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The Plan, Rewritten

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Shoma leans himself over the railing, the ghost of a smile wistfully affixed to his face. It's a clear summer's morning, the SACOM banner flashing red against the blueness of the sky stretched above. The wind passes through his hair, his blazer and then the sign's canvas with a quiet foom, and he says it aloud to no one in-particular: "Girl's school, eh?" An absurd thought follows the absurdness of this latest obstacle, his head and shoulders slumping to it. "What am I supposed to do, crossdress?"

"Do you want to?"

Shoma whips himself around.

His heart beats against his hand and he finds that Kanba's leaned over him as if it's no big deal, confessing this kind of thing to your aniki. Shoma shakes his head, his eyes narrowing to ascertain how Kanba'd found him and how he'd gotten up here without drawing Shoma's attention. Kanba gives him a glance over, the same kind he's seen his brother give to girls he found attractive. "Hey." Shoma's hands wave him out of it. "Focus."

"It's not a bad idea," Kanba responds. He throws his bag to the ground without ceremony, kneeling over to rummage past a mess of cables. Beneath all of it was a package wrapped neatly in cellophane and a bright pink stationary box he recognizes as Himari's. The bag crunches in Shoma's hands as he catches it.

"Kanba," he says flatly.

"I dated a girl once, really good at this kind of thing."

"What kind of thing?"



He makes a fuss, laying down his pride as a man among other considerations: that they could wait for Ringo's dismissal, that they're really only operating on "probably" and that they don't even know what this penguin drum thing is. But, Kanba lowers his voice to signal the gravity of their situation, firmly reminding him that Himari's life is worth more than one day spent in a skirt, and that a slim chance of her survival is better than none at all. Besides, Shoma's already got the face and build, something Kanba can't manage on such short notice... and their school's so far away that he doubts anyone will recognize him. So, Shoma tucks himself beneath the SACOM banner's shadow, throws off his blazer and pants, and gingerly pulls on the green sailor's blouse and skirt that was the Ohka Garden girl's high school uniform.

He's shorter than average for a guy but taller than most girls, so the hem comes up higher than what's intended. The wind picks up his skirt and Shoma's lips purse, hand folding over his crotch to keep it down.

"Don't do that."


"That super uncute thing you just did."

Kanba beckons him over, pulling the tie into place and realigning the skirt's buttons. It's weirdly intimate, the way Kanba's hands fall over his chest, his hips and ass-- lingering just a moment short of inappropriate.



"But we're not done yet."



Kanba takes his sweet time, rubbing this and that into his face, thumbs undulating his cheeks to soften and moisturize the skin. Shoma opens one eye to which Kanba tells him to relax, they're brothers and it doesn't have to be a big deal-- again-- if Shoma doesn't let it.

And, he swears it isn't. The siblings have all participated in Himari's Super Spa Nights, dollar-store face masks, foot scrubs and manicures to the drone of a nature documentary, some mood music Himari's found and saved in anticipation of their Super Spa Sessions. But, she'd laughed when she smacked the seahorse sheet into his face and then the matching otter for Kan.

The other boy's gone completely quiet aside from a stray comment to "keep still" and that his "skin is already so pretty and smooth" so this shouldn't take much longer. Briefly, he'll stop to examine his work, turning Shoma's face to one side before rummaging back into Himari's stationary kit to pull out another stick, sponge or compact.

"You didn't take it from her, did you?"

"Of course I asked, Sho. I'm not so lowlife that'd steal from his little sister."


Did she ask why? Shoma supposes "no," because Kanba's good with Himari, convincing her with his brand of tickles and compliments. It's for her sake, he reminds himself. And, given all those pauses, Kanba's probably realized it's a lost cause somewhere along the way.

Shoma blinks open with the snap of the box. Kanba pulls out his phone and snaps a picture as he does. "H-hey!"

He dodges Shoma's grab for it, taking another photo, full-body. "I've really outdone myself... If things all work out, I might've found my calling." Shoma frowns; the phone's still out of reach, but Kanba angles it just enough for him to see and.

A softer, prettier version of him stares dumbly back, hair brushed down and to one side. The style's reminiscent of the more tomboyish girls he's seen at school, somewhere in the gray area of masculine and feminine. Shoma's frozen and staring at what some make-up can do to draw the eye, curating features otherwise seen as plain or boring. His eyes haven't always been that big and he's sure his lashes aren't that long. His lips too... It's a pink that suits his complexion so much more than its natural color and Shoma isn't sure how Kanba's gotten his face looking so slim either.

The phone is pocketed and Shoma turns his head to break the trance. "Fine. Let's go then."

"Oh-ho? Looking like that, talking like this. It's adorable. Moe, I think is what they call it?"

It's the same look as earlier but. This time, he finds himself flustered, unable to meet Kanba's eyes. If this was what cosplayers called "getting into character," it's no wonder they'll put so much effort into their costumes-- convincing themselves just as much as they'll convince others. The tips of his fingers fall over the skirts' hem and he mumbles a quiet "Thank you" and "tsundere, actually" in spite himself.

Kanba takes one of his hands, pressing a kiss to its palm. And, Shoma's seen him study that move from a drama they'd watched so many years back... and then time and time again with the girls he'll bring by.

But, he doesn't pull back, doesn't stop Kanba as he moves his head up to place a kiss to his waiting lips.


