A Primitive Concept
Title: A Primitive Concept
Fandom: Rocky Horror
Pairing: RiffxMagenta
Warnings: Incest and a bit to fluffy for my liking at the end
Summary: Little idea about how Riff and Magenta's special relationship might've started
A/N: Took me a while to force this out, so I apologise if it doesn't read well or whatever
Disclaimer: Rocky Horror and everything in its universe belongs to Sir Richard O'Brien
***
“Where are you going?”
Riff Raff stopped, paused for a moment, and turned around quickly. To anyone other than Magenta, he was simply grinning. But she knew him, inside and out, and she saw something behind that mischievous smile which charmed so many. He slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned back, shrugging one shoulder.
Magenta thought he looked like a school boy who’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t. That’s how she knew that, wherever he was going, she wouldn’t like it. Where Riff relaxed, his elder sister stiffened. She folded her arms across her stomach and stared at him, green eyes focussed and unyielding as they silently demanded an answer.
He shifted. “Out. How do I look?”
The sound of unease, of guilt, which found its way into his voice, explained everything to Magenta. Where he was going, why he was going there… That he was growing up. Outgrowing her. It made her feel sick, and as much as she wanted to mutter a reply and leave him to it, she found herself rooted to the spot, staring at him. She had no right, she knew that, but she couldn’t stop herself.
She’d seen how the girls at the school looked at him. Pathetic creatures. It was nauseating, but not unjust. Her brother was a beautiful specimen, with chopped blond hair, a solid jaw and cutting cheekbones, and deep blue eyes that spoke a million anguishes but concealed everything. The silent mystery he exuded thrilled many, and thus, they strove to get to know him.
Until now, Magenta had been confident that they would not succeed. Until now, Riff Raff had never gone out with anyone. Until now, Magenta had not felt threatened.
As though making her judgement, her eyes scanned him slowly. “With whom?”
“You never answered my question, Genta.” He rotated on the spot for her to get a proper look, and her eyes saw through him. “Well?” They simply stared at one another for a moment, him requesting an answer, her demanding one. He tried to disarm her with a smile, but her expression remained stony.
“Who is she, Riff Raff?” Magenta’s voice was firmer, louder, and the smile began to slip from her brother’s face. He mirrored her stance, her steely gaze, and though he masked it well, Magenta saw the confusion swimming in his eyes…
It’d always been like that between them: they just… got each other. Or they had. Recently, the level of communication between them - silent or otherwise - had disintegrated. Where they once had discussed anything and everything, they now barely looked at each other.
He could no longer meet her eyes.
The dynamic of their relationship had changed when Magenta graduated from school. It had been sudden and unexpected, but they’d stopped being best friends, skipped the part where they could just be brother and sister, and became virtual strangers. As of late, Riff Raff had been extracting himself from his studies, staying out later and avoiding his sister when he was home.
She felt herself growing steadily more annoyed. With him, with herself, with the situation. Why had he shut her out? Perhaps he had foreseen this moment and wanted to spare her, but eeping her in the dark only served to anger her. Terrify her.
Riff Raff had inadvertently fuelled Magenta’s fire.
“What’s it to you, sister?”
Magenta stepped back and half-turned away from Riff Raff, smiled wryly and lowered her eyes. “Nothing,” she muttered, “nothing. Look, I’ll see you later...” her mouth opened to add ‘have a nice night’; the words were never allowed to hit the air.
“Magenta?”
“See you later.”
***
As much as he wanted to forget about it, the image of Magenta’s embarrassed face lingered with Riff Raff for the rest of the evening.
The conversation with his ‘date’ was tedious, trivial, and instead of focussing, he found himself drifting back to the earlier confrontation with his sister. Still, he nodded and smiled in the right places and the girl seemed pleased. Pathetic creature.
He’d never done this before, and tonight, he found out why.
What he still didn’t understand, however, was why he’d changed his mind in the first place. Never before had he felt the need to go out with anyone… Not until he realised that nobody else spent as much time with their siblings as he did with Magenta. Nobody had pointed it out to him - he’d just realised, and it scared him.
