FSE

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--1

Ace slumped back in bed, groaning in a personal, emotional agony. It had come from a recurring nightmare-- no, not a nightmare. He never actually dreamed it; no matter how nightmarish it felt, it was just a source of endless perturbation for him. Deep thought kept him awake, woke him back up if he actually managed to fall asleep, and, in general, left him miserable during the day.

"Sis?" he whispered, peering across the dark bedroom.

A protracted, dozy yaaawn greeted him, and then came a soft, female voice. "I'm here, Ace."

Since the day they'd been born together, Ace had shared a room, a life, and an affectionate - but platonic - relationship with Clover, his sister. More often than not, through the years, he offered her fond squeezes and reassuring words. He chewed out problematic, lewd boys in high school over her, he'd once broken a stalker's nose, and he even sacrificed the love of his fiancee for her.

It was this last bullet point which kept the tod awake.

You've got to be kidding me, Ace, she'd said, and she said again, replaying in Ace's dazed mind for the what felt like the billionth time, you have to go see your sister again? The flu? I don't care! She can take care of herself!

But Ace had been adamant; he insisted he go help his sister. He always made it a point to be there for her.

Ace's fiancee had conceded. She closed her shallow, amber eyes, she shook her head, and then she waved him off. It was her little pantomime whenever she was simply exasperated with him - that time had been the final straw, however. A thousand petty arguments and disagreements boiled over that night, and when Ace went back to her apartment in the middle of the night, he found his possessions stuffed haphazardly into a duffel. Get out was unspoken, and yet when he pushed the point, he was told those two words again and again, beginning in defeated near-silence, ending in hysterics.

So Ace got out.

So Ace moved back in with mom, dad, and Clover.

Suddenly, it was Clover's turn to offer the comfort. Whenever Ace awoke in the middle of the night - or finally conceded defeat to his insomnia - she was there. "I'm right here," she cooed, getting up from her bed. She shuffled over, dragging her feet in tiredness. She sat down on the bed at Ace's side, then wrapped her arms around him.

Though the night was dark as pitch, Ace could see by the light of the alarm clock's face - and as a vulpine, he had some degree of night vision, though much of that had been bred out of his kind over the generations. Clover's figure appeared to him as a fuzzy silhouette, the curves of her small, dominantly fennec body modest but ample. Despite being aware of his sister's figure, Ace didn't feel any lecherous desire. Neither did he feel aroused when she held him close, and he felt her soft breasts press into his naked chest, covered only by a thin nightgown. He hugged her back, and he listlessly whined.

For Clover, it had taken all but a pair of pliers and some colorful threatening to drag the truth out of Ace; he was loathe to tell her that the fact that she had been so needy was why his engagement folded, and once she knew the truth, she felt a mix of rotten guilt and hatred, the latter towards Ace's then-ex. Intuition had warned Clover that that woman (her name was Leela) would break Ace's heart; she also knew why it would happen. It was the same reason mother had taken up smoking again, and why father rarely said more than five words to either them in a given day.

They were too close. And though nothing had come of their "relationship," people talked and wondered. Random strangers would, ironically, have more dignity on the subject. It was just horrible social grace to make incestuous assumptions about a brother and sister. Family could be total bastards, never chained by the same moral standards as outsiders, able to say I bet they and I heard they and they're unnaturally close with impunity.

In a vicious cycle, it drove Ace and Clover further into each other's arms, but they always found comfort there. Where father was too distant, mother was too eager to change them, and boyfriends and girlfriends and just-friends were too shallow, they comforted each other and chased away the demons.

Ace lay his chin on Clover's shoulder, his larger body nearly eclipsing hers, but he felt tiny and vulnerable.

Well aware of this, Clover shushed him, kissed his cheek, and squeezed him as tightly as her arms would allow. "It's okay... I'm right here," she cooed. Like tending to an infant, she patted and petted him, kissing his cheek and neck, shushing and cooing and lying about just how okay everything was in such a fucked-up situation. Shushing nightmares and infantile fears was a natural skill of hers.

Like always, Ace felt the anxieties sink, disappearing under his sister's comfort and care. Like a switch had been flicked, he was tired, and he lay back in bed with a deep yawn.

Clover smiled, and she leaned over him. With a kiss on the nose and a soft stroke on the muzzle, she wished him goodnight, and she crept back to her bed.

In the middle of the room, she paused, slowly turned on her heel, and gazed at her brother. He slept only in boxer shorts, his sheet pulled down to around his pelvis, the way she'd seen him a thousand times over the years... A gentle flutter in her chest, a loving sensation, but it felt more like a warning. She chased away the unfamiliar and unwanted thoughts by reminding herself of how pedestrian their lives were, how much effort they put into just being bro and sis.

Clover climbed into bed, and she closed her eyes.

--2

Two weeks later, Ace and Clover shared their graduation day, leaving college for good with degrees in hand. Ace, being sharp-minded, with an interest in justice, was well on his way to law enforcement with a degree in that field; his tall, toned, well-exercised body was ideal for it. Clover was similarly noble, but in a different direction, for her degree was in education. It was her desire to teach the young.

For the two of them, the day went along with an eerie, unexpected smoothness. Mother and father both delivered them to the college, stayed for the ceremonies, and they were all smiles, nothing but supportive of their children. Mother didn't smoke a single cigarette or nag at all; father candidly spoke to the two of them before, during, and after the ceremony, in which they and a few dozen others walked off the stage with the tangible sum of their educations in hand.

Even on the drive home, mother and father were absolutely saccharine.

To Ace and Clover, this seemed strange and suspicious. Clover glanced at her brother, regarding him with a queer, twisted grin and a quirked eyebrow: what the hell is going on?

Ace, after making sure neither parent was watching, gave Clover a sympathetic look and shrugged his shoulders. Twilight Zone, he mouthed.

Amicable conversation came and went freely. Father asked Ace if he was thinking of a desk or a field job; Ace was hard-pressed not to cringe when he said he wanted a field job, but mother didn't even start to lecture him about the dangers involved. She was supportive of the idea.

Mother! Supportive of a job where her son could get shot or shanked! It was absurd. Clover and Ace exchanged their what the hell is going on? faces again.

"Are you guys all right?" Ace asked, cracking a wan smile. In some way, he kept expecting himself to wake up, as if he were in an impossible situation.

"Of course we're all right," father said, chuckling easily. "Can't we be happy that our kids made it through college?"

