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Fic: À Ma Soeur (Wizards Of Waverly Place, Justin/Alex)
Title: À Ma Soeur
Fandom: Wizards Of Waverly Place
Pairing(s): Justin/Alex
Word Count: 3562
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Justin and Alex watch a movie. (That he doesn't enjoy. At all.)
Notes: Written for this prompt at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
omgjustinalex.
Justin tries, for what feels like roughly the hundredth time, to concentrate on his homework.
And then, for roughly the hundredth time, he gives up.
"Alex," he says, and if it comes out a little more sharply than he intended, he can't exactly help it. Alex's hands are moving up and down the coffee table, tapping out an irregular rhythm, and she's making it impossible for him to focus. Or to think about anything, really.
She looks up, but the noise doesn't stop. "What?"
"That," he says, glancing meaningfully at her hands, and then, as the beat gets louder, he reaches over and puts his hands over hers. "Can you stop that, please?"
"Geez," Alex says, but when he moves his hands, she doesn't start up again. "What's your problem?"
"My problem," he says, "is that I thought I'd have an entire night to study with mom and dad and Max out of the house. And you're making that kind of impossible right now."
"You're such a geek," Alex says, but the usual derision is missing from her words.
It almost doesn't sting at all. "Just because I actually care about doing well in school."
"Exactly," she says, and leans back on the couch. "It's Friday night. You should be ... I don't know, having fun."
Which begs the question -
"Why aren't you having fun?"
"What?" she asks, turning to face him, and he wonders why it took him so long to realise. For him, being at home on a Friday night isn't unusual. (Okay, but he's not going to say that too loudly.)
For Alex, it definitely is.
"Why aren't you out?" he asks. "With Harper, or at a party, or whatever it is you usually do."
She shrugs. "I'm grounded, remember?"
Right. Last week's lesson. He won't be forgetting that in a hurry. "So?"
Okay, so this is weird. Usually, they're on the opposite sides of this argument.
"So," she says, like she shouldn't have to explain this to him, "that means I'm not allowed to go out."
"But -" And he really, really can't believe he's the one advocating this. "Mom and dad aren't here. How would they know?"
"You're here," she says. "Which means they'd know as soon as they got home. And then I'd be grounded for twice as long."
It makes sense, in theory. He totally would tell their parents. Except, well, it's never stopped Alex before.
"What if I didn't tell them?" he asks, and it's mostly hypothetical. Call it natural curiosity, or whatever. "I could promise not to say anything. Then you could leave."
In fact, now that he says it out loud, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea. Okay, so technically he'd be breaking the rules, but he'd also be getting Alex out of the house, which means he might actually be able to study in peace.
Alex snorts. "Like I'd believe you."
"I promise," he says, almost without hesitation. He's already pretty sure this one is going to come back to bite him in the ass. "If you go out, I won't tell mom and dad."
Wow. It feels wrong just saying it.
And she should be jumping at the offer.
But Alex, to his surprise, just shrugs again, and stretches out beside him. "I don't really feel like it."
Justin raises his eyebrows, and leans over, laying the back of his hand against her forehead. It's warm to the touch, but no more so than usual.
"Are you sure you're feeling all right?" he asks, only half joking.
Alex swats his hand away. "I'm fine. I just ... feel like staying home, is all."
"Okay," he says. He isn't going to push the subject.
Then Alex starts that stupid tapping again, and he almost wishes he had.
-
"I'm bored," she says, and it can't be more than fifteen minutes later.
"Alex," he says, exasperated. "I'm trying to study."
"And I'm trying to not be bored," she says, like that's the same thing, like she couldn't just go out and have fun instead of staying here and annoying him.
"So do something that isn't boring," he says. "And leave me alone."
Apparently, to Alex, those are mutually exclusive concepts.
He doesn't last five minutes before he packs up his notes and heads to his room.
-
Justin tries studying in his bedroom, and in the lair, and in the sub station. He can't concentrate; they're too quiet, too empty.
(But it's not like he misses Alex, or anything. He's just gotten used to her distracting him.)
When he gets back to the loft, she's watching a movie, and he settles back onto the couch beside her. Maybe she's right; he can probably finish his homework tomorrow.
"Why are you watching a movie in French?" he asks after a few minutes, and Alex looks at him, like he said something surprising.
"I thought it was Spanish," she says, and picks up the DVD case. "Damn it!"
