a/n - I have a conflict of interest with this fic. Anyhow, it was originally meant to be written for the omgjustinalex kink meme lj prompt – magic made them do it. As you can see, I spectacularly failed to make it even remotely kinky. This is incest and vague adult concepts and if that makes you squicky, please dont read. Set after the movie.
Dedicated to Alice in Juin. For being the best cheerleader ever. Without her encouraging words, this would have continued languishing in my blackhole of a fic folder.
this house of collapsed cards.
Today is the seventh day after the winter solstice and according to the book of witch lore; it's the day when anyone who possesses magical powers will be bereft of them for the next twenty four hours.
(It's like having a vital part of you missing. Like maybe your heart or your other half.)
Alex finds out by accident in the morning when she can't even summon her jacket from all the way upstairs and has to actually—gag— walk there to get it.
Justin of course knows that today is the day when his powers are non-existent and when Alex comes down and grumbles about it, he monotonously recites what he has said only about fifty times before.
"You are telling me only now?" she asks, exasperated at not knowing this detail. Geez, she would have begged off school then. Now she will actually have to do work and Alex Russo's one motto in life— coast by on whatever you've got because work is for the losers will be proved wrong. Or why do the work when you know you have an elder brother who will pick up the slack for you, regardless. Whatever floats your boat. She personally prefers the second one you know.
"This would be the fifty first time," Justin pleasantly informs her and she rolls her eyes at him.
"Yeah, you were so annoying the first fifty times, I just had to tune you out. Blah blah blah." And she turns around to smirk at him but there's no Justin because he's already out of the door and all of a sudden, Alex feels a little alone.
(Is she trying too hard to regain what they've lost? Or is he is not trying enough? Their conversations feel strangely empty, like they are mechanical and missing something so vital.)
The rest of day passes in an endless cycle of boredom. Magic is a vital part of Alex. It's what makes her feel alive and throbbing, sparking at the tips of her fingers, being the force that pumps through her veins. Without it, she feels hollow and empty. She needs someone to fill the void.
And naturally she gravitates to Justin. Whenever she needed something, she'd always go to him. (Because it's faith that Justin will stop the whole world for her if he has too. She has no doubts about it. Whatever they are and whatever they will be, he'll always be there for her.)
But today, the pull is so strong. Like there's something calling, a siren's song and Alex can't help but move. And the further away Justin goes, the closer she needs to be to him.
She doesn't just want to be with near him though. She wants to hold him in her arms and hear the steady rhythm of his breathing as well as the comforting tattoo that his heart beats against his chest.
She wants to envelope him within her entirely and meld with him.
(It's wrong, it's wrong, it's wrong but since this summer, when has everything ever been right? It was a pack of cards and it collapsed.)
She corners him in the hallway of their house, in the evening after dinner when everybody is slowly trudging to bed and her feet wont seem to take her towards her own room.
She's been following him all day but just maybe Justin knows where this will lead, and how it will end and so he keeps running, however futile it may be, just to stave off the inevitable for a little longer.
"You cant avoid me Justin," her voice is shaking and quavering and know that even though she's the one making the move here, it doesn't make her feel any less scared. (Or fucked up.)
He's the one that backs her into a wall now and as he places his palms flat on either side of her head, she can almost taste him. The fear, the self-loathing and maybe even love. But as always, it's only the last emotion that she sees and she can only feel it the slightest because self-loathing overwhelms everything else.
"There's a reason Alex. Don't push it." He's pleading almost, his eyes tired and gaze weary. A burden so heavy sits on his shoulders that sometimes she wishes that she could take it all away.
But then where would she put it?
(Her own shoulders already bear a burden big enough and even if she wanted to take it—and she gladly would—she can't, because he won't let her. He'll always be her brother first, despite whatever else he feels.)
But she presses on because there's a reason she doesn't know the word stop or its meaning. The word, it stands between her and so many things and naturally she's learnt to not take note of it.
But this time, she's taking note and there's an internal battle inside of her that's tearing her apart. Her want and her need versus her reluctance, stemming from the would be consequences.
And in the end, it's the want and need that wins because she finds herself slowly extending a shaking hand and brushing clammy fingertips down the side of his face. She needs Justin and now nothing else in the world matters.
Because she was already damned from the day she started thinking of how it would be, to raise her face to hers' and feel his soft and slightly dry lips against hers.
He sighs into her hand and tilts his head ever so slightly.
