fic: mixed with bad advice
So, uh. This happened.
Mixed with Bad Advice
Wizards of Waverly Place. Alex/Justin. 1,528 words.
Warnings: incest, underage
Notes: Thanks so much to pirateygoodness for the beta help! Set after the WOWP movie.
Everything is different after the vacation’s over. Sure, their family was saved, the Russo children still exist, but now it’s like there’s this weight that wasn’t there before. The competition to keep their magic had always seemed like this far off thing, something that was going to happen, but not to her, maybe, and now it’s all she can think about these days.
And things are weird with Justin, too. She isn’t sure what exactly changed between them, but it’s tense, really tense. They snap at each other a lot more. Justin reads and studies more than ever, and Alex is willing to bet her favorite pair of shoes that he’s stocking up on magic that’ll let him keep his full powers once the competition comes around again.
She almost wishes she’d wished their memories away, too, except for how she doesn’t because she won, and she might never get over it. Maybe she should’ve tacked and everything wouldn’t get weird onto the end of the wish or something. She wishes she didn’t think about it so much. Then she imagines Justin saying, “If wishes were horses,” and trailing off with that smug, know-it-all look that’s like his default expression, and gets so annoyed that she pokes the real Justin in the side hard enough that he squawks.
*
Alex is grounded. Again. She can’t hang out, can’t leave home, can’t do magic, and basically the only thing she is allowed to do is, like, breathe.
So she sneaks into Justin’s room to pass the time while he’s somewhere else, probably at the library or some other geeky place she’s not familiar with. She goes through his desk, hoping she can find a notebook with something embarrassing that she can photocopy the crap out of and paper the walls at school with.
No such luck, but she does rearrange most of the items organized so carefully across the desktop. Justin’s so OCD about stuff like that, which is just great for her; she can annoy him a lot with the least amount of effort.
*
Justin hates it when Alex scratches her fingernails across the back of his neck, so, naturally, Alex does it as often as she can get away with. Not hard enough to hurt, light enough to almost tickle.
It’s not until she does it once and he actually shivers before jumping up, glaring at her and sputtering her name that she wonders why he hates it so much.
*
Alex starts sneaking into Justin’s room even when she’s not grounded, for reasons she can’t quite voice. She just-misses him. She misses the way they used to talk and tease each other, when it felt like they were doing it for fun, not to hurt. She never really does anything, though, just sits on his bed, or sometimes lies down. She does this pretty often until, once, she falls asleep and wakes up, disoriented, to a bed and pillows that don’t smell like her own.
What’s even more disconcerting is finding Justin in the living room after she sneaks back out. He must’ve known she was in his room, on his bed. Why didn’t he wake her up, kick her out? But Alex doesn’t bring it up, and neither does Justin.
*
“I’m going to win,” Alex says, mouth pressed to Justin’s ear. “Again.”
Justin pushes her so she falls back onto his bed, follows her down and holds himself up over her, looking. He’s just looking at her, eyes dark and serious, and yet-Alex wants to kick and push and squirm until he does something, anything.
Justin presses her down, touches her everywhere, kisses her all over, and the realization that that’s what made Justin’s eyes so dark, made him lick his lips, is enough to wake Alex from her dream.
She feels too hot, so she kicks off the covers, turns onto her side and presses her legs together, hard. It’s a long while before she falls back asleep.
*
Magic lessons in the lair are not something Alex has ever really looked forward to, but they’re definitely one of her least favorite things now. Now, they mostly consist of Justin doing the spells before their dad even manages to finish explaining anything, so pleased with himself afterwards, and Alex glaring daggers at him from across the room.
The day they learn to turn household objects into food, Justin turns a vase into an entire meal, complete with a fancy arrangement on a fancy looking plate. Alex turns a pillow into a live chicken. Max turns a broom into a mop.
Max scratches his head. “That was supposed to be a banana split,” he says, as their father chases after the chicken when it runs out of the lair.
“It’s a pretty simple spell, you know,” Justin says. He may be talking to Max, but he’s looking at Alex. “If you would only focus on the food you want, like you’re supposed to.”
Alex makes a face at him. “Yeah, well, I’m sure you have enough focus for all of us, seeing as how you put so much focus on studying, you have no life.”
Justin lets out a fake sounding laugh. “Then at least you’ll have a life to look forward to after all my focus lets me win the wizard competition.”
Alex smiles at him. “Unlike you, dear brother, I’m pretty sure I can win and have a life.”
It seems Justin has nothing to say to that, so he settles for glaring at her, arms crossed over his chest. She glares back.
“Okay,” Max says, slowly. “So. Anyone up for ice cream? I’m pretty sure I’ll get it right this time.”
*
When she’s finally fed up, she corners Justin in his room where he’s bent over his desk, head buried in a book so thick it makes Alex’s head ache just looking at it. She flicks his ear to get his attention.
“Okay, look,” she says. “Everything’s been really weird since we got back, and I know you know it, too. Normally, I wouldn’t say anything about it, but this is getting ridiculous. I’ve even been getting, uh, you know.” She waves her hand to encompass all the ways in which the weirdness between them has been affecting her.