Now - if this one was anything to go by - he also realised that girls were boring. He ended the little date as soon as he could, mumbling an excuse that not even he believed. Were he not too preoccupied, perhaps he would’ve felt bad,
The glimmering moonlight and his curious thoughts accompanied him during the walk home.
Home. The place his elder sister had whisked him to as soon as she came of age, freeing him from the quietly malignant atmosphere of the old place they’d been brought up in. He frowned as he opened the front door: she’d saved him. It wasn’t meant to go that way.
His silhouette framed the doorway in the moment he took to indulge in the image before him. The room was tidy, with low, enigmatic lights and a spicy scent satisfying the air. In the year they’d been living there, Riff Raff had never seen it look so proper. Magenta most certainly would not have cleaned for fun, nor propriety… No, no, she was angry, and she’d busied herself.
“Genta?”
Ah, silence. It was too early for her to be asleep, too late for her to just to have popped out. He concluded, with a roll of his eyes, that she simply wasn’t speaking to him. Making his way upstairs through the darkness was quite comforting. It was something that united them, made them feel at ease.
“What?” she called before his knuckles had chance to rap against the dark wood of her bedroom door.
“Charming.” He entered her room without permission, as usual, and was unsurprised to see that it was chaotic. It made sense: Magenta basked in the disarray. Riff Raff noticed that a few licentious statues had been smashed, their pieces left to litter the floor and threaten to slice her bare feet open. Her bedclothes were torn, and a knife was stuck in the thick oak door, vibrating precariously. So she’d had a tantrum. Riff Raff’s face split into a smile.
“What?” she repeated, not looking up from her book, though he could tell she was no longer reading.
“You.”
“Ah yes, me.”
The blond moved to sit on the edge of her bed, shrugging off his coat and trying not to look at her. Now they lived alone, she’d become even less concerned with the amount of clothes she wore. Blue eyes had lingered on her for a second as he walked in, but he couldn’t luxuriate in her, all sinful curves, slender legs and subtle breasts. When he looked at her, he directed his gaze at her face, labouring to forbid his eyes from wandering. “What brought… this on then, dear sister?”
How could he be expected to trust himself when shewas all so enticing? Her red hair fell in loose curls about her shoulders, partially shielding deep, smoky green eyes which stared through darkened eyelashes, her full, crimson lips inviting and rejecting him all at once.
She paused for a moment, before snapping her book shut, glaring at him. “Irrelevant. What do you want?”
He met her stare hesitantly, his lips still wearing that charismatic smile. “I just came to see if you were alright. There’s a certain degree of order downstairs, you see, which made me wonder if someone had kidnapped you and tried to cover their trail.”
“Girlfriend dump you for making shit jokes?” She moved to the window, and Riff knew that she was admiring the way the moonlights illuminated the tides. His lip twitched as he stared at her silhouette. “What do you want?”
“Still trying to work that out, Genta,” he admitted with a sigh. Slowly, she turned around, arms folded defensively even as her face softened. “I’m somewhat flummoxed.”
“It’s a primitive concept,” she smiled for the first time that night. “You want me.”
***
The room seemed to freeze for longer than it actually did. Icy blue eyes met fiery green ones. For once, Magenta could not read her brother. He’d shut her out. Though her smile did not waver, though her body maintained its confident posture, the silence was a taunting entity which made her question her judgement. She had been sure, though in the time that they stared, a million alternative theories raced through her mind.
And then she blinked, pulling them away from their separate, cloudy thoughts and back to the present…
To what Magenta had just stated.
She raised an eyebrow, propping herself against the windowsill. Calm and convincing though her façade was, her insides were squirming and her nerves were fraying under his scrutiny. Embarrassment attempted to battle its way to her face; she suppressed it.
Not willing to be the one to break the silence - for she did not know quite what to say - Magenta busied herself with lighting a cigarette on the flicker of a candle and bringing it to her lips. She inclined her head towards the discarded packet, gesturing for him to take one. He didn’t move.
