Phoebe gasped when her back was pinned to her bed, lips aligned with hers in rhythm of nailing her hips to whoever he was (she was certain she was kissing a male). Hands slithered to her hips and dragged her short dress down, exposed her bare thighs, including her favorite blue panties.
The same hands wove upward, cupping her breasts and squeezing softly, causing her back to arch and an inevitable moan to escape her lips. She felt fabric over her face, her bra already unclasped on its discarded descend to the floor, feeling dry air wisp away at the smooth surface of her breasts.
It was so dark she couldn't make anything out, including the 'Tom Holland' cut out she vowed to discard a month ago.
Disregarding the unimportant things for now, Phoebe managed to hoist herself up, cupping a somewhat ocular jaw her hands somehow located and initiated a sensuous kiss, all in the while hearing the fumbling of something akin to unzipping.
She retracted for the reclamation of air into her lungs, immediately feeling the tell tales of lips on her breast, something warm, wet and soft gradually circling her nipple compelling her to bite the innards of her mouth in efforts to contain the immeasurable pleasure she felt bubbling within her.
Alternatively, she rocked and grinded her hips into his, shuddering when she felt the raging hardness threatening to escape its confines as it faintly stabbed against her pelvis.
A wet trickle trailed along her thigh, and she acknowledged why because she wanted it so badly, she wanted him so badly.
"Its time, I want you inside me... claim me and make me yours."
Her pupils slightly dilated, trying to adjust her unestablished lover. Phoebe gasped from a diminutive squeeze of her left breast, the hand dragging between the navel of her breasts, finding its way down her stomach all as an excuse to rid her of her panties that now dangle at her feet, falling to the floor to be forgotten.
She released a dire breath when her legs were separated, heart fluttering out of anticipation, opposing the sweat responsible for the passionate gliding of flesh against flesh.
A raging presence met the opening to her clitoris which invitingly moistened having sensed the erect cock.
"..Phoebe."
The groan birthed cautiousness inside her, but she ignored it, just like she ignored all the blaring alarms that tried to warn and make her aware of who the hunk above her was.
"Go on, I'm ready."
And deeper it went - all in one thrust and Phoebe was in bliss, trembling hands bouncing off of a wetly muscled back. Her grasp firm as the single thrust became countless and countless more.
She clenched her eyes shut and wrapped her legs over the voluptuous waist which moved in rhythm against her own as they union-ed in perfectly matched harmony. She wanted more, so much more of the feeling that she buckled her hips encouragingly into his each time he returned to gift her with the pleasures of love.
She opened her eyes, peering hard enough to acknowledge similar eyes to her own, filled with leering temptation looking down at her, including the scruffy brown hair, and the unmistakably turn-on smirk.
Phoebe pulled the face down and mellowed into a much needed kiss to amplify the lovely atmosphere. She firmed beneath him, clenching her eyes as his thrusts became relentless, too much for her to contain as she felt her oncoming release.
"M-Max!"
xXx
Phoebe bolted up in shock, her chest a thunderous victim to her thumping heart, eyes wide, darting around in disbelief, cheeks crimson with warmth, holding a hand to her chest.
Thinly recomposing herself, her hand involuntarily crept down her pajama pants and felt the wetness associated with her dreams and her placated arousal. She didn't think twice as she darted for the bathroom.
xXx
She couldn't face him, nor have the courage to be in one room with him or cordially have a normal conversation without the occasional stutter. She avoided him at all intervals, which did work since he was never home, giving her time to forget that dream and recompose herself.
But she couldn't help it, she felt incredibly embarrassed and ashamed. That dream, felt real, a bit too real. She loved everything about him, the taste of his equally soft lips against hers, the touch of his unusually soft hands against her skin.
She tried not to make a big deal out of it, but she couldn't help it given she spends most of her time with him and since they were twins he was the one that constantly occupied her mind, she wouldn't bother denying that because it was the simple truth.