"I guess so," Clover said. "Jeez, where are the pods?" she whispered to Ace.

Father's large fennec ears pivoted, and he subtly turned his head. "Hm?"

"She said, what are the odds?, I guess that we both got through college," Ace helpfully said.

Clover grinned at Ace, and he shrugged modestly.

"So, my little Clover," mother said, sparing the smallest glance away from the road to look at her daughter in the rear-view mirror, "what plans have you got?"

"Well, I do like working with kids," Clover mused, "so I was thinking about getting an apprenticeship at the local elementary school."

"Very noble, wanting to educate children," father said. Not encumbered by driving like his wife, he was free to turn his head, and he did so to look at Ace. "So, Ace," he grunted, "you wanted to work in the field? Arrest criminals, respond to emergencies?"

"Yeah." Even as small as father was - he was no more than five feet, not including his large ears - Ace was hard-pressed to look right into his eyes.

"That's a brave thing to want to do. I'm sure the girls will find you hard to resist once you're wearing a uniform," father said, diffusing the unease with a coy grin.

Ace grinned back, but he was blushing modestly, too.

Clover giggled, covering her mouth as a lady was apt to.

"Although," mother said in a hopeful tone, which Ace, Clover, and probably father all knew meant a guilt trip was on its' way, "with that degree, you have proven your maturity - maybe Leela might reconcile with you, hm?"

All at once, the mood became sullen. Clover simply rested against the door and stared out the window listlessly.

It was unclear if father was in on this, but the way he hushed up and began avoiding all eye contact telegraphed his discomfort.

Ace was immediately thrust into a defensive, but sardonic tone. "Maybe she would - but who cares? She didn't hesitate--"

"I care!" mother snapped, making no attempt at subterfuge; raw contempt boiled just under her voice, fast boiling over the edge. The speed at which her mood had changed directions made father and the siblings immediately suspect menopause, but nobody dared bring that up. "God_dammit,_ Ace," she hissed, her cursing rare and, due to that, startling.

"It's my life," Ace blurted, still a little dazed by mother's volatility, "and I don't want her back in it."

"Ace, it's all right," father offered in a sympathetic tone.

"You shut up," mother barked; father did as he was told. "Look," she sighed, despite keeping a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel, "just call her? Let her know that you're not going to be spending as much time with your sister, that your life is on track, and--"

"No," Ace flatly stated in as neutral a tone he could manage.

"Ex_cuse_ me?" mother said, peering at him in the rear-view mirror; she nearly drifted into a semi-truck, but caught herself and focused on the road again.

"You heard me," the tod warned, using mother's moment off-guard to work up his nerve. "I'm not going to call her - and I'm sure as hell not going to lie to her about ignoring Clover."

"I didn't say you had to ignore Clover," mother said through her teeth, trying to sound soothing and reassuring, failing miserably on both counts. She sounded as petty and domineering as ever.

"Sure, you didn't say it, but it's not that hard to read between the lines when you put them a mile apart. I've heard the arguments and the talks, I know what you think, and I know what the family thinks. None of it's true! Why is it a bad thing that I spend time with my sister?"

"Ace, you don't--," mother started.

Ace stopped her. "You don't! I'm tired of everything coming back to," a mocking tone for mother, "you spend too much time with your sister! I'm sick and tired of it!"

"Ace, stop it," Clover whined, her face buried in her paws, ears sagging down heavily on either side of her head.

On that rare occasion, Ace explicitly ignored Clover's pleas. "I didn't even want to be with Leela - I was gonna marry her was just to get away from YOU!"

"That's enough!" father yelled, but without conviction. His voice cracked and faltered.

Clover started to cry; Ace was so furious that he trembled and cried a little bit, himself.

Mother cried most of all, and she swiftly pulled over on the highway's shoulder, where she sobbed into the steering wheel. She didn't even put the car in park; she just sat with her foot jammed into the brake pedal.

Father didn't try to comfort her, nor did he scold Ace. He just sat still, made profoundly uncomfortable by the sounds of his wife and daughter sobbing.

After the most awkward five minutes the four could remember, mother wordlessly merged back onto the highway, and they went home in deadly silence.

--3

Over the coming week, as Ace and Clover put in their applications at the local precinct and elementary school, respectively, they spoke very little to mother and father. With father, it wasn't unusual for him to be silent and passive, but it was considerably more disturbing that mother minded her own business so thoroughly.

Whenever she was given no choice but to interact with Clover, mother did her best to be cordial, but the bombs Ace had dropped on her left her yet timid and shaken. Presented with the challenge of talking to Ace, she was more apt to give her son a rather wide berth and a scornful glare, like a feral cat at a stalemate over its' territory.

One of these days was considerably less tense and more all-out vicious, but everybody knew it had been coming.

Mother had gingerly attempted to make up with Ace - and as Clover covertly observed, it seemed to go well. That was until mother tried to push the sore subject of Leela, and Ace bombed her again. Not just the small warning shots in the car, these were rolling, nuclear carpet bombs. Neutron bombs. World-destroying bombs that hadn't been developed or named yet. He devastated her; fed up, pushed to the edge, he ran down an itemized list of how badly she'd fucked he and Clover up over the years. (He had been sure to use those exact words, too.) Ace's performance was as terrifying for Clover as it was for mother, and in the end, both women cried - mother more than Clover, and for different reasons. Mother was heartbroken, and just broken in general; Clover was terrified that that kind of monstrous anger was boiling under Ace's skin.

Clover went back up to her room - it was hers and Ace's, in actuality - and tried to calm herself down. Downstairs, she could still hear the raised voices on both sides, and mother's sobbing. Father joined in at some point, and was just as easily thrown out of the argument; by who, Clover guessed it was mother. It went on for what felt like hours, but really, it was only a very intense half-hour. Perhaps the most intense in all her life.

To escape from the muffled, demonic screaming from under her feet, Clover grabbed her laptop, slid on her headphones, and put on the most obnoxiously loud music she could. It hurt her big, tender ears, but even that hurt less than hearing her brother viciously attack their mother like so.

Not just content to block out the noise, she started to aimlessly search online, and her queries reflected her mood, with strings like how to get away from crappy life, how to escape psychotic family, and family is driving me crazy. Because of these, she wound up on a site that seemed to promise the cure for all of her - and Ace's - problems.

It was a travel agency for a Colorado ski resort.