"Wait," he says, as she tosses it aside again. "Were you studying?"
(Well, trying to, at least. She wasn't doing a very good job at it, but maybe it's the thought that counts?)
"No," she says, and then, "yes. Fine. Stupid movie."
Justin laughs, because he can't help it, and Alex swats him halfheartedly with a pillow. Which only makes him laugh more.
"Shut up," she says, finally settling the pillow beside his arm, and curling up against it. "It wasn't like I had anything better to do."
"You could have actually been studying Spanish," he says, and Alex half turns to stick her tongue out at him.
Really mature. No wonder she couldn't tell the difference between French and Spanish.
"What are you watching, anyway?" he asks, because they might as well finish the movie. It's not like he's going to get any more studying done, anyway.
He can't see her very well, but he feels her shrug against the pillow. "I don't know. I don't speak French."
"Or Spanish," he says, and if she sticks her tongue out again, he doesn't see it.
"Whatever. You can change it, if you want."
He leans back, instead, and Alex's pillow shifts with the movement. She's made it this far into the movie; they might as well stick it out.
It takes him about half an hour to realise that may have been a bad idea.
"Alex," he says, slowly. "How much do you actually know about this movie?"
She turns so she's facing him, still curled up to his side. "Nothing. It's in French, remember?"
He knows. That's probably why it's taken him this long to realise what's going on in front of them.
"Um," he says, and for a moment, he's not sure if he should even tell her. There's no point in grossing her out, right? And if she's enjoying the movie, he doesn't want to ruin it for her.
(It has nothing to do, at all, with the fact that he maybe wants to keep watching, and he's afraid Alex will want to switch it off as soon as she knows what they're actually watching.)
"What's the name of the movie?" he asks, instead. Because - maybe he's wrong? It could happen.
"I don't know," she says, and reaches, half-blindly, for the DVD case, handing it to him a second later.
Une Soeur Dangereuse, the cover reads. So, yeah. He's not wrong.
"So?" she asks, and Justin wasn't actually aware that he hadn't spoken.
"Um," he says, and if he's having a little trouble speaking, he's just. Um. Really uncomfortable. In a totally normal, brotherly way. "It's about -"
Yeah, so, words would be really good right about now.
"You know this is about a brother and sister, right?"
"What?" Alex asks, and grabs the DVD case. And then hands it back a second later. "What are you talking about?"
"The main characters," he says, and he can't even believe he has to explain this to her. It's like some incredibly cruel, incredibly embarrassing, twist of fate. "The ones, that, um."
Have spent the past half hour giving each other meaningful looks, and touching one another, and there was that one time when they almost kissed.
"You know," he says, because maybe it's better than saying all that. Alex has been watching the movie with him, anyway, and maybe she doesn't speak French, maybe she hasn't been paying enough attention to realise that the reason the characters live in the same house isn't because they're roommates, but she has to have seen what's happening. "They're, um, related."
Yeah, so this is officially the most uncomfortable conversation he's ever had. Way more uncomfortable than when their dad sat down to talk to him about dating, or later, about what comes after dating.
"Seriously?" Alex asks, and she doesn't sound disgusted, exactly. More ... intrigued.
(Or maybe just surprised, whatever.)
"How do you even know that?" she asks, and that isn't what he was expecting. He's not sure what he was expecting; for her to freak out, maybe, or demand that they turn the movie off.
"Um, because I was paying attention?"
"It's not even in English."
Okay, so maybe he doesn't understand French any more than she does, but by this point? It's pretty obvious.
"So?" he asks.
"So maybe you're wrong."
He looks over at the screen just in time to see them sitting down to a family dinner, and then glances back at Alex. "Really?"
"Okay," she says. "Maybe not."
He's still waiting for her to jump up in disgust, or reach for the remote.
Instead, she snuggles back down against him.
"Weird," she says, and apparently, that's it.
So maybe if she isn't freaking out about this, he shouldn't be, either. After all, it's just a movie, right?
(Yeah, he doesn't think so, either.)
It becomes obvious, after a few more minutes, that the movie is going exactly where he thought it was going. Which is, um. To a decidedly non-family friendly place.
(Or maybe it's too family friendly. God, that's so not funny.)
Justin shifts on the couch, because this is getting a little uncomfortable. In a bad way. And suddenly, he really wishes Alex wasn't curled up beside him, that they were on opposite ends of the couch, that he'd decided to stick with studying, instead.
