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Home Sweet Home ch.7
🕑 Added 2024-05-14 18:32:15 +0000 UTCAstoria grabbed a blanket and took a seat at the other end of the couch. It was a bit chilly, and Harry brushed his hand over the quilt.
"Can you share that with me?" he asked.
"Of course not," she said, laughing. "Mind if I stretch out?"
Harry shook his head and soon found himself with the blanket and his younger sister's feet on his lap. He touched them reflexively and then let go, unsure what to do with his hands. Astoria didn’t seem to notice or mind. She rubbed her feet together as if trying to warm them, stopping only when she shifted and one foot draped across his crotch.
He wondered if he should try to subtly move it away, but after a second, it seemed too late to protest. She wiggled her toes, and he felt the movement along the edge of his member, causing an involuntary reaction in his body. It didn’t matter that she was his younger sister, innocent and vulnerable. It should have mattered.
"I love this movie," Astoria whispered.
"Yeah," he replied. "Me too."
To some extent, he managed to focus on the film. Anne Hathaway was a great actress, and Astoria’s giggles were infectious. She never really stopped moving her legs. Eventually, Harry had a full erection under the blanket and had to shift creatively to avoid her toes hitting it directly.
But there was only so much he could do. At one point, Astoria shifted, and her foot almost slid the entire length of his hard member. A dark part of him relished the contact and waited eagerly. His sensible, older brother side was mortified, especially when Astoria suddenly pulled away and stood up.
"Refill?" She took his glass.
"Sure," he said, exhaling a held breath.
When she returned with two cups that looked more like wine than Sprite, she placed them on the coffee table. Instead of going back to her old spot, she snuggled up to him, reminiscent of how she used to cuddle against his side when they were much younger.
"Astoria," he said, smiling but not pushing her away.
"Harry." She blinked, still smiling, her breath heavy with wine. "Am I really such a total loser?"
"You're not a loser, Astoria." He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her head. "You’re just a little drunk."
"So, I’m ugly? Is that why?"
She blinked a few times. It was hard to tell if her tears were from the alcohol or something more. Either way, Harry felt a deep pain for his younger sister.
"You're so far from ugly, Astoria, it’s funny you’d even ask," he murmured.
"Really?"
She looked at him with wide, moist eyes and moved even closer. One of her hands rested on his thigh. Harry shifted nervously, aware of how close her fingers were to what remained of his erection. That terrible dichotomy of desires hit him again, intrigued by the contact, yet terrified of what would happen if she noticed his arousal.
"You're wonderful, Astoria. Amazing, lovely, beautiful, however you want to call it. But you shouldn’t feel you need to be that way, you know? You should just be happy being yourself."
"I'm so glad you’re my brother, Harry."
Astoria leaned in even closer, clearly drunk. She stared at his lips, her eyes dropping to half-closed lids. The dark voice was there again, urging him forward. She still needed comfort and assurance, and who better to give it than the one man in her life who would never betray her?
"Astoria..." he whispered.
Her hand rested on his thigh, and the tip of her index finger brushed against his erection. He could do more than just kiss her. Both of them were drunk, sitting alone on the couch and watching a movie.
The front door suddenly opened. Harry jumped away from Astoria as if she had just pulled a weapon on him. Daphne entered the living room, playing music through her phone’s speaker, noisily taking off her shoes.
“What was that?” Daphne asked. “Why did you get so scared? Do you have a girlfriend, Harry?”
“No!” he snapped. “It’s just me and Astoria.”
“Oh.” Daphne walked closer and sniffed the air. “Oh!”
Harry was mortified but tried to pretend he was engrossed in the movie. His heart pounded faster and simultaneously felt like it was sinking into his chest. Daphne's voice had that distinct edge to it. They had been caught.
“You're drinking mom's wine again, aren't you?” Daphne asked.
“She never notices,” Astoria muttered.
“She will if you drink the whole bottle, idiot,” Daphne said. “Harry, shouldn't you be the older brother and stop your younger sister from illegal activities?”
“As if you ever did that with me, older sister,” he said, relaxing a little.
Daphne opened the freezer and groaned. “I still can't believe you didn’t bring me my cookie dough ice cream. I owe you for this.”
“Daphne wanted cookie dough?” Astoria asked. “Daphne eats any flavor of ice cream, while you were always picky,” he said, smiling.
“Thanks, Harry,” Astoria whispered. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, her face close to his. The smell of wine on her breath sent a terrible rush of heat and emotion through him.
