Name: Vices (you sing a sad song)
Fandom: Wizards
Disclaimer: I own pretty much nothing. Incest related concepts. Lyrics from 'Vices' by Brand New.
A/N: Sorry about before, formatting got screwed up.
{ We need vices,
we've never needed to brandish our disguises.
'Cause those days are dead (forgive me),
we need vices to wave goodbye to the good old days.
She said goodbye to the ground and jumped! }
//
At first, the only thing that ever came close to a sensible reasoning (he's since banned many words from his vocabulary and everyday use; sensible and logical being just two examples) for the feeling in his stomach, the one clawing in his chest and tingling in the tips of his fingers that seemed to swell and recede like a tide of heat and frustration, was that he must be losing his mind.
Very slowly but piece by piece, it seemed like he was losing his mind because there was no logical (banned) explanation for the feelings he felt and the thoughts he thought, and the wants (her) he wanted.
It scared him, shook him to the core that he could feel this way about her.
*her, Alex, his sister
He reacted in the only way he knew how, which was full fledged panic mixed with equal parts denial and distraction. He started to avoid Alex, never rose to her baits of a fight (which was hard) in favor of redirecting her attention and then promptly disappearing.
It was needed, heavily needed to keep him from a full fledged breakdown complete with nonsense babble which would led into a very well developed (because lets be honest, he's never done anything half assed in his whole life --which later on would include self loathing and manic depression-- and this wouldn't be the point that he'd start) catatonic state.
His whole evade and deflect route, it seemed to work for a while, if only because it was Alex, and she got tired of all the effort required to deal with him.
Worked for a while, yeah.
Well, until she got seven different kinds of pissed and all but attacked him.
//
"What's your problem?"
He's sitting at his desk, chem book open and studying when her growl emits from behind him and breaks the silence draping over the room, breaks it right in half.
Justin stiffens instantly and noticeably but doesn't turn around because you play to your strengths, not your weaknesses and Alex will always have the upper hand when it comes to a battle of wills which involves eye contact.
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't even try to play stupid with me, Justin. Cut the shit and tell me what's going on and why you've been- why you're being a total freak."
He grinds his teeth. "Nothing is wrong, Alex."
"Bullshit. Come on, tell me."
"Drop it, nothing is wrong." He says in that same flat tone he's used for the last few weeks.
It's quiet for a long short moment and he'd assume she had left, off to stew in the fact she hadn't gotten her way for once but he could still feel her close by. And then all of a sudden her voice drops an octave and her words are wrapped tightly in a highly uncharacteristic sort of quiver (and he's not sure if this is just the ace up her sleeve or what but it hits pitch perfect right into his heart) and they spill out into the space between them.
"Whada I do?"
It's the clincher; the point of no return where he is forced to slowly set down the pencil against the desk's surface and turn around to face her. He realized the movement as a mistake before his body even complied with the command but really, there was nothing he could do about it.
His assumption was (of course) proved correct when he took in the sight of her standing in the doorway, shoulders slumped in a way they rarely ever are, brown curls framing her face in just the way he wished they wouldn't and her gaze immediately locking to his own.
Her eyes pleading in a way they never do.
"Alex, you didn't do anything, okay? It's just-" Justin took a deep breath, praying for some sort of answer and not at all surprised when he didn't get one. "It's me, not you." He finished lamely, breaking the eye contact first and looking down at the rug on his floor.
Her laugh is humorless and bitter laced while her words nip at his skin with all kinds of intensity, almost burning.
"You gotta be kidding me."
It causes him to look up quickly because her voice is a whole lot closer than it was a second ago and when he does, she's right in front of him, in his face with her hands gripping the front of his shirt none too delicately (he swallows down the instinctual reaction to complain that this is his favorite v-neck tee shirt she's stretching out) and forcing his back to straighten against the chair. Forces the chair to roll a few inches back into the edge of his desk.