Clover was stunned by the imagery. Having lived amongst corn fields and small towns in an atmosphere so ironically stifling with it's agoraphobic size, to look at the candid photos of this little resort made her heart flutter in ways formerly reserved for handsome men.

Ski slopes pocked with white-dusted pines, rustic cabin lodges with amazing views of the snow capped mountains, depictions of happy couples sipping hot chocolate by roaring fireplaces - it was all unbelievably gorgeous. And, once she looked at the prices (helpfully, they bundled in the cost of plane tickets) and the small balance that remained from her student loan, she didn't hesitate to book a stay for two. Anywhere but here, she remembered thinking - but she was eager to take her first adult vacation, too.

Rightly, she assumed that a vacation would be ideal for both herself, and for Ace. An opportunity to escape the manipulative clutches of mom, dad's apathy, the cornfield of Midwestern Americana, and the intense contempt that boiled all throughout the house. She wasn't sure if it would solve all of their woes, but really, Clover didn't think anything short of a miracle would reconcile Ace and mother.

But it would be an escape; a week away from the hell of normal life. With the excitement of a little girl, she envisioned whizzing down the slopes, Ace close by. Vividly, she saw how form-fitting Ace's skiing suit was - clinging to every toned nuance of his body. Any time she acknowledged her brother's physique, she was stricken by a moment of shame, a longer moment of what if?, and then, ultimately, she dismissed the notion; now was no different.

Besides, Ace was just handsome; there was no shame in admitting that, even if they were brother and sister. Right? Right.

Right...

--4

Ace opened the door and trudged through, closing it amidst defeated sobs from mother downstairs. He'd won the fight, but he certainly didn't feel very good about it; after all he'd been through in the last few months, crushing mother was a hollow victory, even after all her pestering and meddling.

Padding across the bedroom with heavy steps, ignoring Clover as she slid off her headphones and looked up at him, he plopped in the desk chair, and he started to thumb through the pamphlet he'd received about his future career in law enforcement. The numb look on his face said everything; he wasn't reading the pamphlet. His eyes may have been scanning over the words, and in some fashion, he was parsing all of it, but he was too anxious, too upset, too damn-near physically sick to comprehend it after the fight with mother. It was just something to do.

"Hey," Clover said. She was lying on her belly, knees bent, feet pointed up towards the ceiling. Old habit of hers to lie like that with her computer.

"Not now," Ace grunted. His voice was numb and weak - and Clover, therefore, didn't acknowledge his dismissal.

"I have something for you," the vixen insisted.

"Unless it's a gun to kill myself with," Ace sighed, "I don't think I want it."

Clover smoothly rolled over, sat up, twisted, and then stepped off the bed and onto her feet. Quietly padding over to her brother, she hugged him from behind, giving him no choice but to accept it, and within a few seconds, he lay the back of his head on the modest swell of her chest, held taut by a t-shirt and a bra underneath. "I have something you're gonna like," she pushed, and to further ply Ace, she stroked through the dark locks of his hair; ordinarily combed with vanity into something handsome but reserved, it was instead a haphazard mop, probably the result of him running his paws through it too much in idle stress.

Clover had the uncanny ability to bring Ace calm under even the worst of circumstances; it was a mutual ability, in fact. They felt that very little could truly harm either of them, so long as they had each other. Ace's presently foul mood was no exception, and with a more relaxed tone, he said, "What is it, sis?"

"Guess," Clover grinned. "Here's your clues. A plane ticket, skiing, and hot chocolate."

Five seconds came and went, Ace rubbing his chin thoughtfully throughout, before snapping his fingers. "You bought me a mail-order Swiss bride," he said, triumphantly.

Clover nipped his ear and laughed. "No," she then deadpanned. "A vacation."

Ace's ears perked at once, and he squirmed out of Clover's embrace just to turn his head and look her in the eyes. "How'd you--?"

"The rest of my student loan," she interrupted.

"Where--?"

"Colorado," the vixen interrupted again, smiling.

"Would you stop--?"

"Cutting you off?" Clover smooched her brother's nose sweetly. "Never."

Ace rolled his eyes, but then he glanced out the window, somewhat wistfully. "Colorado, huh," he mumbled, rubbing his chin again. "Could be fun."

"That's what I thought," Clover said, moving back to her bed. "Our flight's in a couple of days. I figured the sooner you and I got out of here for awhile," she paused, and continued in a conspiratorial whisper, "and away from mom..." She spoke more casually again, "The better."

Ace chuckled dryly. "Let's start packing, then, huh?"

--5

Getting through the airport had been a frustrating ordeal, but it wasn't nearly as taxing as telling mother and father where their children were going for a week. Again came the old mantra that they spent far too much time together - the biggest bombshell was mother telling Ace that, had he taken Leela on such a trip, they'd still be together.

Revealing that Clover had funded it didn't make things any better. It actually seemed to make it all much, much worse. Then, not only was the trip an example of their unnatural closeness, but it was also unfathomably stupid. Would it be this stupid if I had paid for it? Ace thought at the time.

But, in the end, they got the blessing to go. Clover convinced mother and father (and even Ace) that they were all spending too much time together since college let out. More of a diplomat than her brother, she told them that she and her brother would unwind with skiing and sightseeing, and that having the house to themselves would let mother and father similarly unwind. Amazingly, it worked. They agreed to let the siblings go without incident or ultimatum.

After all of that, getting through the airport terminal with its' gropes, x-rays, and confusion was simple. Enduring a flight where they were saddled in different rows of seats and on opposite sides and ends of the plane was trivial. It was easy even for Clover, whose fennec ears were a constant source of discomfort in the varying pressure of the airplane. It was all preferable to dealing with mother's breakdowns.

Once the plane finally landed, Ace and Clover caught back up with each other, and they took the shuttle bus to the ski resort. The two of them were tired and sore, but they both felt an almost palpable high which being away from home brought. It was the first time they'd actually been out on their own, out from under mother's thumb. That high carried them all the way up to their cabin; when they stepped through the front door, Clover was in heaven.

"Oh my god," she emotionally gasped, covering her mouth. Every one of her features exhibited amazement at the phenomenal beauty of the cabin, which she slowly paced through.

Even Ace was awestruck by what they saw, and his cynicism made it hard to be impressed.

Hardwood floors were all around, matching the walls, the enormous support timbers, and the peaking ceiling. A full kitchen with marble countertops and windowed cabinets waited off to the right of the door; inversely, to the left and down a few steps, was a den close to the corner fireplace. Curling around the far corner of this small den was a large, comfortable sofa, and a few feet before the fireplace (which burned lowly, apparently lit by the staff before the pair arrived) was a plush rug.

