Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8292865.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Gotham_(TV)
  Relationship:
      jervis_tetch/alice_tetch
  Character:
      Alice_Tetch, Jervis_Tetch
  Additional Tags:
      Sibling_Incest, Non-Consensual_Voyeurism, Masturbation, Underage_Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-10-16 Words: 1995
****** isn't this a dream come true? ******
by mr_charles
Summary
     Jervis has always loved his sister.
Notes
     no beta
See the end of the work for more notes
 When Alice is born, Jervis is already a young lad. He is five years old, with
an uncanny ability to get his way. So when he asks for a baby sister, he gets
one. Alice is colicky and fussy. She only calms in her big brother’s arms.
 “She loves her brother,” Mother had cooed, smiling at her children.
 
 On Alice’s 13th birthday, she has a tea party. She lets Mother wrangle her
into a stiff and starchy dress, icy blue with a sterile white apron, and tie a
black ribbon in her hair. Jervis does magic tricks for her and her small gaggle
of girlfriends as they sip lukewarm tea and eat tiny cakes from the baker in
town.
 “Listen to the ticking…” Jervis had said slowly. “Let it match your
heartbeat…”
 Alice sees her friends’ eyes becoming cloudy and dazed as they sway in their
chairs. She feels her own heartbeat slow and her brother’s voice is soft and
warm in her ears. She wants to do whatever he asks.
 He makes the girls dance and throw cakes at each other.
 
 Mother is not happy with the frosting and jam smeared on Alice’s birthday
dress. She scolds Alice in the small bathroom, smacking her hands and telling
her she’s too old to be making messes like that.
 “It was Jervis,Mother!” Alice protests, even as Mother wrestles the dress over
Alice’s head, leaving her standing in nothing but her slip and her stockings.
 “How is Mrs. Watson going to get these stains out, Alice?” Mother demands,
shaking the stained dress in front of Alice’s nose. “Do you know what this
dress cost?”
 Alice pouts and crosses her arms over her chest.
 “Get in the bath, Alice,” Mother demands. “And don’t come out of your room
until I’ve talked to your father about this.” She turns on her heel and leaves
Alice standing alone in the bathroom.
 
 She sits in the tub with her arms looped around her skinny knees, grumbling to
herself.
 “You shouldn’t be making messes, Alice,” she snarks to nobody. “You’re too
old, Alice. Whatever.” She sighs and stretches her legs out, wriggling bubbles
between her garishly painted toes.
 Somewhere behind her right temple, she hears a soft exhale. But she turns and
sees nothing but the pristine tile and a few droplets of water. Out of her
peripheral vision, she sees a hand dip into her bath to brush her ankle. But
when she jerks her leg away from the intruder, she sees that there’s nobody
there.
 She allows herself to relax into the warm water, closing her eyes and enjoying
the smells of her mother’s stolen bath oils. But she hears the sound again— a
rough groan and a sharp inhale. She ignores it, sinking lower into the
bathwater and feeling her heartbeat slow as she calms down.
 But when she closes her eyes, she sees quick flashes. At first, they come too
quickly for her to see what they are. But then she sees her toes— bright and
glittered— being tickled and kissed, long dark hair trailing over the smooth
tops of her feet. She can feel phantom fingers ghosting the backs of her knees
and the pull of stubble on the sensitive skin of her thighs.
 She squirms to escape the sensations but can’t seem to open her eyes to make
them stop. She feels wet kisses on her belly and the pressure of a hand on her
small breast. She sees flashes of men and women in all kinds of positions,
stretched and contorted in pleasure. She thrashes in the water, trying to get
the images and sensations to stop. She clamps her knees together as her heart
speeds up. Finally when she feels her heart is about to burst, she hears a
word, just one.
 “Alice.”
 
 Her bath water is going cold by the time she calms down. She reflects on the
images that Jervis put in her mind, the things he thinks about her. With
shaking hands, she drains the tub and quickly yanks her nightgown over her
head. He tries to comfort her as she emerges from the bathroom.
 “Alice,” he sighs, his own pajamas rumpled, as if they were thrown on in a
hurry. “I am so sorry.”
 She freezes, thinking he’s going to apologize for what she saw.
 “If I would have known Mother would punish you that way, I would have done
another trick for you and your friends.”
 She looks at him, his arms open in apology and awaiting her hug. Instead she
pushes past him and goes into her bedroom. She makes sure the door is locked,
and even props her vanity chair in front of the door for safety. Mother comes
and fetches her hours later and tells her that Father forgives her for ruining
her party dress.
 “Jervis talked to him,” Mother sneers. “Your father said he’ll buy you two new
dresses in Gotham tomorrow morning.”
 
 Shortly after Alice turns 15, she finds out what her blood can do. She slices
her thumb while cutting up berries for a summer punch. Father chuckles and
offer to kiss the wound better.
 Within the hour, he’s taken Alice’s kitchen knife and murdered Mother. He
turns the knife on himself as Alice watches hopelessly, blood dripping from her
thumb.
 While the police wrap her parents in sheets and cart them off, Alice sobs into
Jervis’ arms. She can almost ignore his kisses to the top of her head and his
murmurs of “my Alice”.
 
 First they sell the silver. And then the china. Followed by the pearls and the
diamonds. Finally, they sell the house. Alice gets a job at the grocery store
in town and Jervis gets a job at a club in Gotham. Neither pay much but it’s
enough to keep them in their tiny apartment, a cramped thing with thin walls
and rattling windows.
 But the bathroom door comes with a deadbolt, a rusted piece of metal that
feels like it could be crushed under even Alice’s small hands. Yet Alice slides
the bolt into place whenever she uses the bathroom— even if it’s just to brush
her teeth.
 