Her laughter mingled with the smoke as she exhaled, the combination polluting the already foggy air. She relaxed. What did it matter if she’d been wrong? She would tell him she was messing with his head and then they’d laugh about it, for that was what siblings did. The reaction the redhead was hoping for, however, demonstrated something that most definitely wasn’t ‘what siblings did’.
And, honestly, she didn’t care.
“Oh yes?” He questioned, smirking. Whether it was for the right reasons or not, Magenta wasn’t sure, but her brother was obviously amused by something.
She nodded, “I think so, yes,” she exhaled slowly, her lips curving smoke into rippling circles.
“How can you tell?”
“I know you, my dear brother… Oh,” she laughed again, the mania only serving to augment her strange beauty, “and it’s wrong, yes? Darling, it’s all the rage nowadays.” Strangely, she spoke the truth. Incest had been glamorised on Transsexual as of late, but she watched people. She saw how relatives sometimes looked at each other, and why not? Who decided that it was wrong? Although the commercialisation of such love sickened Magenta, she knew it could work to their advantage.
Provided, of course, that Riff actually did want her. That he wasn’t just humouring her, purely to delight in her horror when she realised what he was doing. Magenta did not consider herself to be an insecure young woman, but her thoughts betrayed this belief.
“You’re relatively positive?”
She dropped the cigarette end out of the window and into the street below, stepping closer to him. “Yes.” Her heart was beating loudly, but she could quieten it with her conviction. “Relatively.”
“Ah, so you’re not certain.”
She pulled him to her, pressing her slight frame against his taller one, eyes travelling his face avariciously, palms flat against his chest. They stayed like that for a moment, before she reached up and kissed him. His lips were surprisingly warm, firm… Resistant. Fuck. This had gone too far to be passed off as her toying with him now, and their relationship could be damaged forever. She was not sure she could handle that.
He would move on; he was more socially adept than she was, and although she matched and exceeded him on other levels, without him, she knew she would sink. It had been she who’d saved him, yet he was her stanchion. Her oh-so cliché ‘raison d'être’. She pulled away from him, eyes searching his for any signs. Damn him and his barriers! “But quite confident.”
He responded by pressing her back against the wall.
Magenta laughed into his fervent kiss.
***
The fact that he was stalling for time had been tactfully masked by the illusion that he was teasing her. As he’d spoken, Riff Raff had been trying to work out whether his sister was being serious, whether she actually knew of his feelings… Normally, he would’ve immediately recognised her hesitance, but this topic was too different.
It wasn’t until she pushed herself against him that he knew this was real. Her eyes had confirmed that she’d known the truth - before he’d even known it himself - but concealed whether or not she felt similarly. Her actions would suggest that she did, but Riff knew better than to just accept the obvious with Magenta. She was a strange, playful creature who could make a mystery out of anything, with so much more to her than she translated.
With this new and foreign ambience between them, Riff had taken a chance in responding to her sinful advances. His head spinning, heart pulsing and body screaming, how could he possibly arbitrate the validity of what was happening? Moments previously, she had been refusing to speak to him properly; this could all be a cruel ploy to humiliate him.
But that wasn’t Magenta, and when she laughed, he knew it was because she’d won. The argument, and him. It signified her relief.
“How could you tell?” his breath was hot as he murmured the question into her neck, which he peppered with rough kisses. He didn’t need to look to know that she was smiling.
“I know you,” she answered, threading her hands in his hair, “besides,” she continued, guiding his face back up to be level with her own, “you’ve been making a show of not looking at me. You’ve never been embarrassed before.”
He studied her for a moment, cool smirk tugging at his lips, before he kissed her again, disguising his discomfiture. In trying to shut her out, he’d opened his mind to her, allowed her to see everything that he’d hidden from himself. Quite why he’d felt so guilty about his lust for her, he wasn’t sure. As she’d earlier reminded him, incest had become quite a popular thing…
And there it was. They were away from their parents now, free to do whatever they pleased. In this environment, Riff’s feelings for Magenta had been allowed to thrive and sizzle until he had no choice but to close himself off, for fear of what would happen if he didn’t. And he didn’t want her to think that his interest was only in correspondence with what was ‘cool’ lately. He was more mature than that, but others weren’t.