Off toward the rear of the cabin was another den with another fireplace, that one dormant, and two-thirds of the rearmost wall was thick, spotless glass. Through this window (which Clover cutely put her paws and nose up to) was an incredible view of the snow capped peaks, down which specks of people skittered and slid. Adding to the atmosphere, a fine, powdery snow fell, blowing this way and that, giving the world outside the cabin window a snowglobe appearance.

"This is beautiful," Clover cooed. "I'm already glad we came here."

"Me too," Ace quietly agreed, standing close to his sister's side.

The vixen pulled back from the glass, and she turned to face Ace, a coy smile on her lips. "You hear that?"

Ace's ears perked. "Hear what?" he asked, turning his head away.

Clover giggled sweetly and set a paw on his shoulder; there, she squeezed and idly rubbed. "Exactly."

The tod turned back to Clover, and he queerly narrowed his eyes at her.

Clover grinned and prodded her brother's nose. "You don't hear mom," she finally said.

"Oh. ...Heh, you're right. Weird. I can actually hear my own thoughts now." Ace grinned coyly, and he looked out the window. "And you know what I'm thinking?"

"What's that?"

"I think we need to go skiing."

--6

Neither fox had any experience skiing; the most either of them saw of the snow was in the winter back home, when Ace would have to shovel it. (Clover never lamented not being asked to help with that.) Of the two of them, it was Clover who picked up on the basics more quickly, but to say she was any more skilled than Ace was a lie. Almost as frequently as her brother, she caught her skis in the snow and flopped over; she left face- and butt-prints all the way down the bunny slope.

On one occasion, they both managed to make it to the bottom of the bunny slope well ahead of the other rookies, but stopping had proved troublesome. In a panic, Clover hurled herself into Ace, shrieking and giggling almost maniacally; by the time they tumbled to a stop together, tossing up a mushroom cloud of billowing snow, they both had the wild giggles, and they cutely wrestled in the snow before Clover emerged victorious, straddling Ace and pulling on his whiskers.

One of the staff (they could've been considered both trainers and referees, keeping the skiers safe, checking for injuries, and offering advice) trudged close, wearing a grin on his face. He was a tiger, and that was abundantly clear from the spotted-orange colors of his tail, which was the only thing exposed, besides his rugged face, in his skiing suit. Tall and muscular, he was larger than Ace, and he consequently dwarfed Clover - and made her subtly blush. "Having fun, newlyweds?"

"Uh?" Ace stammered, slowly sitting up in the snow. This put him in a very intimate position with Clover, nearly chest to chest, already crotch to crotch; apparently realizing the same, the vixen quickly clambered up off of him.

"You two are honeymooners, right?" the tiger asked, putting his paws on his hips; the skintight material of his suit creaked as it flexed, and his genitals were an uncomfortably thick outline for Ace, less so for Clover. His eyes, though authoritative, were lent a casual charm for the neon-blue goggles he had on. "Boy, girl, same last names on the suits," he chuckled, "and you were being awfully friendly in the snow, there."

Ace fidgeted and flushed, hurriedly pushing himself up to his feet. He shook the snow off of his suit, and then wagged his tail clean of the powder. "Well, we weren't, um--,"

"We're not on a honeymoon," Clover blurted, unhelpfully.

The tiger nodded slowly. "Well, a vacation is good for any marriage... You certainly picked the right time of year to come here."

Ace and Clover exchanged nervous glances. In their brief meeting of eyes, they said a lot to each other, but it boiled down to do we really seem like we're a couple?

Ace took point; he decided it would be painfully awkward if they actually came clean, and he wrapped his arm around Clover's body, under her arms. Holding her so close was nothing new, but he was stricken by how the suit clutched her breasts and made them pop; how warm she was against him, even in the cold and through those insulated skiing suits. "Yeah - well, we'd been dealing with a lot of stress at home," Ace nonchalantly said.

The tiger chuckled, and he shook his head. "Let me guess - the kids? As young as you two look, I'd say they can't be more than a year old. Trust me. It does get worse from here, but when they're finally out on their own, you'll feel proud."

"Yes, we needed a break from the kids," Clover said, quietly, and she smiled thinly to Ace.

Ace grinned back and chuckled, and he squeezed Clover a little bit closer. "They pretty much control our lives," he added, looking into Clover's eyes.

"I hear that," the tiger laughed. "You two have fun, all right? And good luck with your little tyrants when you get home!" And with that, he was already walking off.

When the tiger was out of earshot, Ace and Clover collapsed into the snow, laughing and snorting, kicking and squirming, leaving an orgy of erratic snow angels.

"That was weird," Clover said into Ace's ear, slumping in the snow beside him.

"Tell me about it," Ace mumbled, rolling onto his back. He looked up at the sky, gradually shifting from the inviting aqua of daytime to the pinks and reds of sunset; they'd been playing in the snow all day, and yet it seemed like only minutes had passed. He turned his head and looked at Clover, and he smiled at the vixen.

"What?" she asked, smiling back, but uncertainly.

"I'm enjoying this. You had a good idea." The tod stood, dusted himself off again, and then he pulled Clover up. "Come on, let's go back to the cabin. I'll make us some hot cocoa."

--7

Clover looked in at the piping-hot contents of her mug with a wistful smile; bobbing up and down in the dark-hued cream were tiny marshmallows, and it took her back to being a little girl. It was many Christmases ago that she'd first had hot cocoa next to Ace in front of the tree. Here, they sat not in front of a Christmas tree, like they had those years ago, but a fireplace; it was close enough to inspire nostalgia. The snow had begun to fall in full force again, and the dark blue night had settled in, but the fire burned steadily and kept them warm.

"How's your cocoa?" Ace asked, afterward taking a tentative sip of his.

"Too hot to drink," Clover grinned, and to demonstrate, she blew on it.

"Ow!, mine too," Ace winced, setting his mug down in the floor. He and Clover sat side-by-side, their outer thighs touching.

The tod had dressed in one of his usual nighttime getups; sweat pants, commando underneath, and no shirt. Clover had on panties and a nightie, but no bra. They felt natural like so; there was no bodily discomfort, no worries.

