Makoto gently pulled out of her. The wet sound seemed impossibly loud in the sudden quiet.
He quickly pulled her shorts back up, trying to keep his cum from leaking out and staining the chair. A futile attempt at hiding what they'd just done.
His cock was still semi-hard and throbbing as he brought it near her face. She was still pressed against the dining table, breathing hard.
"Give it a good cleaning before you go and open the door for your friend, then," he whispered roughly.
Yuna's whole body trembled. Her legs were shaky, her ass still twitching with little aftershocks.
When she looked up at him, her eyes were glazed and her lips swollen and red. She smelled like sex and sweat. There was no hiding it.
The doorbell rang again, more insistent this time.
The sound echoed through the apartment.
She groaned and pushed herself up slowly. Her movements were languid, almost lazy.
She licked her lips while holding his gaze, then took him into her mouth. Her tongue moved over his shaft with practiced ease that made his toes curl.
She sucked him clean with wet, sloppy sounds, her cheeks hollowing as she took him deep.
When she pulled back, there was a lewd pop. A strand of saliva connected her lips to his tip for a moment.
"There," she whispered, her voice husky and satisfied. "All clean."
She stood on trembling legs and walked to the door with a deliberate sway in her hips.
"Coming!" she called out, then opened the door. Her face transformed into a mask of innocent friendship.
Makoto yanked his pants up, adrenaline and shame washing through him in equal measure. He rushed to the oven and pulled out the cheesecake.
Sweet burnt sugar filled the air.
"Well, it's a bit charred around the edges, but it still looks deliciously lovely," he muttered to himself.
He set it on the cooling rack and braced himself for whatever was about to happen.
The kitchen smelled like charred sugar, warm cheesecake, and the lingering musk of what they'd just done.
It was such a bizarre, domestic combination that made everything feel surreal.
From the living room, he could hear Yuna's voice. Too bright, too cheerful, completely fake.
"Oh my god, Mika, your hair looks so cute today!"
A softer voice replied, though he couldn't see the owner yet. "Thanks! Did I come at a bad time? It smells amazing in here."
He heard a backpack hit the floor, then the rustle of a plastic bag.
"I brought you guys some cookies from that new bakery you like," Mika said, getting closer. "And some tea for your brother. Yuna said he likes Earl Grey, right?"
Yuna laughed too loudly. "He loves it! You're so thoughtful!"
Then they were standing in the kitchen doorway.
Mika was exactly like Yuna had described.
Her long, straight brown hair flows behind her, neatly styled. She has soft brown eyes that sparkle with a mix of innocence and hidden mischief, complemented by a sweet expression and a subtle, knowing smile as she tilts her head slightly.
She wears a crisp white button-up shirt, tucked neatly into a short pink skirt that shows off her toned legs. In her hands was a small gift box wrapped in delicate paper with an elegant bow.
Her gaze moved from him to the slightly burnt cheesecake and back again, and her smile got wider.
"You must be the famous older brother," she said warmly. "Yuna talks about you all the time."
Beside her, Yuna looked forcefully casual. But her hand was behind her back, fingers twisting in her shirt hem.
When their eyes met, hers held a desperate command: Don't fuck this up.
"You must be Mika," he said with a polite grin. "Please, come on in."
He gestured to the table and the cooling cheesecake. "Yuna told me that you love cheesecake, so we tried to make some for you."
He cut two slices, deliberately giving Yuna the slightly bigger piece.
Mika's eyes lit up. "Oh, you didn't have to do that!"
But she was already sitting down, looking at the cheesecake with genuine delight. "It looks amazing."
She took a bite, and her eyes fluttered closed.
Pure bliss crossed her face. "Wow," she breathed. "This is... like... the best cheesecake I have ever had."
She looked at him with something between awe and admiration. "You're a really great cook."
Yuna stabbed her slice violently. "He's okay," she muttered. But there was something in her eyes. Pride? Jealousy? She took a bite, her face unreadable.