Her hands flicked the buttons of his shirt open casually, as though she’d done this many times before, and Riff faltered. He’d barely lost his virginity: he’d slept with one girl after Magenta had brought her latest boyfriend home, and that was the full extent of his sexual encounters. “Genta, I’m not-”
“Hush,” her voice was a sharp whisper, and Riff found himself oddly soothed, “it’s fine.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, then,” he replied through a laugh, hands snaking to unclasp her bra. She quirked an eyebrow, arching into him, and he kissed her forehead. For a moment, he just held her, their bare torsos pressed flush together, the heat of their skin fusing, crackling through the night.
Haunted, it was Magenta who was first to disrupt the blaring silence. “Riff, I didn’t mean to push you…” she locked her hands behind his neck, burying her face in the crook of his neck, “we don’t have to-”
“Not a chance.”
***
The dominant finality in his voice roused a soft moan from the red-head. She reached between them and undid his trousers, slipping the tips of her fingers beneath the band of his silken underwear and stroking the skin there. Riff, she noted, was diffident and somewhat clumsy; something which pleased her, for this, she understood, meant that few others had had him.
Whereas she’d tried to block out her lust for her sibling with other men, he refused to justify his withsins of the flesh. An impulsive confrontation of jealousy proved that they’d been dancing around this for too long - it had only been a matter of time…
And at that moment, the fact that they were siblings existed as a pathetic, irrelevant buzz. At that moment, they were simply Riff Raff and Magenta, and there was nothing else.
His prudent touches and hot kisses, united in their inexperience, mystified Magenta. They were acted with such candour that it made her head spin. The calm patience her brother possessed was new to her, and for a moment, she allowed herself to become overwhelmed. She was not stupid enough to believe that all her past lovers cared for her, even liked her… but being like this with Riff made her realise that she’d been nothing more than their whore.
As he laid her back against the soft, cold sheets, she knew he’d noticed her react to the brief, flowing memories. Her attempts at distraction proved futile; he tilted her chin, removing her cruel, beautiful mouth from his slender chest, and silently analysed her face.
And then a small, accepting smile stole his lips; she was just as embarrassed about her experience as he was about his lack of it. She smiled back, delicate fingers tracing the sharp of his jaw-line whilst his grateful hands shaped the hourglass of her body.
By the time they’d unclothed and spent adequate time lavishing in one another, hours might have gone by. Days even. “Like you’re under sedation,” she whispered mellifluously, need burning in her eyes as she arched into him. They both moaned, loud and pure, as he entered her.
Magenta wondered how something so damnable could feel so perfect.
His mouth travelled down the column of her neck to her breast, where it teased and tortured, abused and consoled, and Magenta writhed, gasped for air and whispered futilities. His thrusts were firm, his body softer than she expected, and the juxtaposition confused and excited Magenta. With heavy eyelids she watched him, their eyes burning as they locked, and they were lost.
Time seemed a world away when they were together, indulging in one another, extracting their sweetest and most bitter pleasures. They pooled in Magenta’s stomach, fusing with sporadic crackles until she was completely consumed by them. Her hands were frantic, desperate, against his flushed skin as her orgasm approached. Clinging to him, body shaking and back curved, she pressed her lips to his.
Her nails clawed into the white of Riff’s hot skin, and Magenta smiled in the knowledge that they would join the marks her brutal mouth had made, stay on him for days and remind them both of what had happened… Even if they didn’t want to once they’d reached completion and come back down to Transexual, where time moved languidly onwards and they were brother and sister once more.
She murmured his name as she came, her lips brushing his ear as she uttered the words fashioned for him. Only him. She continued to meet his thrusts, hooking one leg around his waist, drawing him closer, until she felt orgasm wash over him. They stayed like that for a moment, before collapsing in a tangle of sweat, limbs and battered kisses, their chests rising and falling in an uneasy melody.
But time did not continue, and they were still just Riff and Magenta. Their smiling eyes met, and in that fleeting, forever moment, they both understood that this was it for them.