Ace had shown frayed nerves even taking his shirt off with Leela, though they'd stuck around together long enough for her to pop his cherry. He'd found it fulfilling, both sexually and emotionally; despite all he'd told mother, there was a time that he had genuinely loved Leela, but it had faded. When she threw him out and broke his heart, he picked up the pieces and moved on as simply as that. He made no attempts to get through to her. He left as easily as she made him leave.

Clover was always nervous around boys, and had demonstrated somewhat prudish sexuality. However, at the age of sixteen, she had gone along on a summer expedition with the local boy scouts as a means to earn both credit and a reference for her eventual foray into working with children. (Even then, that had been a fond desire.)

She was senior to all of the boys, who were each no older than twelve, no younger than eight, and they had adored her. The tomcat scoutmaster had adored her in more ways than that; though twenty-four years old, rendering his lust for the fennec illegal, they had a brief encounter together. It was just right for Clover; she carried no baggage away from her first time. Despite everything that should've made it uncomfortable for her (the age gap, most noticeably), she savored the experience. There was no coercion; they had both been willing, and they made love under a starry sky.

She never spoke of that night except to Ace, just once, and he was sworn to secrecy. They both knew how insane mother and father would have gotten over that. They would have done horrible things to that scoutmaster. (As Ace had joked a few years after the fact, the fact that the scoutmaster had sex with a girl and not one of his own boy scouts was the most surreal part of it all.)

Ace glanced at Clover. Sitting so close, he had little choice but to look down; though his target had been her face, he found himself perusing her chest, where pink nipples were evident through her thin nightie. The sight made him blush, and he looked away, just as she finally turned to look at him.

"S'wrong, Ace?" she gently inquired, laying her paw on his knee.

"I'm just thinking, that's all," the tod said, peering into the fire. Watching the flames dance and the embers stir was interesting to him in an almost primal way; he briefly wondered if it wasn't some harkening back to caveman days, the interest so many people seemed to have in simple fire. He knew he was on a strange tangent, but he welcomed it. It took his sister's breasts off of his mind.

Clover rested against Ace, her head on his shoulder, her arm wrapping around his naked torso. "What about?"

Ace resisted the urge to shake Clover off. Mentally, he chided himself for having taken that interested, longing look at her breasts, at her pert nipples. How he'd mentally compared Clover's breasts to those of his ex-fiance's. "Um, eh," Ace grunted, "stuff."

The vixen giggled and squeezed her brother tightly, and the paw that still lay on his knee rubbed in a small, idle circle. "Gee, who would have guessed you were thinking about stuff. Always stuff. Penny for your stuff?"

Ace grunted some small, animalistic reply. Not quite a growl, but something uttered in warning all the same.

"Ace, I love you," Clover apologetically said. "I'm just trying to have a little fun. Tell me what's on your mind?"

Another grunt.

"Please? Mom's not around to listen through our door. You can tell me whatever you want..."

The tod folded in upon himself, pulling his knees up to his chest, which he then hugged there. "Cut it out, Clover," he said in a morose tone.

Clover huffed and let her large, luxuriant ears sag on either side of her head. "I finally get you away from mom, and that's when you decide to get all grumpy and sad? I don't get it." She scooted away, and she lifted her cocoa; after dipping her tongue in it and finding it to be more comfortable, she enjoyed a drink of it with a reserved smile.

Ace looked over to his sister, watched her take a drink of her cocoa, and he saw her small smile. It was pleasure from the taste of the drink, he could see it, and seeing it made him feel some pleasure - but not enough to smile on his own. Worse still, he caught himself looking at her breasts again, and he harshly snapped his head away.

Clover took another small drink of her cocoa, and then she eyed Ace pensively. The only other time he'd ever been so standoffish towards her was that night, not long after he'd started getting his first erections, that she'd woken up and caught him masturbating. It had been such a scarring, damaging night for the both of them. To wake up hearing huffing and muffled moaning from her brother; getting up to see what was wrong; flicking on her flashlight, seeing that red rocket of his... She had stared right up until he started yelling at her. For the entire next week, he didn't talk to her. Clover never brought it up again - ever. It was a taboo of the highest order, but now, the hurtful silence came back, and audibly, she whimpered.

Ace looked over to the vixen, his uncertain lust and reflection dispelled by concern. "What's the matter? Sis?"

Clover waved at him in dismissal, and she sat facing the fire. "Maybe mom and dad were right about this being a mistake."

Ace couldn't say that was untrue, not with conviction. "Clover," he sighed, and then he let that die. It was hopeless. He stood up, and he went to rummage through the kitchen, while Clover brooded by the fire. Aimlessly, he looked around, searching through the cabinets, finding dishes and silverware, glasses, amenities like that.

Underneath the sink, the tod found something less pedestrian; booze. Large amounts of it. Ordinarily, Ace wasn't much of a drinker, and he knew not where his limits were. He knew for a fact that Clover had never had the stuff, but he decided that that night was a good time for her to start. Maybe if we both get a little buzz, he thought, I can clear the air, and we can laugh about it and be best friends again.

--8

"It smells like paint thinner," Clover winced, after sniffing the mouth of the bottle. It was vodka, potato juice.

Ace had no illusions of downing it unmixed; he chugged a few marshmallow-filled drinks from his lukewarm, untouched cocoa, and then he spiked the rich, chocolatey drink with better than three shots. He did the same to Clover's without asking, and then he stirred them with spoons.

After her brother's impromptu bartending, Clover lifted the mug to her lips, and she smelled the drink with a scowling face that showed imminent sickness. "Is getting drunk really a good idea?"

"It never is. Remember what grandpa always said." Ace smiled coyly, and he gently bumped his mug into Clover's. Then, he took a long, unsteady drink, and his face twisted into something distasteful. "Oh, god," he spat. "That tastes... Eugh."

"That good, huh?" Clover deadpanned, staring into her own drink. She sighed in resignation, and then she took a drink of her own. For her first time, she didn't think it was all that bad - but it really wasn't that good, either. Somehow, it combined the sweetness of chocolate with an acrid, indescribable bitterness. The drink lit her stomach up from inside with a fire, and her senses immediately heightened, before a gradual dulling took over. She knew she was blushing, she could feel it, and she felt hot, so she erroneously took another drink of her cocoa-plus.

"This was a really bad idea," Ace grunted, but he took another drink; he wasn't chugging the stuff like Clover was, however. She seemed intent on getting rid of it as quickly as he can, and it slipped the tod's mind to warn her that simply gulping the booze down was the best way to get utterly trashed. Really, being completely drunk hadn't been his goal; he just wanted to be tipsy, and he was indeed getting there.