Mika turned back to him, her voice softer. "Yuna also told me that you work from home. It must be nice, having so much freedom."
Her gaze was open and curious. Completely innocent.
Next to her, Yuna sat coiled like a spring, gripping her fork with white knuckles.
Makoto winked, finding Yuna's foot under the table with his. "Well, if you don't mind, you can come over more often if you want to try my cooking, Mika," he said in a low, suggestive tone. "And you can tell me more about what Yuna is like in school, too."
Yuna's fork clattered onto her plate with an angry crack.
Mika beamed at him, completely missing the tension.
Her cheeks flushed pink. "I'd love that! And oh my god, Yuna is a riot at school. Last week in chemistry class, she nearly blew up the lab trying to..."
"Trying to make a smoke bomb for the school festival," Yuna interrupted. She shot him a look that could kill. "It was for a skit. For the drama club."
She shoved a huge piece of cheesecake in her mouth, eyes locked on his.
The message was clear: Shut. Up.
Mika just laughed, eyes sparkling. "She's so creative. You must be so proud of her."
Under the table, Yuna stomped on his foot. Hard.
"Yeah, of course," he grinned, poking Yuna's cheek. "It isn't like you can find such a cute little stepsister anywhere else, right?"
He turned to Mika. "Is she popular in school, too?"
The temperature seemed to drop.
Mika nodded enthusiastically, still oblivious. "Oh, definitely! Everyone loves Yuna. She's funny and smart, and she's not afraid to speak her mind."
She took another bite, looking thoughtful. "A lot of the guys in our class have a crush on her, actually."
Yuna froze mid-chew.
"But she turns them all down," Mika continued with a hint of a smile. "She says she's not interested."
She looked between them, curious and something else he couldn't quite read. "I guess she's just waiting for the right person."
Her gaze lingered on him a second too long.
Under the table, Yuna's hand found his thigh. Her nails dug in hard enough to leave marks.
Makoto shrugged casually. "Well, I can understand that."
Then he leaned in close and sniffed Mika's hair. "How about you, Mika? I guess you must be popular, too?"
Mika froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. Her eyes went wide, her cheeks flushing deep red. "I... I..." she stammered, completely thrown by his sudden intimate gesture.
Yuna's grip on his thigh became a vise. Her knuckles went white, the grip almost painful. He could feel her whole body vibrating with silent rage.
"He's... a little weird," Yuna squeaked, forcing a laugh that sounded more like a strangled sob. "He's got a really sensitive nose. From, uh, a childhood allergy. To dust."
She kicked him under the table. A sharp jab that made him wince.
But Mika was staring at him with confusion, embarrassment, and surprisingly, a hint of a smile.
"I... I guess I'm popular enough," she said breathlessly. "I've been on a few dates. But I haven't really... clicked with anyone yet."
She looked down at her plate, still blushing.
Beside him, Yuna looked ready to commit murder.
Makoto grinned slowly. "Hmm, I guess you must be cute and beautiful when you dress up."
He let his gaze linger, imagining her in a Marin Kitagawa or Yor Forger cosplay. His mind wandered to how she'd look in those outfits, how her body would fill them out.
"Do you watch any anime or read any manga?" he asked, leaning closer.
The room went from tense to arctic.
But Mika seemed to recover, a shy smile appearing. "Oh! I love anime," she said breathlessly. "I've been watching My Dress-Up Darling lately."
She looked up at him, eyes sparkling with excitement. "Do you like cosplay too? Yuna is so good at it. I've always wanted to try, but I'm a little too shy."
Yuna sat like a statue of pure fury. Her hand on his thigh was a claw now, nails digging so hard he was sure she'd drawn blood.
She opened her mouth to say something. A retort, a threat, a scream?
But then she stopped.
A slow, wicked grin spread across her face. It was devastating.
"You should totally do it, Mika," Yuna purred sweetly and dangerously.
"In fact..."
She looked at him, eyes glinting with malice that made his blood run cold.
"My brother could help you. He's an expert at... costumes."