But that didn't make it right either! Dreams were simply an occurrence of projected mental images and emotion during slumber. Through that explanation itself Phoebe knew it was supposed to be nothing, mean nothing, but considering who she was, an extremely emotional person, she believed it had to mean value if emotion was involved. It just had to! There's nothing ordinary about having extraordinary sex with your twin brother in a very sensual dream. Not to mention that happened to be her first of what they called a wet dream which is apparently very normal for teenagers.
She sighed wistfully, tentatively raising her head to look at her twin sitting across her. In retrospect, Phoebe recalled never having being so aware and conscious of him as she was now. She watched the subtle signs of dimples on his cheeks as he chewed or smirked at something stupid Billy said, or the scrunch of his eyes in perfect synchronization with thick dark eyebrows which made up for his clamorous agitation of his rebellious passion.
He's such a catch... can't say I blame myself for finding him attractive. But, I still can't f-fall for him, I just can't!
Phoebe painfully allowed the orange juice to glide down her throat as she stared at her twin with her face flushing of vivid scarlet, her undivided attention solely on him.
That was until he met her pointed gaze.
Before she could reign in shock, her legs had involuntarily smacked together with an obvious painful resound thwack! compelling her to wince at the stings in her knee joints.
Her eyes widened when she felt her family's gazes transfixed on her, leaving her feeling not so comfortable being the center of attention in that particular moment.
"Honey, is everything alright?"
"Y-Yes Mom!" she replied in an unrequited high pitched voice, eyes widening even more when he rose an eyebrow at her antics, further managing to appeal more in her eyes. "I-I'll be going to bed now!"
The family shared a confused collective glance before resuming their meal.
xXx
"I bet he probably thinks I'm actually weird now." she muttered, head buried in her bed sheets. "I just, why did my twin of all people have to be so super cute!"
It was all a dream! That's all it was! It meant nothing!
She shook her head as if in coalition with her mind.
Before relenting.
Who am I kidding? I can't stop thinking about it. Even I have to admit it felt, kind of good. Not that I want it to feel good! Its just...involuntary, yes that's it! I didn't consciously project my twin as a perfect candidate for my sexual fantasy!
She groaned. The probability of dreaming about him is relatively slim. I can dream just about anything that doesn't include or involve Max.
She felt complacent all of a sudden.
I don't know why I'm getting all worked up. Besides, its unheard of a person experiencing a wet dream twice in the same week, with the same person nonetheless...
Phoebe nodded to herself, her mind made up, slithering beneath her sheets in efforts to test her theory.
In about 11 minutes she was fast asleep...
xXx
Hours after the exact same 11 minutes she was barely keeping up with Max who repeatedly plowed into her as she tried matching his rhythm but to no avail.
"M-Max..." she moaned.
He slowly seized his thrusts and regarded her.
"Does it hurt? Do you want me to slow down?" he queried, sending her a genuine concerned look.
"No." she returned softly, hefting herself up to plant a diminutive kiss on his boyish nose. "I just wanted to say," she paused to consider her words. "I'm glad you're my first."
"And your... last?" he asked, his eyes dancing with amusement.
"Hopefully," she muttered, slightly diverting her gaze. "That's if Courtney doesn't-"
She was stopped by a meaningful kiss, his hand caressing the side of her face as she leaned into his touch. "Hey, I'm all for you and you're all for me. Alright?"
"Then promise me."
"Promise you what?"
"That... That," she paused hesitantly. "Never mind."
He sighed. "You know you can tell me anything right?"
"I know... I'm just being girly I guess."
He chuckled and smoothed a movement during their conversation causing her to release a slow moan as she lustily peered into his brown eyes.
"Stop this needless convo and ravish me?"
"Thou needeth not ask." he returned with sass, her hands firming behind his back. A twitch of her fingers compelled a blanket to drape over both their glistening forms.
"H-harder... Y-Yes!"
xXx
Phoebe frustratedly kicked her sheet to the floor, sitting on the edge of the bed, fully aware of the associated wetness between her thighs. She wiped away her tear trails and slowly rose, trudging for her door.
xXx
She wasn't in the best of conditions, even though in first person Phoebe acknowledged her disheveled hair, the odd scent emanating from her body and her complete fragged appearance.
