"Do you have to be so blunt?" Makoto groaned. The fight was over. He couldn't deny it anymore, not to her, and definitely not to himself.
"Fine." His word was heavy, a mix of terror and relief. "I'm worried I'll actually fall for you if we keep going. Okay?"
He looked down at his hands, at the bowl of now-cold ramen, anywhere but at her face. "There. I said it. Now, tease me or blackmail me or do whatever it is you do. I don't care anymore."
He paused, the next words coming out in a rush, a raw, desperate plea from the depths of his confused heart. "And… I don't want every fuck to be a transaction. Not with someone who only sees me as a wallet. You understand?"
Her chopsticks stopped halfway to her mouth. The smart-ass smirk, her default weapon, just vanished.
For the first time since this whole mess started, the mercenary glint in her eyes was gone. In its place was something else, something shockingly soft.
"Idiot," she muttered, but there was no bite to it.
She scooted closer on the bench until their thighs were touching. "You think I'd let just any guy with a wallet grope me while I'm dressed like a kid?"
Her voice was low, a tone he hadn't heard in years. "You're gross and a pervert and my stepbrother… but you're my gross pervert."
She poked his chest. "The money? That was so we could both pretend this wasn't real." Her finger trailed up to his lips. "But if you want me to stop charging…"
Her grin returned, but it was different. Sharper. More honest.
"…then you'll have to admit you love your little stepsister. Properly."
She leaned in, her breath a warm, tantalizing puff against his skin.
"And I'll ruin you for free. How is that, big bro?"
The words sent a jolt through him.
"That's… embarrassing," he stammered, his face on fire.
Her laugh was sharp and real. "Embarrassing? Big bro, you paid extra to pretend to rape me while I was wearing my old pajamas."
She slapped a hand on the counter. "So, our new deal. No more money, but..."
Her grin turned feral. "You have to say one honest thing after every time we fuck."
Her foot hooked around his ankle under the table. "Like… 'Yuna's pussy is addictive,' or…"
She dropped her voice to a whisper thick with a dark, thrilling promise: "…'I came harder inside my stepsister than I ever could with a girlfriend'."
Suddenly, her expression softened.
Her pinky finger hooked around his under the counter, a childish gesture that felt profound. "…Or you could just say 'I love you' now and save us both the therapy bills."
She kicked his shin, a familiar, bratty gesture that felt strangely comforting. "Idiot."
Makoto felt a strange, giddy relief wash over him.
The honesty, as terrifying as it was, was a breath of fresh air. "As if I don't praise you after every time we fuck," he pouted playfully, hooking her finger tighter.
He was pushing his luck, he knew, but he couldn't stop himself. "Easy for you to say. How about you say something honest about me, right now?"
Her cheeks flushed a deep, furious red.
She opened her mouth, probably to call him a pervert, but stopped. Her eyes darted away, then locked back onto his with a terrifying intensity.
"You're…" She swallowed hard. "…a pathetic, fat, kinky, incestuous bastard."
Her pinky tightened around his. "And I think about your stupid curved thick cock when I'm rolling for gacha pulls at three in the morning."
The confession, wrapped in her usual insults, hit him like a physical blow. He stared at her, speechless.
She leaned in until her forehead was resting against his. "I hate how you make lunch better than me! I hate that I've memorized the way you groan when you come."
"I hate how my cunt eagerly accepts your cock and your cum. I hate that my body wakes up when I hear you jerking off in the next room."
He'd expected insults, maybe a demand for more money. Not this. Not a raw confession that mirrored the darkest corners of his own desires.
He pulled away, a playful pout on his lips. "Wow, didn't know you hated me that much," he teased, his voice a little shaky.
"Maybe I should keep my distance from my lovely little stepsis from now on."
"WAIT!"
Her hand shot out, grabbing his wrist like a vise. The mercenary mask shattered completely, leaving something raw and terrified. "I... Fuck!" She took a shaky breath. "I don't hate you, you idiot."
Her voice cracked. She looked around nervously before leaning in so close that her lips brushed his ear.
"I hate that I get wet when you call me your little stepsister," she whispered, the words barely audible, a secret confession shared in the heart of their public sin. "I hate that when other guys hit on me, all I can think is how boring they are compared to you."
She pulled back, tears in her eyes, her face a mask of furious vulnerability. "There. Happy now?"
He was more than happy. He was terrified, exhilarated, and hopelessly, irretrievably lost.
"Well," he said, his voice softer than he'd ever heard it, "There is no way my little stepsister is this cute when she's honest."
He leaned in, his hand coming up to gently rub her head, his fingers getting lost in her soft, gray hair. He pinched her cheek, a familiar, brotherly gesture that felt charged with a new, unspoken meaning. "Good girl, good girl."
Yuna's cheeks blazed crimson. She swatted his hand away with a snarl, but her fingers lingered against his for a second too long.
"Shut up!" she hissed, though there was no heat behind it, only flustered embarrassment. "I'm not some fucking pet!"
She glared at him through wet lashes, the steam from the ramen fogging the air between them.
"And don't think this changes anything!" She stabbed her chopsticks into her now-cold, neglected bowl of noodles. "You're still paying for my next five-star pull."
But when he reflexively reached for his wallet, she kicked his shin hard under the table.
"Idiot," she muttered, her voice thick with an emotion he couldn't quite name. "Not… not today."
With trembling fingers, she picked up a piece of chashu pork from her own bowl and shoved it into his mouth.
"Eat," she commanded, the insult lacking its usual venom. "Your fat ass needs it."