Their house is too small to hold any secrets from the other, each action, thought and feeling flowing from one sibling to impact the other. Shoma's felt Kanba's presence for years now-- a shadow that moves along the walls of their living space and into their sister's room to linger there for hours on end and.

Kanba thinks Himari doesn't know either. She regards him coquettishly, humoring him as a princess would a prince in-disguise. The girl is kind and sweet and adorable but he's come across her magazines, has seen the tips and tricks she's earmarked as reference... And Shoma isn't so blinded by his love for her as to believe she's above tricking her brothers of her naiveté for the sheer fun of it.

Which leaves Shoma just as open as the two of them. He wonders if Kanba's seen him, curled over himself beneath his sheets, breath escaping in hot puffs as he finds his release. If Himari hadn't asked Kanba why he'd needed her make-up kit when she's already got him figured out too.

Kanba has him pinned against the door to the stairwell, the other hand moving up the skirt to play over the elastic of his underwear. Shoma tilts his head back, exposing his neck just so his brother can run his mouth over it.


"Aniki's hotter, Sho-chan." That hand squeezes his cock through the fabric and he whines because it's just as good as it is humiliating, nodding and correcting himself. A smile and a kiss, hot and sweet, to reward his cute and obedient brother. "That Yamashita guy's real fond of you. You do it with him yet?"

Shoma shakes his head, the question taking him off-guard. "N-no..."

"Good..." A squeeze. "It's better that way. Family knows you best, after all."

Shoma shudders as Kanba brings him close, his hand nothing like his own--firm and sure-- with the added weight of his body pressed over him, grinding slowly over his hips. "So, how do you want me, Sho-chan? On your back?" The bulge is prominent, rubbing over his through the skirt. "Or bent-over... Doggy-style?"


Kanba's locked him in an embrace, hands kneading his chest from beneath the uniform shirt. His skirt splays over his hips and Shoma's glad he isn't facing his brother, if only to bask in the attention without feeling self-conscious about it. Still, the other boy makes it a point to remind him of how much this position suits him, how Kanba didn't think he'd opt for it when he's never been fucked before.

"I would've liked to have seen your face," Kanba sighs. Shoma's breath hitches as the other boy's fingers, cool and slick, enter him. It's weird but it isn't unpleasant-- not the least anywhere nowhere near as bad as Kanba or any of their classmates have built it up to be.

"Then I'd have to look at yours." He mumbles.

"Aw, c'mon... Don't tell me you don't think this is hot."

Another finger joins the first two with a curl, pressing into a spot that has Shoma seeing stars. "A doting aniki, tending to his perverted, cosplaying otouto." Kanba hones in on it, building on the rising pleasure, has him all hard and needy all over again. Shoma arches into the other boy's hands, breathy "a-ah's" and "a-aniki's" pushed past the notion of embarrassment. When Kanba withdraws, he's barely able to keep himself upright, body twitching to the sudden emptiness.

"...So cute."

His fingers rub circles through his skirt and into his hips and stomach. Shoma's face is hot, eyes focused on his own fists, clenched tight as Kanba leans back over him, chest pressed close over his back. Those hands move beneath the shirt to tease his nipples and Kanba lets Shoma know how much he wants this, grinding his length, hard and ready against his ass. "You ever think of me, Sho-chan? When you touched yourself?"

The push is slow but overwhelming, even as Kanba pauses every so often to make sure he's okay-- that it isn't too much at once and that Shoma's enjoying this as much as he is. It unseats his answer, has him thinking "no" but also "maybe, yes," because what if his brother's uncovered some stray thought, having seen something in him that he'd failed to realize in himself.

A beat of silence passes as their hips meet, Kanba stilling himself to relish in having gotten his brother into a girl's school uniform and then fucked him in it too. And Shoma's just about to come out of that daze to tell him off when the other boy starts to move.

Kanba is so much thicker than his fingers, reaching deeper to fill him. It has his nerves feeling raw and over-saturated, the sensation so much that he starts to balk. The embrace tightens, one hand moving down to his own flagging cock. "Relax..." Shoma nods and those thrusts continue in time with how Kanba pumps him, kisses pressed sweet to his ear.

He still aches, but the pleasure overwhelms the feeling, has him docile and yielding, even as Kanba returns to pace, pulling back his hand from his cock to prod his fingers past his lips to suck.


Shoma lasts a few more deep, and claiming thrusts-- red-faced and shaking as Kanba pulls him back into his lap to finish himself. He stares out into nothing, filled and sated as the other boy finds his release, thick and overflowing from where they've joined.

His head nuzzles itself between Shoma's neck and shoulder. "How was that?"

"...Alright, I guess."

"Heh. That so?"

Kanba lifts him up and presses him onto his back. His hair curtains the sides of his smirk and he's just about to go in for another round when...

Buzz, buzz. Buzz, buzz.

Himari's name flashes across the screen and the two pull out from one another to stare at Kanba's phone.

"...Do you think the office called?"

"I thought you called us out."

"Me? I'm not the one with the weird hobbies here. Didn't you say you'd been practicing your impressions?"

"Oh. Yeah, huh."

Another minute before it stops, revealing the time as far past noon.

"You idiot." Shoma wobbles as he tries to stand, his knees turning inward as the cum drips between his legs. Kanba stretches thoughtfully, watching him. "Hey. Actually. You know regular people can't see them, right?" He motions to their penguins, turned from their counterparts and outward, toward Ringo's high school.

"Maybe we can send them instead of you...?"