For the rest of the movie, they kept a reasonable distance from each other. Astoria fell asleep when the film ended. Harry picked her up and carried her to bed the same way he did when she was little, tucked her in, and kissed her forehead before heading to his own room.
Harry was the first downstairs the next morning and had the honor and privilege of cleaning and starting the coffee machine. Astoria had left the bottle of wine she had been sneaking on the counter, and he recorked it and put it back in the wine cabinet, though it was obvious it had been tampered with.
He still couldn't shake the memories of the previous night from his mind. Astoria was clearly drunk, but the way she looked at him and played under the blanket revealed a hidden desire in him. A desire he knew he could never give in to, a kind of longing that was best buried deep and never thought of, never acted upon.
It still hurt him that she asked if she was ugly. The bullying must have really dug deep into her psyche for her to harbor such insecurity even for a moment. She was undeniably pretty, maybe not busty, maybe not classically beautiful like a supermodel, but she was the kind of girl who, outside the pointless cliques of school, could date anyone she wanted.
Daphne descended the stairs. Harry had almost gotten used to her skimpy morning outfits; today it was a turquoise tank top and gray yoga pants, but becoming accustomed to it was a problem in itself. His gaze lingered on her longer than usual, and Daphne noticed, giving him a challenging look as she marched towards the coffee.
"Is it ready?" she asked with a weary groan.
"Almost," he replied, placing his hand on the pot to pour himself a cup. Daphne tried to slide in front of him to pour her coffee first.
"Get out of my way, Harryy-kun," she muttered.
His frustration boiled over, and he pushed her away with his hand, aiming for her shoulder but accidentally touching one of her breasts. Daphne looked at him rather than panicking, pushing herself back, moving with more force than he did.
"Move, Harryy-kun."
"Make me."
Daphne smiled and stepped closer. Harry's eyes were immediately drawn to her chest, her breasts bouncing slightly. Was every morning going to be like this? Each entrance, every morning with Daphne, as irritating and frustrating as when they were silly kids?
"Pour me some?" she asked, handing him a mug she had picked up for herself, moving so close that she almost pressed against his side. Harry hesitated, surprised by her tone.
"Sure," he said. "You just had to ask nicely."
"I'll remember that for next time," Daphne replied.
She stretched, pushing her chest and stomach forward, daring Harry to take a glance. He did, noticing her smirk as if she had won some hidden prize. It was annoying but fair play.
"You should check on Astoria," Daphne said. "I already saw her sneaking some wine. She's such a lightweight."
Harry started pouring himself a cup of coffee, his mind drifting towards their other sister. "Does she drink often?"
"I mean, not too often, but it's becoming a bit of a habit for her," Daphne said.
"Do you think it's a reaction to her situation at school?"
"The bullying?" Daphne shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know. I guess I'm a little worried, but telling Mom seems like the last thing that would help."
She sighed, and Harry felt like they had found at least one thing they agreed on. He poured a cup of coffee for Astoria and headed to her room. He knocked and heard a muffled "Come in," spoken in a slightly hoarse voice. Without further hesitation, he opened the door.
Harry blinked in surprise. Astoria was lying in bed in just her underwear, with one leg still under the sheet but completely exposed. She had obviously just woken up, based on her sleepy expression and the way her red hair was strewn in a tangled mess. Her bra was black and lacy, while her panties were light pink and cotton.
"Hey, Harry," she mumbled. "Good morning."
"Good morning, Astoria." He placed the coffee mug on her nightstand and tried not to stare. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I got hit by a truck," she murmured. "And then run over by a cement mixer."
"Ouch. Coffee might help."
She reached out and grabbed the mug. He started to pull away, but she held on, drawing him onto her bed, where she hugged him from the side as he sat next to her. It was such a girlish and sisterly gesture but also problematic, given her state of undress. Harry patted her head and slowly began to get up.
"Can you pick me up from school today?" she asked.
"Sure," he replied. "But I don't think I can park in the church lot, so expect me right in front of the school."
"That's fine. The only reason I wanted you to park there was so you wouldn't see what a loser I am. That ship has sailed."
"You're not a loser, Astoria," he said. "Not even close."
He had to look away when she finally stood up and bent over to open the bottom drawer of her dresser. Her butt was small but spectacular, pale and perfectly spankable. He felt the urge to slap himself for that thought as he forced his legs to carry him out of her room.