Because - okay, maybe he's not uncomfortable in an entirely bad way. If he's being honest. (Which he'd really rather not be, all things considered.)
"Would you stop moving?" Alex asks, but she doesn't look away from the screen, like she's actually enjoying the movie. Which, maybe she just likes the plot? Or as much of it as she can follow, anyway. Or maybe she thinks the guy is hot.
(He's totally not considering whether the guy looks like him. In any way.)
"I'm just -" Eventually he gives up, because it's probably a lost cause, anyway. Short of switching the movie off, or leaving, there's nothing he can really do about it.
Neither of which, for totally unfathomable reasons, he has any intention of doing.
(Maybe he's just comfortable? Yeah, that sounds about right.)
"Sorry," he says, finally, and tries to concentrate on the movie again. And not on the way that Alex's hair is kind of splayed out on the pillow, brushing lightly against his shoulder, or on the way that it feels like it's suddenly way too hot in here.
It seems to work, for a while. And then -
"What are you doing?" Justin asks, practically jumping out of his seat as Alex moves the pillow, laying it on his lap.
She shrugs, like this is perfectly normal behaviour. Which it might be, if you're French and fictional, but for them? Not so much. "I was going to lie down."
"On me?" And his voice definitely did not just crack, he's just a little thirsty, that's all. Which, actually, is a really good idea. He should stand up. And get a drink.
Or, you know, maybe not.
This has to be the worst movie night ever.
"Why not?" Alex asks, and he could tell her a dozen reasons why not, but there's one in particular that jumps out at him. Metaphorically speaking.
Except he can't actually tell her about that, obviously. Alex might be okay with watching a movie about French siblings in love, but this? This is real life, their real life, and Justin's pretty sure she definitely wouldn't be cool with the way he's, um, reacting to the movie.
"Why don't you just stay on your side of the couch?" he asks, instead, and Alex huffs a little, like she's offended, but she goes to sit on the other side.
So, that's good, right?
Until she puts her feet on his lap, at least.
"Alex," he says, and, okay, his voice definitely cracks. He doesn't think anyone would blame him.
"What?" she asks, as he lifts her feet back off his legs. "Geez, what is wrong with you tonight?"
Everything, he thinks.
"I just -" And he can't explain this to her, doesn't know how to make her stop without telling her the truth and completely ruining everything. "You're really heavy, you know that?"
Yeah, like that's better.
"Am not," she says, indignant, and that's way better than seriously offended and grossed out, so. Maybe he'll go with that.
"Are too," he says, and, okay, maybe he isn't a lot more mature than she is.
"Am not," she says again, and hits him with the pillow, which he catches and wrenches away from her.
And then he can't help smirking a little, because he almost never wins, and it feels good to beat her, even at something trivial.
(Yeah, okay, so there's school, and wizard training, and pretty much anything where they have to think, ever, but when it's just the two of them, in direct competition? Alex always ends up winning.)
"You're going to pay for that," she says, but even so, he's totally unprepared when she lunges at him.
Which means he doesn't have enough time to get away, and she ends up -
Um. On his lap, more or less.
Which is definitely a problem.
"Alex," he says, a little breathless, and if she could just not move, at all, until he can figure out a way to get out of this, that would be really great. But this is Alex, and she's never done anything the way she should, so she shifts, instead.
Just a little, in a way that's probably totally innocent, and in any other situation, it would be perfectly fine. Only, this isn't any other situation.
Which Alex seems to realise, fairly quickly.
"Oh," she says, and then she stops (of course, once the damage has already been done). But instead of running away, she tilts her head to the side, looking at him curiously. "Justin?"
It's an oddly calm way of asking. Like, Justin, is there anything you need to tell me?, like he borrowed something of hers without asking, or whatever. Which is not exactly the reaction he expected her to have.
"Um," he says, and this is almost worse than her screaming or hitting him or just leaving, because, honestly, he can't explain this one. Not to her, anyway. "It's just ..."
And then - god, is she trying to kill him? - Alex moves again.
Totally not in an accidental way.
"Alex," he says, and grabs onto her hips to stop her, but he only really succeeds in pulling her closer to him, instead. Which maybe doesn't suck, but it definitely isn't what he intended to do.
"Justin," she says, almost calmly, like he's the one who started all this, and she's just playing along. Which he totally didn't. Not on purpose, anyway.