For the rest of their lives.
Fandom: Rocky Horror
Pairing: RiffxMagenta
Warnings: Incest and a bit to fluffy for my liking at the end
Summary: Little idea about how Riff and Magenta's special relationship might've started
A/N: Took me a while to force this out, so I apologise if it doesn't read well or whatever
Disclaimer: Rocky Horror and everything in its universe belongs to Sir Richard O'Brien
***
“Where are you going?”
Riff Raff stopped, paused for a moment, and turned around quickly. To anyone other than Magenta, he was simply grinning. But she knew him, inside and out, and she saw something behind that mischievous smile which charmed so many. He slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned back, shrugging one shoulder.
Magenta thought he looked like a school boy who’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t. That’s how she knew that, wherever he was going, she wouldn’t like it. Where Riff relaxed, his elder sister stiffened. She folded her arms across her stomach and stared at him, green eyes focussed and unyielding as they silently demanded an answer.
He shifted. “Out. How do I look?”
The sound of unease, of guilt, which found its way into his voice, explained everything to Magenta. Where he was going, why he was going there… That he was growing up. Outgrowing her. It made her feel sick, and as much as she wanted to mutter a reply and leave him to it, she found herself rooted to the spot, staring at him. She had no right, she knew that, but she couldn’t stop herself.
She’d seen how the girls at the school looked at him. Pathetic creatures. It was nauseating, but not unjust. Her brother was a beautiful specimen, with chopped blond hair, a solid jaw and cutting cheekbones, and deep blue eyes that spoke a million anguishes but concealed everything. The silent mystery he exuded thrilled many, and thus, they strove to get to know him.
Until now, Magenta had been confident that they would not succeed. Until now, Riff Raff had never gone out with anyone. Until now, Magenta had not felt threatened.
As though making her judgement, her eyes scanned him slowly. “With whom?”
“You never answered my question, Genta.” He rotated on the spot for her to get a proper look, and her eyes saw through him. “Well?” They simply stared at one another for a moment, him requesting an answer, her demanding one. He tried to disarm her with a smile, but her expression remained stony.
“Who is she, Riff Raff?” Magenta’s voice was firmer, louder, and the smile began to slip from her brother’s face. He mirrored her stance, her steely gaze, and though he masked it well, Magenta saw the confusion swimming in his eyes…
It’d always been like that between them: they just… got each other. Or they had. Recently, the level of communication between them - silent or otherwise - had disintegrated. Where they once had discussed anything and everything, they now barely looked at each other.
He could no longer meet her eyes.
The dynamic of their relationship had changed when Magenta graduated from school. It had been sudden and unexpected, but they’d stopped being best friends, skipped the part where they could just be brother and sister, and became virtual strangers. As of late, Riff Raff had been extracting himself from his studies, staying out later and avoiding his sister when he was home.
She felt herself growing steadily more annoyed. With him, with herself, with the situation. Why had he shut her out? Perhaps he had foreseen this moment and wanted to spare her, but eeping her in the dark only served to anger her. Terrify her.
Riff Raff had inadvertently fuelled Magenta’s fire.
“What’s it to you, sister?”
Magenta stepped back and half-turned away from Riff Raff, smiled wryly and lowered her eyes. “Nothing,” she muttered, “nothing. Look, I’ll see you later...” her mouth opened to add ‘have a nice night’; the words were never allowed to hit the air.
“Magenta?”
“See you later.”
***
As much as he wanted to forget about it, the image of Magenta’s embarrassed face lingered with Riff Raff for the rest of the evening.
The conversation with his ‘date’ was tedious, trivial, and instead of focussing, he found himself drifting back to the earlier confrontation with his sister. Still, he nodded and smiled in the right places and the girl seemed pleased. Pathetic creature.
He’d never done this before, and tonight, he found out why.
What he still didn’t understand, however, was why he’d changed his mind in the first place. Never before had he felt the need to go out with anyone… Not until he realised that nobody else spent as much time with their siblings as he did with Magenta. Nobody had pointed it out to him - he’d just realised, and it scared him.
