
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/301594.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Hustle
  Character:
      Sean_Kennedy, Emma_Kennedy
  Additional Tags:
      Sibling_Incest, Implied_Incest, Telepathic_Bond, bond
  Collections:
      Yuletide_2011
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-12-24 Words: 1523
****** Still not apart ******
by Scribewraith
Summary
     Emma and Sean share a bond, even though the foster care system keeps
     them apart. Underage sex, masturbation and implied incest.
Notes
     This was a fun pinch-hit to do and I hope that my lovely recipient
     enjoys it a lot - you're letter filled me with ideas and I got to
     play with something that I would never have come up with on my own.
     Yay!
It’s not something that they talk about -- they’ve never had to -- but Sean and
Emma share a deep and profound bond. They’re not twins, or mutants and they
don’t think that their family has secret magical powers. An evil witch didn’t
curse them at birth although Emma sometimes jokes that it could explain a lot
about their childhood. It’s probably always been there, but she knows, now,
that it took tearing them apart to make it grow.

The first time that Emma has sex she’s thirteen and her foster brother has been
hitting on her for the last few weeks. She gives in because he’s not that bad
looking and after getting out of the last house where the father had been
hovering, looking at her with a little too much lust in his eyes, Emma decides
that she wants to choose when. She thinks that he’s more surprised than she is
when she says yes and they slip out to the garden shed and he slips her panties
down and he puts his fingers in her and then his dick. Sure it hurts and she’s
not really ready for it, and it’s over really quickly, but she smiles coyly at
him when they’re done. She thinks she’ll do it again with him, at least till
this family tires of her, like the last three have.

She doesn’t really notice the second set of thoughts she hears, under hers,
thinking
oh my god, what’s this, wow, I can’t be here, where’s the bathroom, oh god, oh
god.

Emma and Will have sex a few more times before he gets sent back into the
system. It’s fun and they get better at it, sneaking out to the shed or the
park, but he’s fourteen and picking fights at school and their foster parents
keep yelling that they just can’t handle him. Emma keeps her head down and
keeps out of their hair and pretends to watch over the younger kids. She misses
Sean.

She gets moved to another family and the other layer of thought doesn't stop
happening whenever she has sex. She just notices it more. Sometimes when she’s
touching herself under the covers of her bed she can hear a whisper and
sometimes when she’s out on the estate with the other kids running amok, and
she takes a boy, cigarettes finished and beer swilling around their mouths,
under the stairs or in the laundry and they finish each other, she feels
another orgasm echo over her skin. Emma just thinks it’s something about her,
that it’s just another reason why her father abandoned them, why Sean’s not
allowed to be with her even though they both begged to be kept together. That
it’s another thing that explains why
everyone thinks there’s something wrong with her.
She gets older and the thoughts get clearer and once or twice she feels the
echo of hands over her skin, of a quick wank, head falling back against a wall,
and she has to cross her legs in the middle of class, or dinner, or while she’s
out ‘shopping’ with the girls.  She goes back to her room, late at night and
touches herself, remembering how it felt, and it feels like there’s a feedback
loop like she learnt about in science. Every touch she makes against her skin
is echoed in her head, and her thoughts, and as she gets excited it’s like
there’s a voice or body hovering inside her, cumming when she does.
She likes it best when she’s got her own room.
She’s sixteen when she finally gets out of the foster system, leaving school
and her ‘family’ in the same day. She disappears into London, only stopping to
find out where Sean is. She turns up outside of his school, standing outside of
the gates, dressed as elegantly as she can manage after trawling op shops in
Soho for The Very Wealthy Woman’s cast offs. It’s the best she can do to remind
herself, and Sean, of where they came from. It’s probably ironic that sometimes
she feels like she is the very cast off she’s wearing.

The bell rings and everyone rushes out the gate, chattering loudly. She sees
Sean before he sees her and she can’t help the grin that breaks out on her
face. It’s been four years since they were last allowed to see each other, four
years since they touched, four years since they could do anything more than
sneak out to make whispered phone calls or have supervised visits under
watchful eyes. She takes a deep breath...
It’s like one of those moments in a movie when everything slows down and then
starts again, when you know that the worst of everything is over. He looks up
from the group he’s right in the middle of, his arm loosely over the shoulder
of an Asian boy, laughing at something that was said and she can see the
moment, the exact moment when he notices her standing there. He freezes and
drops his arm, the group moving on without him. She looks down and then back up
at him, waiting, and Sean breaks into a smile bigger than hers. He leaps over
to her, rushing past the other students, grabbing her arms and then shoulders
and then bringing her in for a hug.
“Emma, oh my god, Emma.” He’s breathless and holding onto her and just so
happy.
“Sean,” she’s not sure what to say, it’s been so long.
“Oh, how long are you here for? What are you doing now?”
His excitement wears into her and she can feel it in her bones. “I’m free,” she
says.
They walk down to the local cafe together, hand in hand, giggling and chatting
and it feels for a moment like it was before they were torn apart. He tells her
all about his current foster family, his school, his best mate Raj. She tells
him about her plans. He’s nearly fifteen now and it won’t be long until they
can go out and take over the world together. They’ll never have to be apart
again.
She knows, now,  that she didn’t recognise his touch, then, when they were so
wrapped up in each other and the excitement and relief, and that she didn’t
notice that she wasn’t just feeling her own joy. They sit at the table, teas
drunk and cups empty, their plate with chips and vinegar nearly empty, and they
talk until Sean has to go home, never letting the other one go.
She's staying at a bed and breakfast two blocks from Sean’s school that night.
It's paid for from a credit card stolen out of a wallet left at a table at the
train station for a couple of minutes too long. She has a bath, lingering in
the warmth, not yet wanting Sean to realise that she isn’t quite as together as
she wants to be. The excitement she’s been feeling all afternoon hasn’t yet
dissipated, and she can feel the lingering warmth that means the start of one
of those moments. She’s warm in the bath, and happy, and she lies back, fingers
touching her nipples and hips as it takes over. She can feel other hands on her
body, stronger and more real than she’s ever felt it and the whispered thoughts
are clearer this time, like a conversation. It feels like lips working down her
body, soft, and fast, and fingers and hands holding her in place. The more real
it feels the easier it is to notice that the body being touched isn’t hers,
it’s not curved in the right places and it’s firm in ways hers isn’t. She can
hear the whispers,
more, right there, harder
, and she can hear the murmured replies clearer and clearer. She’s so used to
the sensations though, of a body touching her that isn’t her, of an
undercurrent to all of her sexual encounters, that none of this registers at
first. It’s hearing the whisper of
Sean
, the touch on her groin, the mouth that joins it and none of that feels like
her pussy, her hands, or anything that she’s ever experienced before. The
masculine voice calling out and whispering in her ear is something that she
knows well.
She’s coming down from her orgasm, filtered in and out of the layers of
thoughts and sounds, before all of the dissonance comes together. She’s not
sure what to do with the thought. It’s not just that it must be Sean that she’s
been hearing and touching and she guesses, fucking, but that the person that
he’s really touching, that he’s whispering the name of, over and over, is Raj,
his best friend.
It’s not something they ever talk about, but she knows they both know. It’s the
uncomfortable moment when Sean can’t meet her eyes after a one-night stand a
week later. As they get older, and their bond gets tighter and they can use it
in so many other, useful, grifting, ways, she never regrets those moments that
they share, in their heads, together. It makes them, them.
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