"Alex," he says. "Please."
His hands are still on her hips, and he should probably let go, except he isn't really sure what he's even asking her to do.
He doesn't think he was asking her to kiss him, but that's what she does, anyway.
And he kisses her back, because even if it's not what he was asking for, maybe (definitely) it's what he wanted.
She pulls back after a second, and Justin holds his breath, like he's waiting. Like the freak out is coming now, it was just a little delayed.
But instead, Alex shifts so her legs are on either side of his, and leans in again.
So, okay, this is really happening.
(Justin wonders, dimly, if he should shut the movie off, or if it's providing some kind of necessary background ambiance.)
And maybe he should be expecting it, since they've come this far, but when Alex reaches for him, her hands unbuttoning his pants (like she's done this before, but he's trying not to think about that right now) and slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers, it catches him completely off guard.
(Really, he shouldn't be surprised that she's taking the lead. Why should this be different from anything else?)
He can't help moaning, against her mouth, but Alex doesn't take the opportunity to tease him or whatever else she'd usually do. (Not, maybe, in this exact situation, but in general, or whatever.) Instead, she seems to take it as encouragement, and her hand slips lower, wrapping gently around his cock.
And it's not like he's completely inexperienced or whatever, but he swears he nearly comes right then and there.
"God, Alex," he says, and she smiles, her mouth trailing down his jaw, sucking haphazardly at a pulse point on his neck. He's probably going to have a hickey, later, and he wonders if it's still too hot to wear a turtleneck, if their parents are likely to notice. (Probably, and probably.)
And then she moves her hand - not a lot, but enough - and she either needs to stop that right now or keep going, he has no idea which.
Luckily, he's not the one making the decisions.
"You've -" Alex says, stopping long enough to get the words out. "You've done this, right?"
"Um," Justin says, and is it completely twisted that he's thinks he's fine doing this with his sister, but not talking to her about it, or what? "Um, yeah."
"So you have -"
Since, like, the ninth grade, not that he ever came close to needing them then.
"Yeah," he says, and his backpack is only over by the door, but it seems like miles away.
Until Alex waves her hand, and it's right beside them.
(Normally, he'd lecture her for using magic unsupervised. This is so not that time.)
It's a little difficult to manage, with Alex still straddling him, but by the time he's ready, her underwear is lying next to the coffee table, and then -
And then he's not really capable of thinking about anything but her.
"Are you -" he asks after a minute, and he's trying not to move, to let her set the pace, but it's using up pretty much all his willpower. And there's the question, the one he didn't bother to ask, and maybe should have; he's done this before, but he has no idea if she has.
(Really, he thinks he didn't ask because he doesn't want to know. He knows the guys she's been out with, and he couldn't take any of them in a fight, so maybe it's best if he never finds out.)
"I'm okay," Alex says, a little breathless, and then she starts moving, rocking back, and Justin's fingers flex on her hips, trying not to hold her too tightly. He's not really capable of doing any more than that, not with the way she's moving, so he tries to concentrate, instead, on Alex, on anything except Alex, because he really, really doesn't want this to be over too soon.
It's kind of a daunting task, all things considered.
"God," Alex says, and then, "Justin," and that's enough to send him over the edge, his name on his sister's lips while he's inside her. A moment later, she stills, falling forward, resting her forehead against his, and he's hot and sweaty and completely gross, and he feels amazing.
"Alex," he says. "I -"
"Shh," she says, and maybe that's for the best. (He has no idea what he was going to say, anyway, or maybe he just has no idea if he should be saying it.) And then she kisses him, short and sweet, and he doesn't want to move, doesn't ever want to have to stop being exactly like this.
So Alex moves, instead, because she's always done the things he isn't capable of.
"Are we -" he tries, and starts again. "Are you ..."
"I'm good," she says, and she looks - not good, exactly, but maybe like she's telling the truth.
So he reaches for her, just as she's finished putting her underwear back on, and tugs her back down to sit beside him.
"What are you doing?" she asks, laughter in her voice, like now he's doing something stupid.
"We're watching the end of the movie," he says. And then, because maybe he feels like he needs to justify it or something, "You know, French and Spanish are both Romance languages, which means they both have roots -"
"You're ruining it," Alex says, but she curls up beside him, a little closer than before, and lets him watch to the end of the movie anyway.