"It's me, not you? I'm not some girlfriend you can break up with." He feels like there should be more to her statement. Something like 'I'm your sister' but she doesn't continue on in that train of thought. "You don't get to try and work this avoiding crap on me. You don't get to try and work anything on me. I work you, that's how this relationship goes and the quicker you remember that," She leans closer, clinches the material of his shirt in her fists all that much tighter and for a second he sees something in her eyes that he can't readily identify. Her voice is low; hush. "the better."
And then she is strutting out his room.
//
{ We need vices at fifty thousand degrees }
He ignores her threat (or was it a promise?) and every day that he continues to try and avoid her, the anger seems to build in her eyes; her tense stance and lips strained into a thin line.
She burns into him with every look, the way she stares at the back of his head as he does his homework at the kitchen table or at school, when he tries to all but crawl inside his locker during each period between classes.
He can't give in though, something inside of him just won't let him give in to whatever this is.
*unhealthy, irrational, fervent
Justin is going to fight this thing until it drags him down kicking and screaming bloody murder.
Which works out because he has a feeling this will end (will it ever end?) bloody, anyway.
//
"Dude, what's up with your sister?"
He looks up from his tray, where he had been noncommittally moving around mac and cheese for the last ten minutes, and over to Zeke who was looking past him. Justin turned his head to follow his best friends gaze only to quickly whip his head back at the sight of Alex sitting with Harper a few tables over and flat out staring at him with no remorse for her clear lack of subtlety.
Usually it was all he could do to pretend he didn't feel her eyes but for the last few minutes he had actually managed the feat, too caught up counting the ways he was going to hell (and he was, every time the image of her well tanned legs flashed in his head, he dropped down another layer in the pit of flames). That lack of sensation was ruined now though, her watch was all he could feel now.
"Not sure, but who cares?" He shrugged his shoulders a little to add all that much more indifference.
"You really don't know? Because man, she looks like she wants to rip your head off or something and normally it's not a concern with girls but-- it's your sister."
(It's your sister)
"Dunno, maybe it's her time of the month or something."
"Oh, well," Zeke paused, taking another oversized bite of his sandwich and continued on while trying to chew it down. "good to know. I'll have to watch what I say."
Justin looked over at him, brows arched in question. "Why?"
"Because she's coming over right now."
A note of panic, an intake of air, an excuse rushed and an escape commenced.
All in that order, for the most part.
//
He thought he'd found salvation (not the meaningful kind that would pull the weight from his chest and the sick from his head) in the boys bathroom.
The more he loses his mind, the more he's wrong.
Justin is at the sink, staring into the dirtied porcelain with water dripping from his face when the door to the room gets slammed open and she's locking it by the time he turns to face her. He started to sputter out something --they could be words but they don't really sound like them, more awkward squeaks and other assorted noises than anything else-- as she stalks her way over to him. There were plans brewing in his head but he had only gotten as far as run! which didn't seem like a viable option at the moment, his legs felt frozen; heavy and rooted.
She got rid of any distance, space between them, pushing her body flush against his while she rose on her tip-toes. His hands found the counter's edge, gripping at it to steady the shaking. Alex grabbed his face, tugged it down hard and planted a firm kiss to his lips. It was closed mouth and hard while her fingernails dug into the skin of his cheek (whether or not her intent was to draw blood and it probably was, that was the end result). After a few seconds, she pulled back but not too far, only enough to get a clear lock onto his eyes.
"I feel it too." Her voice is rasp while she searches him for something, a something she apparently finds through the surprise and aversion swirling around him and when she does, her words come out stronger-- with fire. "Only I don't run like a scared little girl and I don't freak out and act all weird so everyone can clearly see that something is wrong and bothering me."
He watches her swallow harshly.
"I accept how messed up this is, and how fucked up I am. I come to terms with my vices and understand my urges." She leans over again and this time their lips ghost against one and other, her breath warm as it shapes her words. "And like always, I still get what I want."