Inversely, Clover set down her emptied mug, stared at the fire with remarkable intensity, and then she belched as if exorcising a demon. It resonated in the high peak of the cabin. "I think the vok-da is working," she said after a full ten seconds, post-belch.

"Vod_ka,_" Ace corrected.

"That's what I said," Clover insisted.

Ace didn't push the subject. He set down his half-emptied mug, and he then lay back on the rug. With just that small buzz, the tall and peaking ceiling was mesmerizing; like a 3D movie, the bracing timbers seemed to come at him from different depths as his eyes wildly switched focus between them. It was stimulating, but not sickening. "Hey," he mumbled, "Clover?"

"Mmm? Yeah?"

"Listen, part of the reason I wanted to talk to you," he sighed, "it's really awkward. I... I don't know how to begin."

Clover drank what was left of Ace's cocoa, and then, behaving unconducively to what he was trying to gently tell her, she straddled his hips and started to obnoxiously paw at his muzzle. "Then just tell me," she giggled, pulling on a whisker until he yelped in pain; she exhibited no remorse for it, but she did then stop.

Ace looked at Clover first with annoyance, and then with that uncomfortable lust. Tipsy and just uninhibited enough to irrevocably change things, he blurted, "I've been looking at your boobs all night."

Clover pursed her lips, and she seemed to retreat into a moment of deep contemplation - but that wild, drunken look never left her eyes. "You have?" she finally asked, her voice quiet.

"I... Yes," Ace grunted, closing his eyes tightly. "I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he hysterically whined. "Clover, you don't-- you have no idea how bad I--"

But Clover grabbed his muzzle, and she held it closed. In that moment, the brother and sister looked long and hard into the other's eyes. Though approaching oblivion off of her hastily-ingested liquor, Clover appeared calm. "Do you mean, like," she groped for words, as she unhanded Ace's muzzle, "in a dirty way?"

"Yes," Ace answered in a squeak of a voice.

"Okay," Clover acknowledged.

The silence that came and went was agonizing. Neither of them could seem to grasp what to do with their paws or their eyes, and Clover stayed perched atop Ace as she was.

Finally, it was the vixen that broke the awkward silence. "Sometimes," she started, shakily, "I look at your body, too. You're hot."

Ace looked away, blushing modestly. "Clover, right now, what's going on here? This scares me."

"Yeah," Clover drunkenly mumbled.

"We're proving mom and dad right. And all the rumors in the family..."

"Yeah," Clover repeated, fumbling with her paws.

"That we have sex..."

"Yeah," came Clover's twice-redundant reply. "You know, I haven't had any sex," she half-spoke, half-belched, "since I was sixteen years old."

Ace looked up to the peak of the ceiling again. "For me, not since Leela dumped me. So... About eight months ago," he shrugged.

While Ace distractedly studied the ceiling, Clover pulled her nightie up and off; with her modest breasts exposed to the chill air of the cabin, she lay both her paws upon his chest, and she idly massaged on the compact muscle tone of her brother's body. Drunk and uninhibited, a newly-found appreciation tinted her actions.

The tod looked down his sister's body again, and when he saw her fine, naked breasts, his eyes went wide and his pulse quickened. Her touch, her proximity, her hips on his - it was arousing. Shamelessly, hopelessly arousing, and his sheath started to swell behind the crotch of his sweat pants. "Oh, my god," he quaked.

"Ace, I love you," Clover said, desperation underscoring her words. She looked deeply into his eyes, and she leaned down low. Their lips met in a kiss. It was unsure, and perhaps unwanted, but it quickly deepened, going from something fueled by trepidation to love and lust freely mingling together.

Clover held the side of her brother's head in one paw, and she fervently stroked through the messy mop of his hair with the other. Her tongue swabbed deeply and crudely into his mouth, across his own tongue, his teeth, his palate; it was fascinating to explore something so taboo.

Ace kissed her back, deterred not by the taste of alcohol on her breath, nor the fact that she was his sister. He stroked through her short hair, over her enormous, tender ears, and he cupped a breast firmly, but not roughly. He savored her form, the beautiful curves of her small, fennec body; the disgust of the moment was drowned out by how absolutely right she felt against him.

The vixen's body fit Ace's paws like a glove, her breast sitting perfectly in the cup of his palm. Her hips, intimately straddling his, were the ideal width for their bodies to press flush together. Their smells and forms were very familiar to each other, and it was this familiarity that guided them; as Clover stroked through her brother's hair, Ace groped upon her chest with one paw and slid the other down her flank, where he took hold of her hip, dressed in simple, red panties.

Growling in intimate need, Clover ground her obscured pussy into the cylindrical outline of Ace's sheath, the pleasure of such dry-humping but a taste of what she really wanted. She twirled his hair around her fingers absently, over and over.

Ace's body quivered, his nipples swollen and stiff, his sheath engorging with blood. As intently as Clover ground down into him, he humped back into her, desperate to get his pants off, but not so desperate as to push Clover off. Primally, he was afraid that interrupting the moment even slightly would be enough to compel one of them to come to their senses - and he didn't want that. Even if he consciously knew it was all rotten pleasure, he wanted it in ways he couldn't describe.

Clover, much more far-gone than her brother in both inebriation and frustrated lust, continued to act as the catalyst Ace couldn't. She broke off the kiss, tongue slopping across her brother's lips as she did, and she gracelessly flopped to the side, landing on her cushy behind with a bump and a grunt. Panting and licking her lips, she hurriedly slid her panties down and off, exposing the damp mound of her cunt to the cool air of the cabin, and to Ace's intense, hungry eyes.

It simultaneously relieved and horrified Ace that the lust of the moment remained unbroken, and he questioned nothing; he dove between Clover's thighs with a throaty, lusting rumble and he attacked. The thinly-furred grin of her pussy lips was intoxicating in its' reserved beauty and how largely unmolested it was; never once had he caught her touching herself. He attributed it more to her simply being more covert than he was, rather than chastity, and yet the fact that he had never seen her naked crotch in adulthood made it all the more exciting to him now.

Ace didn't obsess over licking pussy like some men, nor was he opposed to it, but his interest in the act was generally passing. It was simply a part of foreplay, something he did out of care and consideration. That rang true with Clover, and yet, as he dragged his vulpine tongue across the fennec's cunt lips, unleashing her flavor, filling his nostrils and covering his taste buds with her unique pheromones, it began to matter to him very much. Ordinarily reserved and conservative with his laps, his taste was insatiable all at once. He slobbered hungrily all about the outer flesh, matting down the thin fur with viscous saliva, coaxing Clover to gasp and moan.