(It ends badly, but that's okay, he thinks. It's only fiction.)
Fandom: Wizards Of Waverly Place
Pairing(s): Justin/Alex
Word Count: 3562
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Justin and Alex watch a movie. (That he doesn't enjoy. At all.)
Notes: Written for this prompt at
omgjustinalex.Justin tries, for what feels like roughly the hundredth time, to concentrate on his homework.
And then, for roughly the hundredth time, he gives up.
"Alex," he says, and if it comes out a little more sharply than he intended, he can't exactly help it. Alex's hands are moving up and down the coffee table, tapping out an irregular rhythm, and she's making it impossible for him to focus. Or to think about anything, really.
She looks up, but the noise doesn't stop. "What?"
"That," he says, glancing meaningfully at her hands, and then, as the beat gets louder, he reaches over and puts his hands over hers. "Can you stop that, please?"
"Geez," Alex says, but when he moves his hands, she doesn't start up again. "What's your problem?"
"My problem," he says, "is that I thought I'd have an entire night to study with mom and dad and Max out of the house. And you're making that kind of impossible right now."
"You're such a geek," Alex says, but the usual derision is missing from her words.
It almost doesn't sting at all. "Just because I actually care about doing well in school."
"Exactly," she says, and leans back on the couch. "It's Friday night. You should be ... I don't know, having fun."
Which begs the question -
"Why aren't you having fun?"
"What?" she asks, turning to face him, and he wonders why it took him so long to realise. For him, being at home on a Friday night isn't unusual. (Okay, but he's not going to say that too loudly.)
For Alex, it definitely is.
"Why aren't you out?" he asks. "With Harper, or at a party, or whatever it is you usually do."
She shrugs. "I'm grounded, remember?"
Right. Last week's lesson. He won't be forgetting that in a hurry. "So?"
Okay, so this is weird. Usually, they're on the opposite sides of this argument.
"So," she says, like she shouldn't have to explain this to him, "that means I'm not allowed to go out."
"But -" And he really, really can't believe he's the one advocating this. "Mom and dad aren't here. How would they know?"
"You're here," she says. "Which means they'd know as soon as they got home. And then I'd be grounded for twice as long."
It makes sense, in theory. He totally would tell their parents. Except, well, it's never stopped Alex before.
"What if I didn't tell them?" he asks, and it's mostly hypothetical. Call it natural curiosity, or whatever. "I could promise not to say anything. Then you could leave."
In fact, now that he says it out loud, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea. Okay, so technically he'd be breaking the rules, but he'd also be getting Alex out of the house, which means he might actually be able to study in peace.
Alex snorts. "Like I'd believe you."
"I promise," he says, almost without hesitation. He's already pretty sure this one is going to come back to bite him in the ass. "If you go out, I won't tell mom and dad."
Wow. It feels wrong just saying it.
And she should be jumping at the offer.
But Alex, to his surprise, just shrugs again, and stretches out beside him. "I don't really feel like it."
Justin raises his eyebrows, and leans over, laying the back of his hand against her forehead. It's warm to the touch, but no more so than usual.
"Are you sure you're feeling all right?" he asks, only half joking.
Alex swats his hand away. "I'm fine. I just ... feel like staying home, is all."
"Okay," he says. He isn't going to push the subject.
Then Alex starts that stupid tapping again, and he almost wishes he had.
-
"I'm bored," she says, and it can't be more than fifteen minutes later.
"Alex," he says, exasperated. "I'm trying to study."
"And I'm trying to not be bored," she says, like that's the same thing, like she couldn't just go out and have fun instead of staying here and annoying him.
"So do something that isn't boring," he says. "And leave me alone."
Apparently, to Alex, those are mutually exclusive concepts.
He doesn't last five minutes before he packs up his notes and heads to his room.
-
Justin tries studying in his bedroom, and in the lair, and in the sub station. He can't concentrate; they're too quiet, too empty.
(But it's not like he misses Alex, or anything. He's just gotten used to her distracting him.)
When he gets back to the loft, she's watching a movie, and he settles back onto the couch beside her. Maybe she's right; he can probably finish his homework tomorrow.
"Why are you watching a movie in French?" he asks after a few minutes, and Alex looks at him, like he said something surprising.
"I thought it was Spanish," she says, and picks up the DVD case. "Damn it!"
"Wait," he says, as she tosses it aside again. "Were you studying?"