Reaching the bathroom door, she fished her hand for the nearby door knob, only to feel another hand already clutching the object. She glanced to the side and noticeably flinched, pulling away.
"You've been acting weird lately."
"Not now Max, I'm not in the mood."
She felt him shrug.
"Are you alright? You look, not so alright."
Phoebe was already a step away from reaching her door, hesitantly stepping into her room.
"Uh, Pheebs, don't you want to use the bathroom? You look like you need it more than I do."
She managed to build up courage to look at his face, literally feeling blood rush to her cheeks when her eyes trailed his arms, chest and fragged hairstyle.
"I-Its okay, y-you go ahead."
"You sure? You look rough."
She nodded, not trusting her voice, watching him send her an unreadable stare before entering the bathroom.
xXx
She peered at his silhouette through the shower curtain and draped her bathing gown off of her shoulders and pushed the fabric aside. Her long arms circled over his shoulder to his chest and flattened her breasts against his bare back.
"Mind if I joined you?"
"Not at all..." he returned huskily.
She turned and gave him a full wet kiss governed by water pouring on them. Automatically in search of dominance he pushed her against the tiled wall and squeezed her soft butt eliciting a smile from her through the kiss. She felt the immediate harden of him between her thighs.
"Someone's in the mood." she remarked.
He ignored her and trailed kisses on her wet neck, collar bone and nipples as she pulled his face into her chest demandingly, feeling her own arousal brewing.
"M-Max, let's skip the foreplay, I-I want you inside me." she begged.
He pecked and hoisted her to wrap herself around him.
"You want it rough?"
"Definitely." she replied in a daze, whimpering as he entered her without haste.
He started moving his hips when she treasured his head with her hand giving him the entire control.
"Go... faster!"
- Minutes Later -
Phoebe slumped, head perched on his shoulder, panting for dear life. "T-That was... Wow."
Max smirked, running a hand through her hair.
"I don't think I'll be able to walk properly for a while."
"Yeah."
She sat upright in his hold and kissed him.
"Now it's my turn."
"What do you mean?"
She staggeringly placed her feet to the white bathroom floor and trotted down as she planted one hand to his hip.
Seconds later and one could hear satisfied groans from one Max Thunderman.
"P-Phoebe."
She lolled her tongue.
"Phoebe..."
Her grip on his hips tightened.
xXx
"Phoebe!"
She bolted upright, rubbing the fogginess away from her eyes to clear her vision, sensing a foreign presence beside her.
"Are you alright?"
The distinct voice startled her as she edged to the other side of the bed.
"What do you want?"
"If you plan on ruining your perfect attendance then be my guest."
She bolted for the bathroom, avoiding him altogether.
xXx
"Are you sure you aren't sick bestie?"
"I'm perfectly fine Cherry, I just didn't have enough hours of sleep last night."
"If you say so."
Phoebe sighed as another vivid memory of Max and her committing illicit actions flashed across her mind at her best friend's inquiry. She hasn't gotten a lot of sleep lately, too hung up on trying to avoid Max and acting normal to avoid suspicions. Phoebe refocused her vision to see a blonde standing by the lockers.
"Cherry, I'll meet you in class in 5 minutes."
"Where are you going?"
"There's something I need to do."
"Okay, don't be late."
She made her way to the pretty cheerleader who was packing her books.
"Hi Courtney..."
The blonde looked her way, taking a moment for recognition to settle in. "Oh, its you. What do you want?"
Phoebe receded the retort and decided to get to the point.
"It's about Max."
"You mean that pretty face brother of yours?"
"Yeah... Listen uh, so he has a crush on you."
"Every boy has a crush on me, get to the point."
Phoebe excused her haughtiness. "He really really likes you, and I was thinking. I was thinking maybe it'd be super nice of you to give him a chance."
