BLLK Sae Itoshi

Sae hadn’t set foot in Japan for what felt like forever—four years, give or take, since he’d bolted off to Spain to chase that pro soccer dream.

The grind out there was brutal, all training camps and matches that left him bone-tired, but now he was back for some bullshit passport renewal that couldn’t be done remotely. No way was he shelling out for a hotel when his old man’s place was right there in the suburbs, all quiet and familiar. He figured it’d be a quick crash, in and out, but stepping through that front door hit him with a wave of nostalgia he wasn’t expecting.

The house smelled the same—mix of his dad’s cheap aftershave and whatever floral crap your mom sprayed around to make it feel homey. Your mom, yeah. She’d married his dad about a year after Sae left, turning the whole family dynamic into this weird blended mess. You were her kid from before, barely legal now at 18, still finishing up high school or whatever. Sae had only met you a handful of times during those awkward family dinners when he—rarely—came back in Japan to say hi, but damn, you’d grown up. He remembered you as this shy little thing, always hiding behind your mom, but now? You were all curves and confidence, strutting around in those tiny shorts and crop tops that showed off just enough to make a guy notice.

He dumped his duffel bag and suitcase in the hallway, kicking off his shoes, and there you were, padding down the stairs in fuzzy socks, hair messed up like you’d just woken from a nap. Your eyes lit up when you saw him, that big goofy smile spreading across your face. “Sae-nii!” you called out, using that cheesy-cutesy nickname that made the corners of his lips twitch every time in a barely smile. You bounded over, throwing your arms around his neck in a hug that pressed your body right up against his. He could feel the softness of you, the way your tits squished against his chest, and yeah, maybe he held on a second longer than he should have. It wasn’t like that back then, but now? Shit, things felt different.

Rin was lounging in the living room, sprawled on the couch with his phone in hand, probably scrolling through soccer highlights or some crap. His little brother—well, not so little anymore, all tall and brooding like a mini version of Sae himself—glanced up and immediately scowled. “You’re back,” Rin muttered, not even bothering to stand. Sae just nodded, ruffling your hair as you pulled away from the hug. Rin’s eyes narrowed, flicking between the two of you like he was piecing together a puzzle he didn’t like. He’d always been the jealous type, especially after Sae left and Rin got stuck dealing with the family stuff solo. Now, with you in the mix, it was like Rin had this invisible wall up, acting all pissy whenever you and Sae got too chummy.

The first few days were chill enough. Sae spent mornings jogging around the neighborhood, shaking off the jet lag, and afternoons dealing with passport office bureaucracy that dragged on forever. Evenings, though, that’s when things got interesting. The parents were out a lot—dad at work, your mom dragging him to some couples’ yoga class or whatever lame shit they did to keep the spark alive. That left the house to you three: you, Sae, and Rin, who mostly holed up in his room blasting music through headphones like he was allergic to human interaction.

You’d hang around Sae like a shadow, asking a million questions about Spain. “What’s the food like? Do the girls there all look like models?” You’d plop down next to him on the couch, legs tucked under you, thigh brushing his casually. Sae didn’t mind; hell, he kinda liked it. You’d laugh at his dry jokes, leaning in close enough that he could smell your shampoo—something sweet, like strawberries. Rin would wander in sometimes, grabbing a drink from the kitchen, and catch those moments. His face would twist up, like he’d swallowed something sour. “You two are gross,” he’d grumble under his breath once, but Sae just shot him a look, and you giggled it off like it was nothing.

But it wasn’t nothing. Not to Sae. He’d catch himself staring when you weren’t looking—watching the way your ass filled out those yoga pants as you bent over to pick something up, or how your shirt rode up when you stretched, showing a sliver of smooth skin.

At night, lying in his old bed, he’d think about it more than he should. You were right down the hall, probably in some skimpy tank top and shorts, scrolling on your phone. Step-sister, sure, but blood didn’t tie you two. That made it easier to justify in his head.

One late afternoon, the tension cranked up. Rain was pouring outside, turning the backyard into a mud pit, so everyone was stuck indoors. Rin was in the basement gym, pounding away at a punching bag like it owed him money—probably working out whatever shit was eating at him again. Sae had claimed the living room, flipping through channels on the TV, when you wandered in with a bowl of popcorn. “Movie marathon?” you suggested, flopping down beside him so close your knee knocked his. He shrugged, but didn’t move away. You picked some cheesy rom-com, the kind with predictable plots and hot makeout scenes.

Halfway through, your hand ended up on his thigh—innocent at first, just resting there while you laughed at the screen. But then your fingers started tracing lazy circles, inching higher. Sae’s breath hitched, but he played it cool, eyes fixed on the TV. You shifted, leaning your head on his shoulder, and he could feel the heat radiating off you.

The air got thick, charged with that unspoken vibe. When your hand slipped under the hem of his shorts, brushing against him, he finally looked down at you. Your eyes were dark, lips parted just a bit, like you were daring him. He didn’t stop you. Instead, he grabbed your wrist gently, guiding your hand higher until you were palming him through his boxers. You bit your lip, squeezing just right, and Sae let out a low groan. The movie droned on in the background, but neither of you really gave a shit.