Justin looks half confused, half annoyed. “Stress-related symptoms?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that. I’ve just had trouble sleeping and keep getting headaches all the time.”
Justin rolls his eyes. “Stress-related symptoms,” he repeats.
Oh. “Oh. Well. Whatever,” she says. “The point is, you should get over whatever problem it is that you have.” She adds, “Like, now,” when he only stares at her.
Justin stands up, holding his hands out as if he were attempting to ward off a crazy person. “There’s nothing weird.”
Alex makes a frustrated sound, nearly throws her hands up. “This is all because of the competition, isn’t it?” Justin’s expression seems to shut down, and Alex almost wants to shout, Aha! She knew it. “Seriously, Justin? Get over it.”
“Get over it?” Justin echoes, brow furrowing. “Get over the fact that my kid sis, who’s barely even studied a fraction of the magic I have, beat me in the family wizard competition? Oh, sure.”
“Yes!” she snaps. “Stop being a sore loser and get over it, because it’s going to happen again.”
Justin’s eyes widen, mouth opening, and she cuts him off, says, “God, no, I don’t mean me beating you again, I mean the competition will happen again. And I might win. You might win. There’s a very, very tiny chance that even Max might win. But until then, can we just go back to normal? Please?”
Because she’s tired of feeling so angry and annoyed all the time, she doesn’t add. She wants her brother back.
Alex almost thinks Justin will say no, that everything’s changed, for good, and there’s nothing she can do about it, but then his shoulders slump and his expression softens. He says, “Okay,” and, “I’m sorry,” and then Alex is moving to hug him tight and close, press her face against his neck.
“You were being pretty weird, too,” he says, cheek against her hair. His arms are just as tight, wrapped around her waist.
“Only because you were, first,” she says, which is kind of lame, but she doesn’t care. She’s mostly proud that her voice doesn’t waver and crack, even though, stupidly enough, she feels like she might possibly be on the verge of feeling some serious emotions, or something. She can’t help it; she’s missed him, even if he hasn’t actually gone anywhere.
“Justin, do me a favor,” she says, words warm against his throat. He nods. “Promise me. Promise we won’t change, whatever happens in the competition. Whoever wins.”
Justin’s hand slides down her side, grips her hip. He does promise, then says, “You do it, too.”
“I promise,” she says, and pulls back to seal it with a kiss, hands on either side of his face. It doesn’t feel weird to kiss Justin, though it probably, definitely should. It feels like she’s done it before. It feels like she’s done something right.
Mixed with Bad Advice
Wizards of Waverly Place. Alex/Justin. 1,528 words.
Warnings: incest, underage
Notes: Thanks so much to pirateygoodness for the beta help! Set after the WOWP movie.
Everything is different after the vacation’s over. Sure, their family was saved, the Russo children still exist, but now it’s like there’s this weight that wasn’t there before. The competition to keep their magic had always seemed like this far off thing, something that was going to happen, but not to her, maybe, and now it’s all she can think about these days.
And things are weird with Justin, too. She isn’t sure what exactly changed between them, but it’s tense, really tense. They snap at each other a lot more. Justin reads and studies more than ever, and Alex is willing to bet her favorite pair of shoes that he’s stocking up on magic that’ll let him keep his full powers once the competition comes around again.
She almost wishes she’d wished their memories away, too, except for how she doesn’t because she won, and she might never get over it. Maybe she should’ve tacked and everything wouldn’t get weird onto the end of the wish or something. She wishes she didn’t think about it so much. Then she imagines Justin saying, “If wishes were horses,” and trailing off with that smug, know-it-all look that’s like his default expression, and gets so annoyed that she pokes the real Justin in the side hard enough that he squawks.
*
Alex is grounded. Again. She can’t hang out, can’t leave home, can’t do magic, and basically the only thing she is allowed to do is, like, breathe.
So she sneaks into Justin’s room to pass the time while he’s somewhere else, probably at the library or some other geeky place she’s not familiar with. She goes through his desk, hoping she can find a notebook with something embarrassing that she can photocopy the crap out of and paper the walls at school with.
No such luck, but she does rearrange most of the items organized so carefully across the desktop. Justin’s so OCD about stuff like that, which is just great for her; she can annoy him a lot with the least amount of effort.
*
Justin hates it when Alex scratches her fingernails across the back of his neck, so, naturally, Alex does it as often as she can get away with. Not hard enough to hurt, light enough to almost tickle.
It’s not until she does it once and he actually shivers before jumping up, glaring at her and sputtering her name that she wonders why he hates it so much.
*
Alex starts sneaking into Justin’s room even when she’s not grounded, for reasons she can’t quite voice. She just-misses him. She misses the way they used to talk and tease each other, when it felt like they were doing it for fun, not to hurt. She never really does anything, though, just sits on his bed, or sometimes lies down. She does this pretty often until, once, she falls asleep and wakes up, disoriented, to a bed and pillows that don’t smell like her own.