 
 What Alice doesn’t know is that the tattered wallpaper hides more than just
dented plaster and the occasionally odd stain. There is a hole, no bigger than
a coin, carved out of the wall, with the other side being Jervis’ bedroom. If
Jervis bends to press his eye against the hole, he can see the entirety of the
room, albeit with frayed wallpaper in his vision.
 
 He remembers the night of her 13th birthday, where he had to fill in the
blanks of what her skin looked like under her party dress. Now, as she prepares
to shower after a long day at the grocery store, he can map every inch of her
skin. He knows the constellation of freckles on her tender hip, reddened and
marked by the elastic of her plain panties. He chuckles to himself as she
twists to unhook her simple white bra and longs to help her unclasp it himself.
 The hole he peeps through is close to the large mirror and he watches as Alice
twists and turns, looking at her nude reflection. She is almost 17, and perfect
in every way. He slowly reaches into his slim trousers as Alice touches her
small breasts. Her touch isn’t sexual, more like she’s analyzing her body. She
frowns as her hands cover her flesh and she twists so she can look at her
backside. She seems satisfied with that part of her body as she shrugs and
turns the shower on.
 
 Sometimes Jervis thinks of hypnotizing her into putting on a show like this
for him. There’s so much he could make her do, let him do. It wouldn’t take
much, he muses, gripping his cock. A whisper in her ear while she sleeps and
the following night, she’ll find herself walking into his bedroom.
 “Alice!” He’ll act shocked and ask what she’s doing.
 “I know you look at me,” she’ll say quietly, fiddling with the buttons on her
nightgown. He won’t try and stop her as she pulls the fabric from her
shoulders. He imagines she wears nothing underneath. “I want you to look at
me,” she’ll say, turning to expose herself to him.
 Jervis presses his forehead to his bedroom wall and groans as he imagines his
sister all for himself. He knows she’s never been kissed, never been seen. He
imagines Alice looping her arms around his neck and clumsily pressing her lips
to his, his whisper having sent her into a fever dream.
 “Jervis…” she’ll whine against his lips. “I want…”
 He imagines she’ll hiss in pleasure as he puts his hands on her slim hips,
roughly grinding himself against her. She’d wriggle and cry out, pressing
herself against him. Jervis strokes himself faster to the thought of gripping
the soft flesh of her ass, and how she’d coo and flush in his arms.
 “Patience, sweet sister,” he would whisper into her skin as she tried to pull
his clothes off. She would pout like she used to all those years ago and he
would smile as he led her to his bed.
 “Please,” she would whine, rubbing her legs together while her small hands
played at her breasts. “Touch me, Jervis.”
 He’s never been able to deny his sister anything, not even as a child. So of
course he would situate himself between her knees, like he dreamt of doing all
those years ago.
 Of course he bends to kiss the tender wetness he finds between her legs.
 Of course he lets her twine her fingers in his hair, her back bowing as he
pleasures her.
 Of course he doesn’t stop until her moans turn into a scream that he hopes the
neighbors can hear.
 He would only stop when she’s reduced to stuttering out his name, limp against
his sheets. He would only stop when her breathing is ragged and there are tears
staining her cheeks. When she looks utterly and completely fucked, but her eyes
are still dark with lust.
 
 He’s so close to coming that he has to stop himself. He sighs deeply as he
hears Alice hum over the thin rush of the shower. It’s some old pop ditty she
loved when she was younger. He imagines she’d hum the same ditty idly, grinning
as she watches him undress. Her hands would be so soft and unsure as he guided
them to touch him.
 “Is this how to do it?” she’d ask, eyes wide and worried.
 “Darling,” he would groan, “you’re doing it perfectly.”
 He would notice the traces of fear in her eyes as she stroked him.
 “Is it…” she would pause her hand and blush, looking downwards. “Will it fit?”
 
 The creak of the shower turning off startles Jervis out of his fantasy. He
peers through the hole again and sees Alice wrapped in a threadbare towel,
brushing her teeth and dancing slightly in time to the strokes of her
toothbrush. She hops on one foot to get clean panties on and haphazardly throws
her nightshirt over her head before brushing her hair out.
 “Jervis!” she calls out. “The bathroom is free if you need it!”
 He sighs, hand damp around his softening cock. He can hear her walking towards
his room and quickly he buttons up and throws himself into his chair, trying to
look like he was just reading an old book.
 “Come in!”, he says when she knocks.
 “I didn’t know if you heard me,” she says quietly, damp hair darkening her
nightshirt, “but the bathroom is free if you need it.”
 “Alice,” he says, straightening in his chair, “come here, please.” He catches
her little eye roll but she walks towards him anyway. He takes her hands in his
and gently kisses the thin skin of her inner wrists, right above her poisonous
veins. “Sleep tight, sweet sister.”
End Notes
     -how much oingo boingo is too much oingo boingo
     -katy, it's time to sin
     -y'all are slackin' on the jervis/alice train
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elled down her thigh and up her skirt, teasing
between her thighs once more, she blushed and pushed him away.
“I’m going to stay the night tonight with Ari, but… if you need me, feel free
to call.”
Eames grinned as she smoothed her skirt and opened the door. “I’ll be sure to
call you if your services are needed, darling.”
Arthur gave him a sultry smirk and grabbed her purse. “Good night, Mr. Eames.”
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