my you, Nii-san, or did you forget?" she whispered, barely audible over the music. "You belong to me, and I belong to you. For the rest of our lives."

His heart ached, the memory fresh in his mind, as she leaned back to rest her head on his chest.

"For the rest of our lives," he whispered into her hair.

As the beat sped up, so too did her movements, hips rocking side to side as she leaned into him. His fingers traced up her arms, the feel of her skin against his electric and setting his nerves ablaze. She reached up, her fingers digging into his hair and pulling him down, until his head rested in the curve of her neck. He breathed in the scent of her skin, so familiar it was almost a part of him; the only home he'd ever known. His grip shifted so naturally, pushing up the flimsy fabric that covered her, so he could place his hands on her bare stomach.

"Nii-san," she whispered.

"Setsu."

She shivered, his mouth so close to touching her skin, and he closed his eyes. It was too easy to get lost in the feel of her body against him, as the blood rushed between his legs, making him hard. He tried to put some distance between them, before she had a chance to feel too much of him, but she forced them back together. Her hips rolled into him and he let out a small groan, his fingers digging into her skin. What the hell was she thinking? This was way over the line, no matter how right or good it felt.

"The dance isn't over, Nii-san, you promised."

He was supposed to argue, to remind them both why this couldn't happen, but her reasoning seemed so sound. It was wrong though, even if it didn't seem to matter at that moment, and he was trying to remember why exactly they needed to stop. Maybe he'd had one too many to drink, or maybe it was the atmosphere of the club. It was almost hypnotic, feeling the floor pulse beneath them, in sync with their bodies as they moved to the music. They fit so perfectly together it was like they belonged that way, his hands tracing the curve of her hip bones and pulling her in tighter.

He throbbed, his arousal almost painful as she rubbed her ass against him over and over. Did she have any idea what she was doing? Shouldn't she be scared? What was she thinking, and why the hell was he going along with it? He knew, it was because he wanted it; far more than she could've possibly imagined. His hands dragged up and down her body, fingers splaying over her thighs. How easily he could slip between them, the longing to touch her overwhelming.

"We shouldn't do this."

Even if his heart wasn't in it, he still had to keep up the pretense. It was more for himself than for her at this point. He was desperate for her to say something, anything, that would make him stop.

"Just one dance, remember?"

His grip was rough, harder than it should've been, as one of his hands worked its way upwards. She would reach her limit and end it at any minute. That's what he was waiting for. That was all it would take for him to pull back, but she didn't. He felt the swell of her breast beneath his palm and he squeezed, his hips rocking into her. She moaned, arching deeper into him, and his teeth scraped along the column of her neck. He could feel the hardness of her nipple through the fabric, and he teased it with his thumb.

"Nii-san," she breathed, the sound undoing the last of his resolve.

The hand still at her thighs moved inwards, and they parted slightly, as if anticipating him. Did she have any clue what she was asking for? This was… but he couldn't bring himself to stop. It was near dizzying, the better senses all driven from his mind; leaving nothing but the irrepressible need of his desire. His fingers found her center and caressed her through the thin fabric of her pants. She mewled, her hips lifting to give him a better angle, as he kissed her skin. Was she really so wet that he could actually feel it, or was he just losing his mind?

She shuddered against him and he could no longer tell which way was up. Her fingernails dug into his scalp as he continued to stroke her with one hand while kneading her breasts with the other. Her shoulders pushed back into his chest, and he rocked his hips into her, as he traced a path along her jaw with his tongue. She tilted her head, their mouths dangerously close, and he could feel her breath in the space between them.

"Setsu," he warned, his voice rough.

"Nii-san," she moaned softly, the sound arcing through his body like a bolt of lightning.

He was damned already, what did it even matter now? He pressed his lips to hers, soft and gentle like she deserved. It only took a second for her to respond, urging him deeper, as she took his lower lip between her teeth and bit him hard. He thrust more forcefully into her, as she rocked against his hand. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? How little restraint he had left? He was only a man after all, and he was nearing his limit.

His racing pulse nearly stopped dead, when he felt her tongue brush across his lips. He parted them, eager to greet her as she delved inside his mouth. The taste of her was intoxicating, the hesitancy of inexperience lasting only a moment. As always, she learned far too quickly, and his thoughts filled with all the things she could do if he gave her a real lesson. She sucked on his lip, teasing with her teeth, and flicked and licked at his tongue. When they finally parted for air she was panting, gasping to catch her breath. All it did was turn him on even more.

He pressed his fingers deeper into her and she bucked, biting him hard as she moaned. His eyes fluttered shut, getting too close now, and he wanted so badly to lose control. The taste of her and the way she felt; her scent, it was all driving him crazy. He felt like he was in a trance, almost delirious, his head heavy and light at the same time. She writhed against him, working him up higher and higher. Somehow, being aware of the pleasure she derived from his touch affected him more than the feel of her body moving against him. She was perfect, and he never wanted to let go.

"Nii-san," she purred, as he sucked on her neck. "Nii-san."

So close now and he'd be over the edge.

"Nii-san!"

The loud, angry sound of the alarm blared in his ears, and it took him a minute to realize what was happening. His eyes slit open slowly, the too bright light stinging as it invaded the darkness, and he quickly shut them, bringing an arm over his face. It felt like he'd lost a part of himself, the warmth and feel of her body against him suddenly gone. Instead of on the dancefloor, he was lying in his bed, cocooned beneath the covers. More than anything he wanted to go back there, to where he could touch her without consequence.

He reached out blindly, searching for the snooze button, and lifted his elbow to cautiously let in the light. There was no Kyoko here, not anymore, and he ached for her presence. Though it meant he was safe from having crossed the line, right then disappointment was winning out over relief. It was easy enough to imagine her fixing breakfast for them in the makeshift kitchen, while he entertained the fantasy that their short-lived domestic bliss was more than just acting out a role. The occasional dinner at his apartment just wasn't the same.

It was so hard to let go; to have to get up and face the empty room, when the echo of her touch still lingered on his skin. It was all only dream, but it had felt so incredibly lifelike, and the erection throbbing between his legs was certainly real enough. It was a bit depressing, the knowledge that she would never actually want him that way. If she was there now he'd have to hide, escaping to the bathroom before she could see, which would've only made him feel worse. Still, he missed her fiercely, despite having finally learned to be comfortable alone with himself.

A/N: Hopefully the ending isn't too disappointing haha. I'm blaming Daamile, who said no to bathroom/back alley sex xD xD xD

I might have taken some anatomical/logistical liberties here with height differences and such, but especially since it's only a dream /shrug.

To people waiting on the next chapter of The Rules, I am sooooo sorry! It's been about 80% done for ages, but writer's block is killing me. The stress from moving is ugh. Do not recommend. Anyway, hopefully this bit of palette cleanser will help get me back into it.

Thanks for reading!