Now - if this one was anything to go by - he also realised that girls were boring. He ended the little date as soon as he could, mumbling an excuse that not even he believed. Were he not too preoccupied, perhaps he would’ve felt bad,
The glimmering moonlight and his curious thoughts accompanied him during the walk home.
Home. The place his elder sister had whisked him to as soon as she came of age, freeing him from the quietly malignant atmosphere of the old place they’d been brought up in. He frowned as he opened the front door: she’d saved him. It wasn’t meant to go that way.
His silhouette framed the doorway in the moment he took to indulge in the image before him. The room was tidy, with low, enigmatic lights and a spicy scent satisfying the air. In the year they’d been living there, Riff Raff had never seen it look so proper. Magenta most certainly would not have cleaned for fun, nor propriety… No, no, she was angry, and she’d busied herself.
“Genta?”
Ah, silence. It was too early for her to be asleep, too late for her to just to have popped out. He concluded, with a roll of his eyes, that she simply wasn’t speaking to him. Making his way upstairs through the darkness was quite comforting. It was something that united them, made them feel at ease.
“What?” she called before his knuckles had chance to rap against the dark wood of her bedroom door.
“Charming.” He entered her room without permission, as usual, and was unsurprised to see that it was chaotic. It made sense: Magenta basked in the disarray. Riff Raff noticed that a few licentious statues had been smashed, their pieces left to litter the floor and threaten to slice her bare feet open. Her bedclothes were torn, and a knife was stuck in the thick oak door, vibrating precariously. So she’d had a tantrum. Riff Raff’s face split into a smile.
“What?” she repeated, not looking up from her book, though he could tell she was no longer reading.
“You.”
“Ah yes, me.”
The blond moved to sit on the edge of her bed, shrugging off his coat and trying not to look at her. Now they lived alone, she’d become even less concerned with the amount of clothes she wore. Blue eyes had lingered on her for a second as he walked in, but he couldn’t luxuriate in her, all sinful curves, slender legs and subtle breasts. When he looked at her, he directed his gaze at her face, labouring to forbid his eyes from wandering. “What brought… this on then, dear sister?”
How could he be expected to trust himself when shewas all so enticing? Her red hair fell in loose curls about her shoulders, partially shielding deep, smoky green eyes which stared through darkened eyelashes, her full, crimson lips inviting and rejecting him all at once.
She paused for a moment, before snapping her book shut, glaring at him. “Irrelevant. What do you want?”
He met her stare hesitantly, his lips still wearing that charismatic smile. “I just came to see if you were alright. There’s a certain degree of order downstairs, you see, which made me wonder if someone had kidnapped you and tried to cover their trail.”
“Girlfriend dump you for making shit jokes?” She moved to the window, and Riff knew that she was admiring the way the moonlights illuminated the tides. His lip twitched as he stared at her silhouette. “What do you want?”
“Still trying to work that out, Genta,” he admitted with a sigh. Slowly, she turned around, arms folded defensively even as her face softened. “I’m somewhat flummoxed.”
“It’s a primitive concept,” she smiled for the first time that night. “You want me.”
***
The room seemed to freeze for longer than it actually did. Icy blue eyes met fiery green ones. For once, Magenta could not read her brother. He’d shut her out. Though her smile did not waver, though her body maintained its confident posture, the silence was a taunting entity which made her question her judgement. She had been sure, though in the time that they stared, a million alternative theories raced through her mind.
And then she blinked, pulling them away from their separate, cloudy thoughts and back to the present…
To what Magenta had just stated.
She raised an eyebrow, propping herself against the windowsill. Calm and convincing though her façade was, her insides were squirming and her nerves were fraying under his scrutiny. Embarrassment attempted to battle its way to her face; she suppressed it.
Not willing to be the one to break the silence - for she did not know quite what to say - Magenta busied herself with lighting a cigarette on the flicker of a candle and bringing it to her lips. She inclined her head towards the discarded packet, gesturing for him to take one. He didn’t move.