"And why would I go and do that?"
"Its just, he liked you for a long time and, well... he isn't that bad looking and-"
"Listen Phoebe, I am not dating your brother."
She wanted to walk away, so badly, but somehow she managed to stand her ground. "Why not?"
"He's immature, he's uncool, he's brash and he's obnoxious. He thinks the world revolves around him just because of his petty reputation as the prank master or whatever." Courtney looped the bag on her shoulder. "And lastly, his hair isn't that great either, it makes him look like a dork."
Phoebe's eyebrow twitched.
"Mind if you repeat that again?"
"Why?"
"So I can have maximum rights to do - this!"
She raised her hand and slapped the frivolous blonde in the face - hard.
And walked away.
xXx
"Why would you?!"
"I got tired of you making a fool out of yourself in front of her whenever you try and talk to her!" she justified.
"What drove you to slap her?!"
"She was saying mean things about you Max!"
"So what?! Many people say mean things about you and I don't go around punching them!"
"That's because you don't care about me!"
His face softened a bit.
"...I do care about you."
"W-Well, you have a funny way of showing it."
He sighed, particularly displeased with her.
Phoebe looked at his forlorn expression, feeling guilt settle within her. "I don't know what came over me. Its just, what she said about you...was just so demeaning I kind of just snapped."
"Well thanks to you, now I have no chance with her." he claimed moving for her door.
"She doesn't deserve you." she muttered.
"What?" he asked, pausing as he held her door open.
"... I-I said I'm sorry for ruining your chances with Courtney."
"Whatever."
Phoebe flinched when he slammed her door with unnecessary force.
xXx
"Max."
A tug to his shoulder which he shrugged off.
"What do you want?"
"Are you mad?"
He sighed and turned to face her.
"I have reason to be."
"That's not what this is about Max."
"Stop lying to yourself Phoebe, we both know what this is all about."
She didn't respond, in favour of moving forward to tether her lips to his, had he not backed away from her attempt to kiss him.
"Of course, ignore the talking to get what you want."
"You know it isn't Max. I do care about you."
"No you don't! You care about you! You care about what's pleasuring you! My body! Not me!"
"I do care about you! Its against my principles to even be this intimate with you! It goes to show I do care!"
He smirked, wryly.
"That's to say my principles don't matter, do they? It's always about you. Everything's about you. What you want. Whenever you want. I don't matter. As long as I get to satisfy you, that's all."
"Max, those aren't my intentions."
He shook his head. "You're no different from Courtney. My god how stupid I was to actually think you were any different from her."
"Max, don't say that, please."
Unfortunately, the tears didn't sway him.
"That's what you always say, yet in the end I'm nothing but your sex toy. To please your sexual desires." he pointed out. "You're selfish, everything that comes out your mouth is either 'I or me', its never 'us'. Can you please just leave? I want to be alone."
"Max please, I love you."
"I said leave. Then come back when you feel those words hold any actual meaning."
"That's not-"
"I said leave."
"Max-"
"Get out."
"Please-"
"I SAID GET OUT!"
xXx
Phoebe was only left with one option.
Ms Karen Collins, the school psychologist, one individual she believed she could confide in.
"So, when exactly did these 'dreams' start occurring?"
"About a week ago."
"I see," she sighed, almost regretfully. "So, the subject never-"
"Yes, its always him." Phoebe interjected.
"If you don't mind, is he someone close to you?"
Phoebe nervously pressed a finger to her palm, nodding.
"Yes."
"How exactly close are you?"
"We're, very close."
The psychologist sighed and adjusted her glasses. "Phoebe, I'm going to need you to be more open with me. This is your space. Your safe space. You can tell me anything. Everything said in this room never leaves that door." she informed pointing to the closed door. "My job entails a strict policy towards confidentiality, so you'll have to confide in me so I can try and understand your situation better in order for me to help you."
Phoebe swallowed and eyed the psychologist.
"Its... Its Max."
The woman before her portrayed no emotion to her revelation.
