InsaneJournal

Fic: Something Terrible (Tales of the Abyss, Van/Tear)
So. I have been watching mahokiwi and laylah's second playthrough of TotA. I've been enjoying it a lot - we're just to where you meet Emperor Peony, and although I've seen some stuff a bit later too, I would greatly appreciate a lack of spoilers. ^^

...The thing you have to understand about this fic is that I wasn't shipping them at all - probably honestly hadn't even considered the possibility - but then there was a scene. And then unbearable hotness. And this attacked my head.

...I would have sworn I didn't have a brother/sister incest kink, but what do I know, apparently.

...I think I'm going to need some TotA icons. -_-; Tear icon get! :D

Tales of the Abyss, Van/Tear. 1.6k words. Exceedingly not worksafe.
Warnings for the aforementioned incest, and, while I don't know the timeline well enough to know exactly how old Tear would need to be here, I am almost certain that the answer is Too Young.
Tear knows it's wrong to want this.

Something Terrible

It's wrong to want this. Tear knows it's wrong, but for some reason she can't stop.

It was mostly an accident, to start.

Yulia city was quiet and calm, as a rule; there was rarely anything to do but study. These days when Van came down to visit it was a major event. This time he'd only been down for a short while, and had returned to the Outer Lands before evening fell.

She had been too excited from his visit to sleep, that was all. She'd lain awake in bed for hours, her mind still thrilling and running over his stories even as her body strained for sleep. She'd slipped a hand down into her panties without really thinking about it. It was just a bit of stimulation to help her relax. Only she'd found herself remembering how her brother looked in his new regalia, and that made her flush warmer.

She should have been appalled with herself and stopped right then. She can only blame the fog of exhaustion clouding her mind and the fact that it felt good for the fact that, instead, she stroked herself faster and continued. Remembered the way Van had smiled at her over dinner, the way touched her cheek as he promised that she could start combat training of her own soon. She'd felt more aroused more quickly than she ever had before. Her skin felt like it was pouring off heat, and she imagined what it would feel like to have him here now, touching her, large hands on her oversensitized skin, and, ah—her hips bucked up into her hand involuntarily—maybe even touching her the way she's touching herself now—

Her body shuddered with pleasure as she climaxed. As the warmness suffused her, she'd pushed away the rising tug of guilt enough to sleep.

The clarity upon waking had brought a dawning sort of horror. She'd spent the whole morning blushing as she recalled it—she had masturbated over her brother—and eventually had to excuse herself back to her room begging illness. That was worse, of course—sitting there alone with nothing else to think about. But at least she didn't feel like everyone looking at her could tell what she'd done.

What's worse—much worse—is that she still thinks she likes the idea, even in full possession of her faculties.

She hasn't really been able to forget about it since. She really should have declined this trip, but it was rare enough that Van had spare time to spend away from the Order. For him to offer her a few days' worth of training in the Outer Lands was too much to pass up.

It's torture, though. It's just the two of them, and as they settle not far from the spring, Tear can't help herself. Between Van taking out the few monsters who wander nearby—she's always enjoyed watching him with his sword, but this is different—Van showing her how to clear the area for the camp—which is nothing, really, but he's stripped down to light clothes and she can't help watching him as he moves and half-flushing every time he looks over to see if she's listening—Van standing too close behind her to stir the stewpot, not smelling like anything but sweat and himself but she wants it. She's aching for him almost constantly all day, and he's her brother and it's wrong, for Lorelei's sake. But she can't stop.

She also can't sleep, not with him bedded down a few feet away. She tosses and turns on her bedroll until Van asks her if something is wrong, then freezes dead for a few seconds before she manages to respond in the negative. Then she makes herself hold still, but the more she tries not to think about it the more she does think about it, and her body burns.

She's not going to be able to last like this. Slowly, she moves a hand to her crotch. Maybe, if she keeps very quiet and doesn't think about Van at all—

The first touch is too much. She doesn't quite manage to choke off her gasp.