Her laughter mingled with the smoke as she exhaled, the combination polluting the already foggy air. She relaxed. What did it matter if she’d been wrong? She would tell him she was messing with his head and then they’d laugh about it, for that was what siblings did. The reaction the redhead was hoping for, however, demonstrated something that most definitely wasn’t ‘what siblings did’.
And, honestly, she didn’t care.
“Oh yes?” He questioned, smirking. Whether it was for the right reasons or not, Magenta wasn’t sure, but her brother was obviously amused by something.
She nodded, “I think so, yes,” she exhaled slowly, her lips curving smoke into rippling circles.
“How can you tell?”
“I know you, my dear brother… Oh,” she laughed again, the mania only serving to augment her strange beauty, “and it’s wrong, yes? Darling, it’s all the rage nowadays.” Strangely, she spoke the truth. Incest had been glamorised on Transsexual as of late, but she watched people. She saw how relatives sometimes looked at each other, and why not? Who decided that it was wrong? Although the commercialisation of such love sickened Magenta, she knew it could work to their advantage.
Provided, of course, that Riff actually did want her. That he wasn’t just humouring her, purely to delight in her horror when she realised what he was doing. Magenta did not consider herself to be an insecure young woman, but her thoughts betrayed this belief.
“You’re relatively positive?”
She dropped the cigarette end out of the window and into the street below, stepping closer to him. “Yes.” Her heart was beating loudly, but she could quieten it with her conviction. “Relatively.”
“Ah, so you’re not certain.”
She pulled him to her, pressing her slight frame against his taller one, eyes travelling his face avariciously, palms flat against his chest. They stayed like that for a moment, before she reached up and kissed him. His lips were surprisingly warm, firm… Resistant. Fuck. This had gone too far to be passed off as her toying with him now, and their relationship could be damaged forever. She was not sure she could handle that.
He would move on; he was more socially adept than she was, and although she matched and exceeded him on other levels, without him, she knew she would sink. It had been she who’d saved him, yet he was her stanchion. Her oh-so cliché ‘raison d'être’. She pulled away from him, eyes searching his for any signs. Damn him and his barriers! “But quite confident.”
He responded by pressing her back against the wall.
Magenta laughed into his fervent kiss.
***
The fact that he was stalling for time had been tactfully masked by the illusion that he was teasing her. As he’d spoken, Riff Raff had been trying to work out whether his sister was being serious, whether she actually knew of his feelings… Normally, he would’ve immediately recognised her hesitance, but this topic was too different.
It wasn’t until she pushed herself against him that he knew this was real. Her eyes had confirmed that she’d known the truth - before he’d even known it himself - but concealed whether or not she felt similarly. Her actions would suggest that she did, but Riff knew better than to just accept the obvious with Magenta. She was a strange, playful creature who could make a mystery out of anything, with so much more to her than she translated.
With this new and foreign ambience between them, Riff had taken a chance in responding to her sinful advances. His head spinning, heart pulsing and body screaming, how could he possibly arbitrate the validity of what was happening? Moments previously, she had been refusing to speak to him properly; this could all be a cruel ploy to humiliate him.
But that wasn’t Magenta, and when she laughed, he knew it was because she’d won. The argument, and him. It signified her relief.
“How could you tell?” his breath was hot as he murmured the question into her neck, which he peppered with rough kisses. He didn’t need to look to know that she was smiling.
“I know you,” she answered, threading her hands in his hair, “besides,” she continued, guiding his face back up to be level with her own, “you’ve been making a show of not looking at me. You’ve never been embarrassed before.”
He studied her for a moment, cool smirk tugging at his lips, before he kissed her again, disguising his discomfiture. In trying to shut her out, he’d opened his mind to her, allowed her to see everything that he’d hidden from himself. Quite why he’d felt so guilty about his lust for her, he wasn’t sure. As she’d earlier reminded him, incest had become quite a popular thing…
And there it was. They were away from their parents now, free to do whatever they pleased. In this environment, Riff’s feelings for Magenta had been allowed to thrive and sizzle until he had no choice but to close himself off, for fear of what would happen if he didn’t. And he didn’t want her to think that his interest was only in correspondence with what was ‘cool’ lately. He was more mature than that, but others weren’t.