(Well, trying to, at least. She wasn't doing a very good job at it, but maybe it's the thought that counts?)
"No," she says, and then, "yes. Fine. Stupid movie."
Justin laughs, because he can't help it, and Alex swats him halfheartedly with a pillow. Which only makes him laugh more.
"Shut up," she says, finally settling the pillow beside his arm, and curling up against it. "It wasn't like I had anything better to do."
"You could have actually been studying Spanish," he says, and Alex half turns to stick her tongue out at him.
Really mature. No wonder she couldn't tell the difference between French and Spanish.
"What are you watching, anyway?" he asks, because they might as well finish the movie. It's not like he's going to get any more studying done, anyway.
He can't see her very well, but he feels her shrug against the pillow. "I don't know. I don't speak French."
"Or Spanish," he says, and if she sticks her tongue out again, he doesn't see it.
"Whatever. You can change it, if you want."
He leans back, instead, and Alex's pillow shifts with the movement. She's made it this far into the movie; they might as well stick it out.
It takes him about half an hour to realise that may have been a bad idea.
"Alex," he says, slowly. "How much do you actually know about this movie?"
She turns so she's facing him, still curled up to his side. "Nothing. It's in French, remember?"
He knows. That's probably why it's taken him this long to realise what's going on in front of them.
"Um," he says, and for a moment, he's not sure if he should even tell her. There's no point in grossing her out, right? And if she's enjoying the movie, he doesn't want to ruin it for her.
(It has nothing to do, at all, with the fact that he maybe wants to keep watching, and he's afraid Alex will want to switch it off as soon as she knows what they're actually watching.)
"What's the name of the movie?" he asks, instead. Because - maybe he's wrong? It could happen.
"I don't know," she says, and reaches, half-blindly, for the DVD case, handing it to him a second later.
Une Soeur Dangereuse, the cover reads. So, yeah. He's not wrong.
"So?" she asks, and Justin wasn't actually aware that he hadn't spoken.
"Um," he says, and if he's having a little trouble speaking, he's just. Um. Really uncomfortable. In a totally normal, brotherly way. "It's about -"
Yeah, so, words would be really good right about now.
"You know this is about a brother and sister, right?"
"What?" Alex asks, and grabs the DVD case. And then hands it back a second later. "What are you talking about?"
"The main characters," he says, and he can't even believe he has to explain this to her. It's like some incredibly cruel, incredibly embarrassing, twist of fate. "The ones, that, um."
Have spent the past half hour giving each other meaningful looks, and touching one another, and there was that one time when they almost kissed.
"You know," he says, because maybe it's better than saying all that. Alex has been watching the movie with him, anyway, and maybe she doesn't speak French, maybe she hasn't been paying enough attention to realise that the reason the characters live in the same house isn't because they're roommates, but she has to have seen what's happening. "They're, um, related."
Yeah, so this is officially the most uncomfortable conversation he's ever had. Way more uncomfortable than when their dad sat down to talk to him about dating, or later, about what comes after dating.
"Seriously?" Alex asks, and she doesn't sound disgusted, exactly. More ... intrigued.
(Or maybe just surprised, whatever.)
"How do you even know that?" she asks, and that isn't what he was expecting. He's not sure what he was expecting; for her to freak out, maybe, or demand that they turn the movie off.
"Um, because I was paying attention?"
"It's not even in English."
Okay, so maybe he doesn't understand French any more than she does, but by this point? It's pretty obvious.
"So?" he asks.
"So maybe you're wrong."
He looks over at the screen just in time to see them sitting down to a family dinner, and then glances back at Alex. "Really?"
"Okay," she says. "Maybe not."
He's still waiting for her to jump up in disgust, or reach for the remote.
Instead, she snuggles back down against him.
"Weird," she says, and apparently, that's it.
So maybe if she isn't freaking out about this, he shouldn't be, either. After all, it's just a movie, right?
(Yeah, he doesn't think so, either.)
It becomes obvious, after a few more minutes, that the movie is going exactly where he thought it was going. Which is, um. To a decidedly non-family friendly place.
(Or maybe it's too family friendly. God, that's so not funny.)
Justin shifts on the couch, because this is getting a little uncomfortable. In a bad way. And suddenly, he really wishes Alex wasn't curled up beside him, that they were on opposite ends of the couch, that he'd decided to stick with studying, instead.