What’s even more disconcerting is finding Justin in the living room after she sneaks back out. He must’ve known she was in his room, on his bed. Why didn’t he wake her up, kick her out? But Alex doesn’t bring it up, and neither does Justin.
*
“I’m going to win,” Alex says, mouth pressed to Justin’s ear. “Again.”
Justin pushes her so she falls back onto his bed, follows her down and holds himself up over her, looking. He’s just looking at her, eyes dark and serious, and yet-Alex wants to kick and push and squirm until he does something, anything.
Justin presses her down, touches her everywhere, kisses her all over, and the realization that that’s what made Justin’s eyes so dark, made him lick his lips, is enough to wake Alex from her dream.
She feels too hot, so she kicks off the covers, turns onto her side and presses her legs together, hard. It’s a long while before she falls back asleep.
*
Magic lessons in the lair are not something Alex has ever really looked forward to, but they’re definitely one of her least favorite things now. Now, they mostly consist of Justin doing the spells before their dad even manages to finish explaining anything, so pleased with himself afterwards, and Alex glaring daggers at him from across the room.
The day they learn to turn household objects into food, Justin turns a vase into an entire meal, complete with a fancy arrangement on a fancy looking plate. Alex turns a pillow into a live chicken. Max turns a broom into a mop.
Max scratches his head. “That was supposed to be a banana split,” he says, as their father chases after the chicken when it runs out of the lair.
“It’s a pretty simple spell, you know,” Justin says. He may be talking to Max, but he’s looking at Alex. “If you would only focus on the food you want, like you’re supposed to.”
Alex makes a face at him. “Yeah, well, I’m sure you have enough focus for all of us, seeing as how you put so much focus on studying, you have no life.”
Justin lets out a fake sounding laugh. “Then at least you’ll have a life to look forward to after all my focus lets me win the wizard competition.”
Alex smiles at him. “Unlike you, dear brother, I’m pretty sure I can win and have a life.”
It seems Justin has nothing to say to that, so he settles for glaring at her, arms crossed over his chest. She glares back.
“Okay,” Max says, slowly. “So. Anyone up for ice cream? I’m pretty sure I’ll get it right this time.”
*
When she’s finally fed up, she corners Justin in his room where he’s bent over his desk, head buried in a book so thick it makes Alex’s head ache just looking at it. She flicks his ear to get his attention.
“Okay, look,” she says. “Everything’s been really weird since we got back, and I know you know it, too. Normally, I wouldn’t say anything about it, but this is getting ridiculous. I’ve even been getting, uh, you know.” She waves her hand to encompass all the ways in which the weirdness between them has been affecting her.
Justin looks half confused, half annoyed. “Stress-related symptoms?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that. I’ve just had trouble sleeping and keep getting headaches all the time.”
Justin rolls his eyes. “Stress-related symptoms,” he repeats.
Oh. “Oh. Well. Whatever,” she says. “The point is, you should get over whatever problem it is that you have.” She adds, “Like, now,” when he only stares at her.
Justin stands up, holding his hands out as if he were attempting to ward off a crazy person. “There’s nothing weird.”
Alex makes a frustrated sound, nearly throws her hands up. “This is all because of the competition, isn’t it?” Justin’s expression seems to shut down, and Alex almost wants to shout, Aha! She knew it. “Seriously, Justin? Get over it.”
“Get over it?” Justin echoes, brow furrowing. “Get over the fact that my kid sis, who’s barely even studied a fraction of the magic I have, beat me in the family wizard competition? Oh, sure.”
“Yes!” she snaps. “Stop being a sore loser and get over it, because it’s going to happen again.”
Justin’s eyes widen, mouth opening, and she cuts him off, says, “God, no, I don’t mean me beating you again, I mean the competition will happen again. And I might win. You might win. There’s a very, very tiny chance that even Max might win. But until then, can we just go back to normal? Please?”
Because she’s tired of feeling so angry and annoyed all the time, she doesn’t add. She wants her brother back.
Alex almost thinks Justin will say no, that everything’s changed, for good, and there’s nothing she can do about it, but then his shoulders slump and his expression softens. He says, “Okay,” and, “I’m sorry,” and then Alex is moving to hug him tight and close, press her face against his neck.
“You were being pretty weird, too,” he says, cheek against her hair. His arms are just as tight, wrapped around her waist.
“Only because you were, first,” she says, which is kind of lame, but she doesn’t care. She’s mostly proud that her voice doesn’t waver and crack, even though, stupidly enough, she feels like she might possibly be on the verge of feeling some serious emotions, or something. She can’t help it; she’s missed him, even if he hasn’t actually gone anywhere.
“Justin, do me a favor,” she says, words warm against his throat. He nods. “Promise me. Promise we won’t change, whatever happens in the competition. Whoever wins.”
Justin’s hand slides down her side, grips her hip. He does promise, then says, “You do it, too.”
“I promise,” she says, and pulls back to seal it with a kiss, hands on either side of his face. It doesn’t feel weird to kiss Justin, though it probably, definitely should. It feels like she’s done it before. It feels like she’s done something right.