Her hands flicked the buttons of his shirt open casually, as though she’d done this many times before, and Riff faltered. He’d barely lost his virginity: he’d slept with one girl after Magenta had brought her latest boyfriend home, and that was the full extent of his sexual encounters. “Genta, I’m not-”
“Hush,” her voice was a sharp whisper, and Riff found himself oddly soothed, “it’s fine.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, then,” he replied through a laugh, hands snaking to unclasp her bra. She quirked an eyebrow, arching into him, and he kissed her forehead. For a moment, he just held her, their bare torsos pressed flush together, the heat of their skin fusing, crackling through the night.
Haunted, it was Magenta who was first to disrupt the blaring silence. “Riff, I didn’t mean to push you…” she locked her hands behind his neck, burying her face in the crook of his neck, “we don’t have to-”
“Not a chance.”
***
The dominant finality in his voice roused a soft moan from the red-head. She reached between them and undid his trousers, slipping the tips of her fingers beneath the band of his silken underwear and stroking the skin there. Riff, she noted, was diffident and somewhat clumsy; something which pleased her, for this, she understood, meant that few others had had him.
Whereas she’d tried to block out her lust for her sibling with other men, he refused to justify his withsins of the flesh. An impulsive confrontation of jealousy proved that they’d been dancing around this for too long - it had only been a matter of time…
And at that moment, the fact that they were siblings existed as a pathetic, irrelevant buzz. At that moment, they were simply Riff Raff and Magenta, and there was nothing else.
His prudent touches and hot kisses, united in their inexperience, mystified Magenta. They were acted with such candour that it made her head spin. The calm patience her brother possessed was new to her, and for a moment, she allowed herself to become overwhelmed. She was not stupid enough to believe that all her past lovers cared for her, even liked her… but being like this with Riff made her realise that she’d been nothing more than their whore.
As he laid her back against the soft, cold sheets, she knew he’d noticed her react to the brief, flowing memories. Her attempts at distraction proved futile; he tilted her chin, removing her cruel, beautiful mouth from his slender chest, and silently analysed her face.
And then a small, accepting smile stole his lips; she was just as embarrassed about her experience as he was about his lack of it. She smiled back, delicate fingers tracing the sharp of his jaw-line whilst his grateful hands shaped the hourglass of her body.
By the time they’d unclothed and spent adequate time lavishing in one another, hours might have gone by. Days even. “Like you’re under sedation,” she whispered mellifluously, need burning in her eyes as she arched into him. They both moaned, loud and pure, as he entered her.
Magenta wondered how something so damnable could feel so perfect.
His mouth travelled down the column of her neck to her breast, where it teased and tortured, abused and consoled, and Magenta writhed, gasped for air and whispered futilities. His thrusts were firm, his body softer than she expected, and the juxtaposition confused and excited Magenta. With heavy eyelids she watched him, their eyes burning as they locked, and they were lost.
Time seemed a world away when they were together, indulging in one another, extracting their sweetest and most bitter pleasures. They pooled in Magenta’s stomach, fusing with sporadic crackles until she was completely consumed by them. Her hands were frantic, desperate, against his flushed skin as her orgasm approached. Clinging to him, body shaking and back curved, she pressed her lips to his.
Her nails clawed into the white of Riff’s hot skin, and Magenta smiled in the knowledge that they would join the marks her brutal mouth had made, stay on him for days and remind them both of what had happened… Even if they didn’t want to once they’d reached completion and come back down to Transexual, where time moved languidly onwards and they were brother and sister once more.
She murmured his name as she came, her lips brushing his ear as she uttered the words fashioned for him. Only him. She continued to meet his thrusts, hooking one leg around his waist, drawing him closer, until she felt orgasm wash over him. They stayed like that for a moment, before collapsing in a tangle of sweat, limbs and battered kisses, their chests rising and falling in an uneasy melody.
But time did not continue, and they were still just Riff and Magenta. Their smiling eyes met, and in that fleeting, forever moment, they both understood that this was it for them.
For the rest of their lives.