Because - okay, maybe he's not uncomfortable in an entirely bad way. If he's being honest. (Which he'd really rather not be, all things considered.)
"Would you stop moving?" Alex asks, but she doesn't look away from the screen, like she's actually enjoying the movie. Which, maybe she just likes the plot? Or as much of it as she can follow, anyway. Or maybe she thinks the guy is hot.
(He's totally not considering whether the guy looks like him. In any way.)
"I'm just -" Eventually he gives up, because it's probably a lost cause, anyway. Short of switching the movie off, or leaving, there's nothing he can really do about it.
Neither of which, for totally unfathomable reasons, he has any intention of doing.
(Maybe he's just comfortable? Yeah, that sounds about right.)
"Sorry," he says, finally, and tries to concentrate on the movie again. And not on the way that Alex's hair is kind of splayed out on the pillow, brushing lightly against his shoulder, or on the way that it feels like it's suddenly way too hot in here.
It seems to work, for a while. And then -
"What are you doing?" Justin asks, practically jumping out of his seat as Alex moves the pillow, laying it on his lap.
She shrugs, like this is perfectly normal behaviour. Which it might be, if you're French and fictional, but for them? Not so much. "I was going to lie down."
"On me?" And his voice definitely did not just crack, he's just a little thirsty, that's all. Which, actually, is a really good idea. He should stand up. And get a drink.
Or, you know, maybe not.
This has to be the worst movie night ever.
"Why not?" Alex asks, and he could tell her a dozen reasons why not, but there's one in particular that jumps out at him. Metaphorically speaking.
Except he can't actually tell her about that, obviously. Alex might be okay with watching a movie about French siblings in love, but this? This is real life, their real life, and Justin's pretty sure she definitely wouldn't be cool with the way he's, um, reacting to the movie.
"Why don't you just stay on your side of the couch?" he asks, instead, and Alex huffs a little, like she's offended, but she goes to sit on the other side.
So, that's good, right?
Until she puts her feet on his lap, at least.
"Alex," he says, and, okay, his voice definitely cracks. He doesn't think anyone would blame him.
"What?" she asks, as he lifts her feet back off his legs. "Geez, what is wrong with you tonight?"
Everything, he thinks.
"I just -" And he can't explain this to her, doesn't know how to make her stop without telling her the truth and completely ruining everything. "You're really heavy, you know that?"
Yeah, like that's better.
"Am not," she says, indignant, and that's way better than seriously offended and grossed out, so. Maybe he'll go with that.
"Are too," he says, and, okay, maybe he isn't a lot more mature than she is.
"Am not," she says again, and hits him with the pillow, which he catches and wrenches away from her.
And then he can't help smirking a little, because he almost never wins, and it feels good to beat her, even at something trivial.
(Yeah, okay, so there's school, and wizard training, and pretty much anything where they have to think, ever, but when it's just the two of them, in direct competition? Alex always ends up winning.)
"You're going to pay for that," she says, but even so, he's totally unprepared when she lunges at him.
Which means he doesn't have enough time to get away, and she ends up -
Um. On his lap, more or less.
Which is definitely a problem.
"Alex," he says, a little breathless, and if she could just not move, at all, until he can figure out a way to get out of this, that would be really great. But this is Alex, and she's never done anything the way she should, so she shifts, instead.
Just a little, in a way that's probably totally innocent, and in any other situation, it would be perfectly fine. Only, this isn't any other situation.
Which Alex seems to realise, fairly quickly.
"Oh," she says, and then she stops (of course, once the damage has already been done). But instead of running away, she tilts her head to the side, looking at him curiously. "Justin?"
It's an oddly calm way of asking. Like, Justin, is there anything you need to tell me?, like he borrowed something of hers without asking, or whatever. Which is not exactly the reaction he expected her to have.
"Um," he says, and this is almost worse than her screaming or hitting him or just leaving, because, honestly, he can't explain this one. Not to her, anyway. "It's just ..."
And then - god, is she trying to kill him? - Alex moves again.
Totally not in an accidental way.
"Alex," he says, and grabs onto her hips to stop her, but he only really succeeds in pulling her closer to him, instead. Which maybe doesn't suck, but it definitely isn't what he intended to do.
"Justin," she says, almost calmly, like he's the one who started all this, and she's just playing along. Which he totally didn't. Not on purpose, anyway.