Pale moonlight filters in through the window and it's like pixie dust is floating in the air.
Magical things and magical beings were always creatures of the night.
The walls hold enough secrets but the moonlight strips them naked and Justin and Alex shrink away from the light, afraid of what the light might uncover, things they have so far been turning a blind eye to.
Because what you can see in the light is that much more concrete and that much more wrong.
He takes her into his room where there's no light and in the darkness, Alex sighs a little and slips into his arms. In this bleak black world, Justin is her only anchor and the dark night doesn't judge them for who they are and what they want to be.
His hands slide upwards from her waist and clasp her face, turning it up to his. She can't see his eyes but she can imagine what they look like. Murky grey and glazed and she takes the first step, once again, because she doesn't want him to bend double with burdens anew.
But he slides a finger under a chin and stops her. His voice is gentle and painfully low.
"You don't have to Alex. It's my job to protect you. I love you." The last sentence is released with a pained shuddering sigh and Alex feels something inside her stomach clench.
What makes him think that he's all alone? For all the pranks and all the bullshit, she'll cross the seven seas for him if she has to.
So this time, she shows him.
Because she loves him too.
Oh god, yes she does.
Their first kiss is nothing gentle and nothing romantic. It's harsh and hard and there's so much pent up feeling behind it. And maybe it's also a little bit desperate because the night doesn't last for ever and the morning won't hide sins or scars.
And from there, it all goes to hell.
Her hands move feverishly up and down, running over planes of flesh sprinkled with soft hair. But two hands don't seem enough for all the want that is collecting inside of her. It's inadequate but sort of fulfilling at the same time.
His one hand tangles in her hair, wrenching it sometimes but never painfully and another one grips the side of her hip and flutters under shirt and draws patterns on tingling smooth skin.
They fall on his bed and legs tangle while clothes end up in heaps on the floor.
This is now and this moment might never come again so they are desperate to savour every minute of it.
His head dips and tastes the hollow of her throat and sweat pooled in there and a moan escapes her mouth because this is how she dreamt it would be.
His head dips lower and places hot fervent imprints against the smooth curve of her breast, against flushed pink skin and she arches into him, wanting to close the distance and minimize the warm ache pooling inside of her.
At that point of time, she loses her ability to think. Everything is a haze of pleasure and there's some pain and Alex, vaguely feels like she's floating because Justin's kisses now are feather light and soft and every prick of pleasure running through her body feels so fucking beautiful.
She peppers his face with kisses and lovingly smoothes away his hair and revels in the freedom she has this night. To show what she feels every moment of her waking life is something she never thought she could. Brimming emotions and all of them tinged with love.
And then it comes. Slowly and softly, taking her up to a higher place where everything is bright flashing lights and dizzying colours and full of joy. It hits a crescendo when she reaches there and when she falls back softly, she falls in warm arms and on sweaty skin and never has anything felt more beautiful than this.
This is it.
She wakes up before the rays of the morning sun hits her skin and she listens to the beating of his heart. It's tortured and slow and yet unfailing it continues.
Is it a metaphor for them she wonders?
She peeks through her lashes and looks up at his face and way the corners of his mouth crease as he thinks about something. She knows that he knows that she's awake. But she feels that if she says anything aloud, she's somehow tainting the atmosphere and then the smooth silence between them will dissolve and morph into something heavy and clogging.
So she's content to lie here and just revel in the feeling.
Now she's fully dressed and she can see the dawn breaking and even a few stars faintly twinkling. It's a clear sky and it's beautiful but the sight inspires no calmness except maybe a tragic sense of emptiness. He's sitting beside her and his head is held in his hands. She leans her head against his shoulder and slides her arm through the crook of his elbow, entwining her fingers with his. Hot tears fall on her hands and there's not a sound that can be heard except for the chirps of crickets.
She's not shedding any herself but there's this tightly compressed feeling in her chest, like she can't breathe at all and she supposes that the heavy ache in her chest is all the tears she's shedding for all that will never be.
She then rises up wearily and places a soft kiss on his hair.
Her goodbye echoes softly through the room and then as soon as she leaves, the sun breaks through flooding the room with light.
There are no scars that the morning uncovers but Alex does realize rather dispassionately that there are some sins you bear alone like crosses on your back.
And when her eyes meets Justin's over breakfast, filled with some kind of emptiness that resonates within her gut and echoes through her clammy fingertips when she reaches out to touch him, she also knows one more thing.
Some crosses you'll bear forever.
