Disclaimer: I don't own any of this!

Notes: I would have had this up last Friday, but FF wasn't letting people upload things. Oh well. Sorry I haven't posted anything in forever -_-" I'm still alive. This was written for the dgm_fuhq, I claimed Komui/Hand and I tried not to use his name AT ALL in the story. I can't remember if I did or not, and I'm too lazy to check…

Beware!: Crappy attempts at angst, incest (of sorts… would this even count?), and mild obsession.

-

The room was dark, what little light it contained leaking in through the rips in the threadbare curtains that he refused to replace. Everything it touched was illuminated; made to glow as his clothes hit the floor article by article and the fresh sheets were peeled back. Tonight was the first night he had to sleep in months, but he'd long since known it wouldn't have even crossed his mind.

It was his sister, his dear Lenalee, that he'd occupy the night with. Or at least he'd planned to. She was on a mission, hundreds of miles away, in the middle of the ocean no doubt, with Kanda. If she'd turned the mission down, he wouldn't have gotten the chance to disgust himself. He wouldn't have been hiding in his room, and he most certainly wouldn't be naked in his bed imagining her bringing the science department coffee in the scandalously short skirt she wore.

But she wasn't with his, so surely that justified his situation. Surely it excused his fantasy of being something more than her brother; something more than the hypocritical pervert that wanted nothing more than to tie her up so that he could have his way with her, claim her until she couldn't breathe and begged for it to stop, the girl he'd forbid anyone to even think of touching.

Maybe, somewhere along the way, he'd overstepped his boundaries as her older brother. Checkups were something they could both understand, and he'd admittedly used it to his advantage. He knew his overly-loving sister thought nothing of the extra second he'd hold the stethoscope to the swell of her soft breasts, telling her to breathe an extra breath just to be near her. Ensuring her safety was what he lived for. He would die without the girl and the rest of the Black Order knew it.

With the softest of exhales, he let himself fall back onto the crisp sheets that separated him from the mattress. The fabric was cold to the touch, sending chills across his flesh and through his stomach. He let out a sigh, as naked as the last time he'd bathed with the girl on his mind, closing his eyes in order to conjure up more of the memories with her.

She was far too perfect, anyone could see that, and he refused to let anybody have her. It was nights like these that were the worst: they'd always leave him to think about things better left untouched, but he couldn't even say he hated it, because who wouldn't? The pictures that usually surrounded him were all facedown, as if it would somehow comfort him. Make him feel like less of an incestuous pedophile. He liked to think it was because there was no replacement for his sister. Least of all a still-frame image that wouldn't even dare to show him the beautiful shade of emerald that were her eyes.

She was warm against him, he could still feel it even if it'd been so many years ago. If he thought hard enough, he could still smell the lavender that clung to her hair and skin… The scent that had remained, trapped, in his sheets for days after and had only gone away once one of the men working the laundry room had switched them out. Except… they had smelt of bleach and detergent. Not Lenalee. Every time there after, that he would get the chance to lie in bed, it would send needles shooting through his chest. It hurt, but that's what warning should have done.

It'd been two weeks since he'd last seen her. Even the Order's best golems couldn't get a signal to where she'd been sent. Just one word to the girl, just one reassuring word that she'd be coming back to serve his department coffee once more… To smile that beautiful smile that was all but fake. If it were, he knew it'd kill him a little, if only on the inside. So long as it stayed hidden from the girl, he just wouldn't be able to bring himself to care.

Fingers traced the contours of the sheets, a clear image of Lenalee lying beside him visible in his mind. He foolishly let the idea manifest into his stupid fantasy, knowing very well that it would only aid in the fact that he was breaking slowly. After all, she'd never understand such a sickening obsession when he'd done his best to shield her from the horrors of the world. But he ended up giving himself false hope because of the things she'd already seen at such a young age. How had she ended up so innocent in such a cruel world?

Imaginary arms radiated warmth that could only be that of Lenalee's as they wrapped themselves haphazardly around his neck, sending shivers of anticipation through his nerves as he let his own breath ghost over his shoulder. Imagination. It just made things more painful. He should've learned the first time.

Keeping up his games, he pretended the palm that was ghosting down his chest was his sister's and not his calloused own. It'd gotten easier to ignore the ache in his chest over time, smiles and hugs hiding the fact that he'd been thinking dirty things behind her back, but consequences always came. Though later, much later, they'd leave him in tears, face damp and buried in a pillow with her face on it.

Taking another deep breath, he ended the torture he usually put himself through and wrapped his hand around his erection. He sickened himself by how hard he'd become in such a short period of time just from things that were as simple as memories.

He fisted himself hard, making sure to rake fingernails up his length painfully as he continued his steady strokes. It was torturous, but he was sure that Lenalee would do it the same way as he was if she'd ever be willing to try it out. A virginal girl would be nervous… right?

And then again, thinking that she wasn't a virgin made him hot, incredibly so. She'd work him much faster, wouldn't hesitate to try something new. She'd make him squirm and whimper, surely. It was always one of the other with his sister. Like the colors black and white, they'd never blend without turning into something else completely. It was a doomed fantasy, but perhaps that was the idea of playing pretend.

He could have whatever he wanted in this moments, perfectly round breasts lightly bouncing as she rode him, fingers pinching and teasing the nipples as moans spilled from her lips, cries of his name, anything. Even if it was still his own hand underneath all the facades, pretending was always worth the pain it brought.

He teased the slit at the tip with his finger for a moment, pretending it was a tongue as he sucked in a much needed breath and tried to even out his breathing enough to suck in enough air as it would take to hold back the senseless moans.

He wouldn't last very long, he never did, and before he knew it, his seed had soiled his hand and the sheets. Why even bother cleaning it up? He wouldn't be in his room for another week or two, and by then the cleaning crew would've taken the sheets away.

He sighed, realizing that he'd never have a chance to share a bed with Lenalee again. Much less if she knew what he'd spilt on the sheets.

He'd messed up somewhere and turned her into his play toy.

-

I feel like I haven't wrote anything in FOREVER. Well, I blame finals. Which, are finally over! Yay. And I probably have off of school Monday… so yay for updates? XD

Review?