"Alex," he says. "Please."
His hands are still on her hips, and he should probably let go, except he isn't really sure what he's even asking her to do.
He doesn't think he was asking her to kiss him, but that's what she does, anyway.
And he kisses her back, because even if it's not what he was asking for, maybe (definitely) it's what he wanted.
She pulls back after a second, and Justin holds his breath, like he's waiting. Like the freak out is coming now, it was just a little delayed.
But instead, Alex shifts so her legs are on either side of his, and leans in again.
So, okay, this is really happening.
(Justin wonders, dimly, if he should shut the movie off, or if it's providing some kind of necessary background ambiance.)
And maybe he should be expecting it, since they've come this far, but when Alex reaches for him, her hands unbuttoning his pants (like she's done this before, but he's trying not to think about that right now) and slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers, it catches him completely off guard.
(Really, he shouldn't be surprised that she's taking the lead. Why should this be different from anything else?)
He can't help moaning, against her mouth, but Alex doesn't take the opportunity to tease him or whatever else she'd usually do. (Not, maybe, in this exact situation, but in general, or whatever.) Instead, she seems to take it as encouragement, and her hand slips lower, wrapping gently around his cock.
And it's not like he's completely inexperienced or whatever, but he swears he nearly comes right then and there.
"God, Alex," he says, and she smiles, her mouth trailing down his jaw, sucking haphazardly at a pulse point on his neck. He's probably going to have a hickey, later, and he wonders if it's still too hot to wear a turtleneck, if their parents are likely to notice. (Probably, and probably.)
And then she moves her hand - not a lot, but enough - and she either needs to stop that right now or keep going, he has no idea which.
Luckily, he's not the one making the decisions.
"You've -" Alex says, stopping long enough to get the words out. "You've done this, right?"
"Um," Justin says, and is it completely twisted that he's thinks he's fine doing this with his sister, but not talking to her about it, or what? "Um, yeah."
"So you have -"
Since, like, the ninth grade, not that he ever came close to needing them then.
"Yeah," he says, and his backpack is only over by the door, but it seems like miles away.
Until Alex waves her hand, and it's right beside them.
(Normally, he'd lecture her for using magic unsupervised. This is so not that time.)
It's a little difficult to manage, with Alex still straddling him, but by the time he's ready, her underwear is lying next to the coffee table, and then -
And then he's not really capable of thinking about anything but her.
"Are you -" he asks after a minute, and he's trying not to move, to let her set the pace, but it's using up pretty much all his willpower. And there's the question, the one he didn't bother to ask, and maybe should have; he's done this before, but he has no idea if she has.
(Really, he thinks he didn't ask because he doesn't want to know. He knows the guys she's been out with, and he couldn't take any of them in a fight, so maybe it's best if he never finds out.)
"I'm okay," Alex says, a little breathless, and then she starts moving, rocking back, and Justin's fingers flex on her hips, trying not to hold her too tightly. He's not really capable of doing any more than that, not with the way she's moving, so he tries to concentrate, instead, on Alex, on anything except Alex, because he really, really doesn't want this to be over too soon.
It's kind of a daunting task, all things considered.
"God," Alex says, and then, "Justin," and that's enough to send him over the edge, his name on his sister's lips while he's inside her. A moment later, she stills, falling forward, resting her forehead against his, and he's hot and sweaty and completely gross, and he feels amazing.
"Alex," he says. "I -"
"Shh," she says, and maybe that's for the best. (He has no idea what he was going to say, anyway, or maybe he just has no idea if he should be saying it.) And then she kisses him, short and sweet, and he doesn't want to move, doesn't ever want to have to stop being exactly like this.
So Alex moves, instead, because she's always done the things he isn't capable of.
"Are we -" he tries, and starts again. "Are you ..."
"I'm good," she says, and she looks - not good, exactly, but maybe like she's telling the truth.
So he reaches for her, just as she's finished putting her underwear back on, and tugs her back down to sit beside him.
"What are you doing?" she asks, laughter in her voice, like now he's doing something stupid.
"We're watching the end of the movie," he says. And then, because maybe he feels like he needs to justify it or something, "You know, French and Spanish are both Romance languages, which means they both have roots -"
"You're ruining it," Alex says, but she curls up beside him, a little closer than before, and lets him watch to the end of the movie anyway.
(It ends badly, but that's okay, he thinks. It's only fiction.)