This next kiss is anything but chaste. It's violent with the amount of passion behind it and this time Justin is all but forced to return it, take action (and later consequence).
//
He wraps an arm taut around his stomach to try and subdue the want to vomit at the memory of their bathroom encounter and just how utterly right and whole it felt.
{ (where is my head?) those days are dead. }
//
It's three days later when it (them) happens again.
He's laying on his bed, hands behind his head while his eyes are tracing invisible lines on the ceiling in the dark to avoid having to focus on anything at all. For obvious reasons too, because there would only be one anything he was going to be focusing on. It was the same thing soaking every thought and invading every dream (which was why he had been laying here wide awake for the last two hours).
The feel of her lips on his own-- they would never feel normal again. She'd left a intangible scar to remember her by and it took every inch of willpower he had (and usually that was a lot) to hold himself in check, not let his tongue run over and try to find the faintest hint of her taste left behind.
This was so wrong (feels right-- it's so wrong.)
Everything.
Justin knows it's her the second the door cracks and a narrow flood of light from the hall streams in. He watches her from the corner of his eyes as she stands there, the light making a skewed halo (irony) above her. She looks hesitant but for only a second and then she's stepping fully inside the room and closing the door behind her.
The click it makes, causes him to squirm in the slightest.
"Alex, go back to your room."
His voice isn't as stanch as he wished it would be and it doesn't seem to put her off her path. Alex took the measured steps and stopped at the bedside. He doesn't move at all and within the next second she's climbed on, straddling him.
She leans down, placing her face in the crook of his shoulder and neck, breathing deep while her hands find their way into his hair.
He still doesn't move, hands pinned under his head.
"Alex, stop."
She lifts her face from it's resting spot and brings it in front of his own. They've yet to make eye contact as she leans forward and kisses the corner of his mouth.
"Alex, we can't."
She makes fists around the locks of his hair and kisses him harder this time, a few centimeters over, almost full on the lips.
His hands finally move from their spot, coming to wrap around her own smaller ones. Without the prop, his head falls down against the pillow and he's able to catch her gaze.
"Alex," She freezes this time. "we can't. We just-- can't."
She instantly drops flat against him, her face falling back into the crook of his neck again and he can feel her warm breath in quick inhales and exhales, like she's on the verge of breaking.
*cracked, fractured, given up.
"But I want too." Her voice is small and obscured by his skin. "I know it's wrong and sick, and we shouldn't but I want too."
He hates himself.
"So do I."
//
They don't speak (exist) to one and other for a week.
It hurts to feel this non-feeling.
//
"Alex, listen I--… never mind."
//
{ That forest burned (you see smoke, a halo) we need vices }
Justin could have kept this going for the rest of his life. He'd be going off to college soon and then he'd only have to be home and maybe around her for the holidays or whatever. Who knows, by then these feelings (thoughts/needs/sins) might have disappeared. He was really set to just ride all this out but then, of course something had to happen.
Of course he'd pick the exact moment she was leaving the bathroom, wet and only in a towel, to exit his room with the intent on grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen.
He can recall every detail about those five seconds.
Down to the water drop.
And now he can't stay away, it's an itch crawling over his forearms and neck and everywhere else. Now it's him cracking her door open at one in the morning, hesitant to step inside but he does because it's all over for him (not one single dream of redemption left; he'd always repent though). He closed the distance and stopped at her side, looking down at her sleeping face and feeling his stomach flip, hard.
Justin wasn't sure how long he stood there.
Apparently, it was a long time.
"Stop staring at me, dork." Her sleepy voice --edged with what sounded like hope-- drifted up and startled him from his trance.
No turning back, he slowly dropped to his knees so he was on her level. Anxious fingers found their way to her face, smoothing back brunette curls.
"I thought we can't." She stated without any of the conviction he once said it with.
His hand stilled against her face.
"Yeah, well… I never stood a chance, did I."
END.