"As in Max Thunderman?"
"Yes."
"But isn't that in a manner of speaking a good thing?"
That shocked Phoebe.
"W-What?"
"Frankly, this shouldn't bother you that much considering he's the one you're in a relationship with."
And Phoebe understood.
"No, Max isn't my boyfriend, he's my, my twin brother."
"Oh." Ms Collins cleared her throat. "My pardon-"
"Its alright. We're always together. That, and he managed to convince the entire school we aren't related, except some of our friends."
The psychologist seemed to ponder.
"You said your dreams are reoccurring according to certain events that take place and the sexualization of specific words?"
"Yes."
"This makes things even more complicated."
"What do you mean? Am I going to dream about him for the rest of my life?" Phoebe asked, agitated.
"No, that's not it at all." the psychologist quickly explained.
Phoebe noticeably settled down.
"Now by my understanding of having provided therapy for the similar situation in my novice years, there normally are two solutions to your problem."
"There are?" Phoebe sounded desperate and hopeful.
"Yes. One of them include mental therapy. Whereas your mind is cleansed and replenished of all the negativity or staunch abnormalities that mess with your normal way of thinking and handle mental related problems that impede the normal process of your mind."
Phoebe nodded.
"Alright. What of the other?"
"The second involves confronting the source itself."
"I don't understand."
"Intimacy."
"Intimacy?"
"Yes. The other method that proved beneficial in eradicating those dreams were to actually adhere to what your mind was insinuating. Physically."
The lump Phoebe swallowed was audible.
"And you're sure it worked before?"
"Previous clients actually approved this method to be more successful than the therapy. It basically neutralizes your mental desires once they are fulfilled, through physical contact of course."
"Really?"
"Positive. The reason its unfortunate in your case is that the subject of your dreams happens to be someone you're extremely related to."
Nodding in acceptance, Phoebe couldn't help but ask. "So, you're referencing me up for therapy?"
Ms Collins adjusted her glasses for the umpteenth time. "The choice isn't up to me. That's solely on you. Recommendation is against the policy-"
"So you think its alright if I choose to uh, sleep with Max?" she asked silently, her head low, finding the concrete floor oddly interesting, which didn't explain the warmth of her cheeks either.
The psychologist sighed. "Phoebe, I won't judge you. My opinion doesn't matter. Its that simple. Either you choose mental therapy or have intercourse with your brother, its all up to you. Though I do recommend protection if you were to go with the second option, that's my only say in this matter."
Phoebe stood up.
"Thank you Ms Collins."
"If you have anything troubling you, know my door is always open."
Phoebe nodded, shook her hand and left.
xXx
She relented being civil and made her way down to the kitchen, grasped his hand and forcefully pulled him up the stairs all the way to her room mindful of his complaints.
Shutting her door shut. She inhaled and palmed a hand to his chest as she moved into him.
"Phoebe, what are you-"
She hesitantly placed her lips on his, suffice to say she was kissing a brick wall, that's if his lips didn't indecisively quiver against hers. For a moment they both stilled, until Phoebe backed away with closed eyes.
"I have something to tell you."
He didn't seem to hear her, probably too bewildered by the fact she kissed him, her brother, her twin, to respond coherently.
"Max."
When she looked him in the eye, the light and life to his eyes returned.
"Phoebe, what the hell?" he exclaimed solidly.
"I know, I know, but you have to listen to what I have to say."
"Why didn't you just say so?!" he asked furiously, feverishly wiping at his lips.
"You wouldn't talk to me after that entire Courtney ordeal, I tried but you cold-shouldered me every time." she reasoned.
Max stared at the supposed second head that protruded from the side of her head. "And you-" he breathed in. "...thought the only way to get me to listen to you was by kissing me?"
"I had no other option, honest. Tell me, if I had kindly-"
"Just, tell me what you have to tell me so I can leave."
She nodded, moving to sit on her bed, patting beside her.
He shook his head. "I'm fine standing, just talk or I'm leaving."
