Cosmo had always been a little in awe of his counterpart rather than simply frightened of him. He possessed skills and attributes that Cosmo could only dream of - intelligence, a self-assured, brilliant, driven leader, to name a few. Ever since the switch of their fagiggly glands, he had experienced tastes of it himself. It fascinated him endlessly. He thought about it more than was probably healthy.
Anti-Cosmo deigned to give his opinion when Cosmo timidly broached the subject. "Of course we're not complete opposites, in a literal sense of the word. We're both male, aren't we, and practically identical, and more or less part of the same whole, so obviously there are exceptions. Especially so after the fagiggly transplant. That probably gave us more in common than most counterparts."
It was rare for Anti-Cosmo to bother addressing him at all, and so Cosmo drank up every word. He spoke in a bored tone, more from exasperation than hours of pondering, like Cosmo. His mind was whirling; his counterpart had unwittingly provided more food for his fascination.
Could they know everything about each other, as it would be everything they knew about themselves in reverse? Cosmo wasn't sure what he thought of this idea. Fortunately Anti-Cosmo paid so little attention to him that the theory hardly seemed to matter.
Dreams had triggered this fascination. After the transplant, he'd had dreams of being Anti-Cosmo, being like him, being with him. And they weren't entirely unpleasant. They were just embarrassing and a little frightening. He wondered if Anti-Cosmo had had similar dreams.
But it was just wondering, harmless wondering. He never actually wanted Anti-Cosmo to find him alone and push him onto his back.
"You're married! I'm married!" he had protested as he scrabbled backwards, once the other's intentions were clear.
Anti-Cosmo had crawled over him and rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, Cosmo, we're counterparts - it'll be just like touching yourself. You'll know every move and love it."
Cosmo would have liked to say it took more than that to convince him, but it really hadn't. His words had made some sort of sense at the time, and it made him feel closer to filling the empty spaces inside of him, mischief and dominance and sweet, dark delight. And it was so much more than a taste.
"We should do this again, Cosmo dear," Anti-Cosmo had said idly, as he dressed himself with a flick of his wand. It was as if they had had a mere cup of tea together.
"N-no! I mean, I can't."
Anti-Cosmo had raised his eyebrows as he looked at him, and shrugged. "Suit yourself." He then returned Cosmo's clothes with another flick of his wand. "But think about what I said. There's no harm in it really, you know. Do you think we're the first counterparts to explore this?"
Cosmo had gone red hot with embarrassment under Anti-Cosmo's smirk and glinting eyes. Malice and lust, two other attributes alien to him. He then disappeared home without another word.
Wanda had been none the wiser, and still was. Their physical romance had gone down the drain with having Poof and Timmy to deal with. He couldn't keep it from her and yet he couldn't tell her. Maybe it was private, like his counterpart had said; something for them and them alone to explore.
Cosmo found himself watching his counterpart since then, not out of any sexual desire but that old fascination again. Even the simplest of gestures like pouring tea or polishing his monocle held him rapt. He knew he must look gormless but he couldn't help himself.
Then one night when he couldn't sleep, he found himself in Anti-Fairy world, at the door of the castle. He fidgeted from foot to foot as he waited for someone to answer his knocks, conscious that it could be Foop, who would take one look at him and work out instantly what he was here for.
But Anti-Cosmo answered, and all the words Cosmo was stumbling over in his head disappeared and he could only stare. Anti-Cosmo's grin widened, and he pulled him inside.