"Ooh, oh, gawd," the vixen drunkenly whimpered. Twice, she tried to sit up, and both times, she fell back onto the floor with a humorous thud. Finally resigning herself to being horizontal, the fennec reached down, fingers trembling, and she parted her folds to expose the pink wetness between. Before Ace's pinpoint-sized pupils, her tight cunt throbbed in invitation, dripping with its' native moisture. "Ace," she groaned, holding her cunt lips far apart.

The tod treated his sister's deep pink to a sudden lap, as if under coercion, attempting to do it and get it over with - but this, as with all the other stimuli his sister had been imposing upon him, only made the hunger yet more insatiable. He lapped again, and again, each swab leaving his tongue more thoroughly soaked in the fennec's juices.

"Yyyesss," Clover hissed, leaning back, grimacing in a grin-like way. "Lick me, lick me," she whispered so lowly that Ace couldn't even hear her, but the way he deepened his laps, and started to shove his tongue inside with them, made her think he had. Releasing her folds didn't dissuade the tod, because he then parted them himself, and his free paw found purchase on one of her pert breasts. "That feels really gooood," the vixen moaned, dragging out the word for unnecessary emphasis. "I think you're gonna make me cum..."

"A'rea'y?" Ace asked, not thinking to pull his tongue back; he absently acknowledged the fact that he literally couldn't get enough of her body.

"Yeah," Clover mumbled, repeating her favorite word that night.

The tod extracted his hot tongue, and he nuzzled into Clover's dampened cunt, looking at her saliva-smeared crotch with a queer mixture of guilt and satisfaction. "This is weird, sis," he mumbled.

"It really is," Clover said, surprising Ace by not saying yeah again. Absently, as she had before, she stroked his hair and twisted it around her fingers, unintentionally wiping a little moisture from her cunt off in his locks.

Ace took this relaxed petting as a cue to back off, that his sister was having second thoughts - justifiable ones, for sure, and he had them, too, but it was still disappointing. Still tasting his sister heavily on his breath, he flopped back on the rug.

Long seconds came and went, moments spent in awkward silence, amidst Clover's slightly labored breathing.

With a glance, Ace saw that she'd gone slack; passed out, in his eyes, and so he reached down, and he clutched the turgid length of his shaft with a soft shudder. Though still covered by the sweats, its' lump was glaringly obvious. I can't believe I'm hard from this, he thought, giving his cock a grope and a tweak. Whatever it was that was desensitizing him (expensive booze consumed cheaply, the catharsis of escaping mom, acting on years-old impulses with his sister, or a combination of the three), it was doing its' job well, and he felt the urge to masturbate. In the twilight of his buzz, and just on the event horizon of what would no-doubt be crippling guilt and discomfort from what he'd done so far with Clover, self-abuse seemed like the best option.

Clover lay still, half on the rug, half on the hard floor, and she drunkenly pondered. As wasted as she was, it was impossible to truly fathom the implications of what had happened so far and what could happen if they went any further, but she knew - it was fuzzy around the edges, but overall, a clear desire - that she wanted more. The way Ace had been slobbering on her, he wanted more, too; he just wasn't as liberated by the booze.

Wearily, but with determined eyes and the residual tingle of near-orgasmic bliss in her loins, Clover sat up and opened her mouth. She was going to tell Ace what she wanted, what she thought they needed, and she made exactly one syllable. It came out malformed by what she saw, twisted into a humorous slur, and it left her mouth in a stunned O shape. "Auh," she proclaimed.

She had never forgotten the first and only time she'd seen Ace's erect penis; she hadn't gotten a terribly good look, but she remembered the basic features. Reddish-white, narrow at the tip, a flared knot at the base - a textbook canine penis. Now, as she watched her brother carelessly jerking himself off, she was allowed to more intently study it, and as she did this, she leaned closer until she nearly loomed - but still without disturbing him, with his eyes closed.

The shaft was thick, and at a guess, she would've put it somewhere at seven inches - that wasn't including the knot. All things told, Clover rather liked it, and with no second thoughts, she smacked Ace's paw away and clutched the swollen flesh for herself.

Despite the fact that he'd been shamelessly masturbating, Ace gasped and flinched at Clover's sudden and rather hostile attention. His eyes popped open and looked into hers, catching them for just a second. Just from looking into them, he could tell she was thinking of saying something, and it would have no-doubt been lewd, but nothing ever came; she just clenched her eyes shut and descended on his manhood.

Clover had never actually given oral sex. Not to the scoutmaster, and therefore, not to anyone, but she knew the basics just from random, curious looks at internet porn and lewd jokes. Holding onto the thick knot at the base, she gulped and sucked, slobbering and bobbing on every inch of the thick, veiny shaft. Ace's sharp moans and whines told her she was on the right track; she supposed the latter could've been in trepidation or worry, but if so, she didn't suppose it bothered him that much.

"Oh, shit, ooh," Ace cooed, insistently humping up into Clover's sloppily-working muzzle, his face plastered into a grimace which kept his ears flat against his skull.

Just like her brother had, Clover was finding herself drawn into the sex as time went on. Her performance was driven by repressed lust and love, a desire to make her brother enjoy it as much as possible... And out of a yearning desire to get him off. To taste not just his release, but that of any man - what better man than her best friend, and her first choice for a lover, were laws and taboos not in the way?

Squeezing his knot, redoubling her suckles and laps, Clover hit what she hoped were all of the best spots, and she tirelessly worked her brother to gratification. The byproduct of her actions, the tod's bitter-salty pre, stained her taste buds with masculine flavor. The scent was musky, even more harsh than the raw vodka had been, and it affected her keen nose even from within, burrowing deep into her sinuses and setting its' hooks, making her all the more ready not just to love and please, but to fuck. Excess drool ran down the uniform length of the tod's cock, diffusing at the knot, soaking into the fur of his sheath and, lower down, his balls.

Ace rolled his eyes back into his head, and all thoughts of wrongness (and the related fears) were entirely suppressed by love, lust, and raw pleasure. "Oh, jeez," he dreamily cooed, feeling that orgasm coming, his balls tingling, his shaft throbbing. The special kind of loving and release that only a warm, wet muzzle could bring; the pleasure of oral sex. "I'm gonna cum soon, Clover," he said, whispering, but she could hear him; Ace knew that Clover's large ears could pick up even the smallest of sounds.