"Tear?" And that's bad - Van's shifting across from her, sitting up, coming over to see her.

"I'm—fine." But her voice doesn't sound it. She moves her hand away quickly, although at this point if he gets close enough he can probably smell it on her.

He notices something as he kneels over her. She can see it in his eyes even by the light of Luna.

"Ah. Is that it?" he says, and she tries to sit up—tries to deny whatever he thinks—but she doesn't get words out before he's kissing her. He takes advantage of her shocked noise to brush his tongue into her mouth, and that's not brotherly at all and if she thought she was aroused before now she thinks she might die.

He breaks away, and his voice is noticeably deepened as he asks, "Is this what you want, Tear?"

Her mind spins. This isn't—they can't—but Van's looking down at her, and there's only one true answer to that. "Yes, it is."

"Then, how can I not oblige?"

Van lifts his shirt off before she's quite processed the implications of that, and she finds herself staring at his bared chest. He was never this muscular, before—but of course that makes sense.

Then he stands. "What—" she manages, before he's pushing away his light trousers and she realizes full force what he's doing as he bares himself.

He's hard. He wants her, too. It's hard to believe. She sits up slightly, to look.

"Yes?" he asks, and she nods, barely, overwhelmed.

He kneels again, unhooks the supports on her tunic and lifts it over her head. Then he runs a hand down her side—through her hair, over her collarbone to her bared breast in a firm stroke that makes her gasp, then down over the curve of her waist to hook under her trousers. She shifts her hips upward without thinking, and he pulls the fabric down and off easily.

Then she's naked. Van slides a hand up the inside of her thigh. He can see—feel—how wet she is. For him. She lets her head fall back and her eyes close for a moment. This can't be happening.

He moves himself above her. She can feel his hot skin on hers.

"You're wonderful, Tear. I'll keep you by my side always."

"I—yes," she manages, and then she can't say anything at all, because he's pushing into her. He's big, so big it feels like she's splitting—but it's what she wants, so much what she wants, soothing that deep ache.

Then he moves, just a bit out and then back in again, deeper, and it's almost more than she can handle. "Ah, Van—"

And it's not right. It's her brother, she's having sex with her brother, but they're the middle of the wilderness and no one will know, and it feels so good.

"Yes, just like that," Van says, and she's coming in a daze of spinning and heat before he manages to thrust a third time.

She can't tell how long her orgasm lasts; Van holds still inside her through it. When she comes down a bit, though, he starts moving again, steady and slow, and it's different—close to too much, but she can still feel sparks of pleasure as he thrusts.

"You needed this terribly, didn't you?" Van smiles down at her, and she can only moan and spread her thighs wider to give him room to move.

With some of the tension gone, she can really feel him moving inside of her, hard flesh shifting as he thrusts—see the sheen of sweat that's gathered on his chest, the way that his eyes look a bit wild, like they sometimes do when he fights—smell her own climax and his musk mixing with the smell of sweat and grass—

"Ah, please," she says, because it's good, she can feel the pleasure building again, but it's not going to come as easy this time. "I—I need—"

"Need more?" He purrs at her, and for a second she thinks that's going to be enough. "That can be arranged." He shifts his weight, supports himself with just one hand on the ground—she can see the tendons of his arm flex even in the dark—and reaches down between them to touch her.

"Yes," she says as he strokes her. It's just like what she imagined, only better, so much better—

"Lovely Tear. Come for me again," Van says, and he sounds breathless, and she opens her mouth to respond somehow but then she is, shuddering around him for a second time.

Her eyes refocus just in time to catch the look on Van's face as he comes, thrusting into her once more with a grunt. She immediately wants to see that look again. It's unique.

After a minute he pulls out. He's gentle, but it's still kind of uncomfortable.

"Get some sleep, Tear. We'll clean up in the spring in the morning."

Tear knows vaguely that they've done something terrible here. And she feels sticky and vaguely sore already. But she smells like Van, and she feels so good that she can't bring herself to care.

She just nods at him and curls back up to sleep.