- Minutes Later -
"Are you serious?"
"I wouldn't joke about this Max."
Max clenched his hands. "So, this explains your weird behaviour lately? And the reason you were avoiding me those times?"
"Yes."
"Wait, wait, let me try and understand this." he said, with a curt shake of his head. "You mean to say, each day, everything that happens here, is carried and misinterpreted in your dreams?"
"Yes."
"And I'm some kind of softie yearning for love?"
"Yes."
"And I think you're using me to please yourself?"
"Yes."
"And you want me back by proving your love for me?"
"... Yes."
"And the only way to stop these dreams is either therapy or the two of us," he paused, a sour expression etched on his face. "...have sex?"
"Yes."
"And you're telling me this why?"
That kind of caught her off guard.
"W-What do you mean?"
"You could have kept this to yourself and went for therapy."
She sighed and sent him a semi-petrified look.
"I don't want to."
Max turned for the door.
"Max, what are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" he inquired, seeming disgusted, turning to glare at her. "Phoebe, you dream about me-us having sex, which in thought itself is utterly disgusting. You went to consult with a psychologist, which I highly commend you for. You got advice and reference as to how to deal with your problem. 2 options, you were given 2 options Phoebe, you either go for mental therapy cleansing or you sleep with me. Now you tell me you don't want cleansing? Are you insane?!"
She flinched when he glared at her, leaving her fumbling with the blue hem of her dress. "Max, its not that I don't want cleansing."
"Then what?!" he bit out. "Because it sounds to me you like want to go with option 2."
She mustered enough courage to stand up and trudge towards him, standing before him with her arms around herself. "If I go for cleansing, I'll be risking exposure Max. Mental cleansing involves thorough scanning of brain activity. Think about it."
Max frowned. What she said actually made sense, but that didn't mean he was going with it, hell no.
"Why can't you ask mom and dad? They probably know someone with mind abilities who can help you, did you think of that?"
Her expression faltered. "Max, put yourself in my shoes. Would you willingly confront your parents and tell them you were experiencing countless wet dreams of your twin every time you closed your eyes? Would you?"
Max glanced to the side, thinking, trying to picture himself in her position. "Phoebe, you could lie. That could work." he suggested, turning to face her, only to be surprised when he acknowledged the tears running down her cheeks.
"I... understand if you don't want to help me." she croaked out, wiping away a tear trail, only for it to be renewed. "I'm sorry for, for troubling you. Just, forget everything I said."
She slowly walked away from him, climbing over her bed, swiftly adjusting herself to slither beneath the sheets, draping the covers entirely over her body. Trying to conceal her soft wailing, not that it helped because Max could still hear her.
"Phoebe..."
"Just, go... leave."
He left with guilt.
xXx
"Max, where's your sister?"
"Uh, she's asleep?
Barb frowned. "What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything!"
"Max, just go apologise to your sister."
"I'm telling you I didn't do anything!"
"Phoebe isn't one to skip dinner Max." Barb remarked, before her expression softened, patting her son's hand. "She's your sister, and she loves you. I'm sure that whatever you did, she'll forgive you. She is your twin after all."
Max slowly nodded, seemingly understanding what Barb was telling him.
"So, why don't you go upstairs and go apologise to her?"
"Now?"
"Yes, honey."
Max pushed his chair out, standing up, frowning, before scowling, running a hand though his hair.
"Excuse me."
xXx
"If I asked you to help me with something..."
"What?"
"If I asked you to help me with something, er, to help me get rid of something-"
"By 'getting rid of', you mean killing someone right?"
"Not really-"
"Is it Phoebe?"
"...No-"
"Then I'm not interested."
"You are my best friend right?"
"See! I knew you cared!"
"Now, if I asked you to help me with something, something you'd find disgusting and may scar you for the rest of your life, would you?"
"Of course, you're my buddy."
"I'm serious Colosso."
"Max, you clean my cage everyday, something I consider disgusting and would never do. Yet you willingly do it because you care, we're buddies, for life."