Minutes ago, Clover was content to gulp down her brother's seed; she'd seen the creamy white stuff in porn, heard obscene tales about it in high school (and to a lesser degree, college), and she'd felt the warmth of it deep in her body, with the scoutmaster those years ago. And though she longed to taste it, Ace's pre and musk had left her vulnerable to her hard-coded desires; she wanted to fuck. The consequences be damned, she wouldn't be satisfied unless she felt Ace release inside of her. That knot was unfamiliar to her in practice, but she knew what it was for; to keep lovers close. To keep the seed where it belonged. She was more interested in the former prospect.

Pulling back, letting Ace's manhood leave the humid depths of her maw, Clover felt as though something dear had just left her. Yet, when she straddled his uncomplaining form, the feeling abated; something much better was coming to her.

"Sis," Ace shuddered, but for what purpose, he didn't know.

"Shh," Clover shushed, putting her paws on his shoulders. "Just... No talking, okay?"

Ace nodded, pursing his lips, blushing brightly. The uncertainty lingered in his eyes, but he honored the vixen. He looked down to the spectacle of his pointed, red tip at the fennec's folds. Unease washed over him again, but, as if sensing it, Clover leaned down and kissed his lips.

Tasting what she presumed to be her own musk on Ace's lips was curious to Clover, but it was something to think about later; she knew what she wanted, what she was about to do. She and Ace were about to be closer than any brother and sister had any right to be. (When she thought about it, she realized they already were - and in defiance, she emboldened herself by deciding they might as well take it all the way.)

"I love you," Clover whispered, near-silent.

Ace didn't hear her, but he read her lips. "I love you too." A pause. "So much, Clover."

The vixen sighed - it sounded like a content, dreamy noise to Ace - and she began impaling herself. The alien figure of Ace's canine cock spread her open in ways that had grown fuzzy over the years, but were never forgotten, and she let loose with a long, cathartic moan, one that had spent years welling up inside of her. It was something more potent and gratifying than sexual release, if not as dumbly pleasurable. Sitting down on her brother's cock, however misguided, and however clandestine it would stay for all eternity, was - most crudely - the largest middle finger to mother and her tyranny that Clover could think of. Her poor, controlling parenting was what led to this; her babies fucking each other. Sober, the idea would have upset Clover, but drunk and horny, it made things so much better.

Ace admired how proudly Clover came to straddle him, how her spine arched and she expressed not an ounce of worry or discomfort as she settled upon his thick knot. She really wanted this, he thought - and just briefly, he felt a moment of guilt. The liquor - the fact that I brought up her breasts and the fact that I'm some fucked-up, incestuous pervert. Is she doing this just for me?

Unintentionally, Clover stopped Ace from chewing himself up. She leaned down and kissed him again, but not gently; it came with the suddenness and the same intense lust as her unannounced blowjob. She sucked on his mouth, lapping over his tongue, expressing a deeply-buried dominance that had always seemed largely mythical to Ace. As it came to be, she was very happy on top; as with so many things, it was impossible to tell if it was her nature or the result of her circumstances, but she ran with it.

Pinning the tod by the shoulders, Clover began bouncing, gasping and huffing in and around her brother's mouth, which she continued to violently lap and suck upon; Ace was returning her ravenous kiss as well as he could, but Clover had sheer energy on her side. It didn't matter. Her dominance in the kiss and the intercourse were accepted and enjoyed by Ace; in more ways than one, they fit each other like a glove, indeed.

The vixen's cunt noisily sucked and squirted on Ace's thick, satisfying manhood again and again, and each time she came down, always harder than the last time, her pussy was spread a little bit more by the dramatically curving edge of her brother's knot. Distantly, she knew that taking it in all the way would hurt, but that was nature's way; girls stretched. Everything happened for a reason. Then what makes a brother and a sister want to have sex? She shoved that away. It was dangerous logic at a moment which needed only lust to function.

Ace wriggled his way out of the kiss, and he panted harshly in Clover's face, who did just the same. Whimpers and moans were their most prominent vocalizations, yet Clover managed to rumble and growl, too. "Oh, goddamn," Ace grunted through grit teeth, his eyes clenched tightly, "gonna cum..."

"Mhm, me too," Clover grinned, her cheeks flushed, her ears flat. For a short time, as they both went quiet and tense for their mutually approaching orgasms, the only sound to cut through the air, drowning out the crackling fireplace, was the cacophony of wet splashes and sucks from Clover's pussy, clenching and spasming around Ace's thick manhood.

Both foxes tensed and grimaced, but it was Ace's climax that came first. He shot his thick, pent-up wad deep into his sister's body, digging into the carpet with his claws at the peak of the orgasm. His cry was loud and long, cutting through the largely still air of the cabin.

Spurred to finish up by Ace's dangerous load in her body, Clover pounded herself down into her brother as fast and as hard as she could. Each and every time, Ace's knot punched against her cunt, spreading it a little wider, slowly but surely forcing its' way in. Clover was dissatisfied with this slow pace; she felt her orgasm coming, a slow burn that would soon engulf her entire body in tingly bliss and render her useless, and so she decisively shoved herself down with all her strength. Ace's knot wedged into her with a strangled, wet suck, and she screamed, first in pain, but it evened out into a more steady, long cry as the orgasm hit. It filled her with intense warmth which, coupled with Ace's seed, made her feel hotter inside than all of the vodka she'd gulped down earlier.

The brother and sister both panted hard, inarticulately moaning and cooing the praises of all that pleasure and all that much-needed release. Clover leaned down over Ace, and he held her close; they kissed at random times and places on the other's muzzles, faces, and necks, always growling and moaning fondly, never talking. Words couldn't convey what they felt; they simply cherished the afterglow.

It was the first night they spent truly alone with each other. Away from the stresses of home and life, pressed close together where no harm could come to them. Isolated in a cabin on a snowy mountain, where their true feelings finally boiled over and consumed them in an inferno of raw lust and forbidden love; neither considered the future consequences. Neither cared. They could worry tomorrow; tonight, they just loved.

"I love you, Ace," Clover mumbled, pressing close to her brother, sleepily yawning.

"Love you too, Clover... I love you so much," Ace cooed, also yawning, and then he closed his eyes.