"Thanks Colosso." Max smirked, thinly though, knowing the entire conversation applied to Phoebe's... problem.
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for my sonic barrier."
xXx
When he stepped in, he was certain she was asleep because he could make out the clothes she wore earlier draped over her closet. He had half the mind to wake her up but negated the thought, turning to her door, only to turn again when he heard a muffle.
Stepping closer, he tiptoed further, hearing it again.
He peered over, and saw subtle movement of the sheets in conjuction with muffles. Max sighed, she was still crying. He clutched the front end and pulled the sheet over.
Phoebe stifled a panicked shriek, immediately bolting upright, pushing hair out of her face to acknowledge her twin who knelt by her bedside.
"M-Max, what are you, what are you doing here?"
Her face was wet all over, tears having marked trails from her cheeks to the side of her face. Her eyes were a tad red from what he deduced to be wailing all afternoon, all in all she looked miserable, and he couldn't stand it knowing he was partially to blame.
"I, uh, don't know." he answered honestly. "Were, you asleep?"
"I can't fall asleep Max."
"Oh, right, the dreams." he said lowly, feeling stupid for having asked such an obvious stupid question.
Both remained silent, not knowing what to say. Phoebe felt awkward, incredibly awkward when he just stared.
"Max, what are you doing here?" she tried again, not seeing the point of him in her room given their earlier conversation.
"Phoebe, I'm sorry."
She instantly understood. "Don't be, I understand. You're probably thinking I'm crazy for asking you to sleep with me, your twin." she chuckled with mirth, looking down at her hands. "Hearing myself saying it sounds so... out of character. I don't blame you really."
Max swallowed, hesitantly taking her hands into his, surprising her when she spared him a gawped look. "Phoebe, I'm not saying I don't want to help you."
"I get what you're trying to say Max."
He intertwined their hands, finally meeting her eyes, leaning in. Phoebe's eyes widened by every inch interval he crossed, reading his intentions, although she made no moves to stop him as his lips touched hers.
It was bittersweet for Max, added with that automatic loud thump of his heart he usually felt when he acknowledges the magnitude of his pranks or the trouble he's in. But the kiss wasn't entirely weird. It felt kind of odd but the good kind of odd. Or maybe it was the fact that he never kissed a girl before.
Max retracted, managing to keep his eyes open, regarding her bewildered state,
"Max," she whispered in disbelief, fingers dancing on the lips he willingly kissed. "Y-You kissed me."
He nodded, his hand rummaging in the deep confines of his left pocket, fishing it out with a small object in his grasp.
"What's that?"
"Sonic barrier." he replied, his other hand already wiping at her wet cheeks, a smirk gracing his lips.
She pressed her hand against his, removing it from her cheek to plant a diminutive kiss on his palm, evenly meeting his eyes. "You don't have to Max."
He shook his head. "Someone once told me best friends are for life, and that doing disgusting and unwholesome stuff for your friends are like the things you promise in marriage vows... or something along those lines."
She smiled, feeling tears prickle and pool in the corner of her eyes. "I thought we were twins."
"We're more than twins."
He nailed that phrase with a kiss, unconsciously throwing the object in his hand backwards, which attached itself on the wall, an eerie glow emanating from said object before a flicker flashed across the room.
Phoebe shifted to the other side of the bed to give him space as he climbed into the bed beside her, acclimating to the kiss, getting used to the illicit action of actually kissing his sister.
"Max?"
"You don't have to thank me."
"No, its not that."
"What is it then?"
"I-I..."
"You what?"
"I love you."
(What?)
"You never mentioned the love part Phoebe. I thought we agreed this was to relieve your lusting urges and stop your dreams."
"Can't... can't it be both?"
His shirt flew across her room, so did her sweater, so did his pants, so did her bra, followed by her pajama pants.
"What are you talking about now?"
"You know," she paused, pressing her bare chest into his, giggling softly when she heard him gasp, tethering her lips to his in a chaste kiss. "... Love and lust."
- End -