fic; sound breaks the spell
fic; sound breaks the spell
Wizards of Waverly Place
Author: JesterDala
Pairings/Characters: Justin/Alex
Rating: PG, language
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: if they make no sound, they can't be heard
Notes: I have no idea of the age difference between the two, so these ages are entirely my own
~
She's quiet, and he's pretty sure it's the sweetest sound he's ever heard.
There is still the ticktickticking of her pocketwatch necklace and the wet, heavy sound of her swallowing at the back of her throat, but for the first time since he returned from Georgetown this summer, it's quiet. A heavy quiet.
He feels like he always does in a library when it dawns on him that he's the only one still in non-fiction then every joint that bends seems to creak like an aged old man's. He feels as if even the sound of his perusing fingers would wake the dead.
So he's grateful when her own stretch out in front of her in what could be mistaken for a silent expression of, "It was this long, I swear". Her arms remain stationary, but those long fingers splay out in front of her like fans and he's astounded to find that he was wrong. They make no noise at all.
As smart as he is, she's somehow managed to turn the tables on him again. He was wrong.
He is wrong.
The feeling of wrongness doesn't go away when her fingertips stretch out to grace the hem of his T-shirt. She still hasn't moved an inch except for her hands. Just her hands. Just her hands? She's never still, and because of this, he's scared that he broke her. Here he was supposed to keep her safe, that was what she was born to have him do, he was supposed to protect her, but this room at this time with this silence was the most dangerous place they'd been in their entire lives.
But goddammit, was she protected.
Fingertips had nearly reached him, not quite yet, but he could already feel them before they pressed up against his shirt and the material scrubbed against his stomach as she found his solid body in the middle of the room while hey look she had been standing next to him the whole time so close they could have been one person already. In essence, they already were.
That freaked him the fuck out.
Yet his body was the same as it had been for 20 years, hers the same it had been for 17, nothing was changed and still she was looking at him like it was new land she could explore and conquer. Like she completely lost herself under her total focus on him. And she *never* lost her self-awareness. She was one of the most selfish and self-serving people he had ever met. And here she was, so unaware of herself that were he any sort of a gambling man (ha!), he would would lay odds that she had no idea where her hands had landed.
He, however, was *completely* aware.
A decidedly un-manly blush colored his neck. She could always get a reaction from him.
Damn her.
Damn her to hell because that was exactly where they were going.
And he was sure the flames rolling up his belly from the heat of her hands was only the beginning of greater hell to come. The hell that comes from being sojustthisclose and, because of everything, not able to reach back to the one thing in the world he wants a taste of more than anything and be the one thing in the world she looks like she wants to possess.
If that isn't hell, what is?
God, he couldn't even focus on how the heart in his chest was exploding in restraint or the gravel was weighing at the bottom of his stomach because her hands, THOSE HANDS DAMMIT, were on his chest and had finally reached skin and his neck where she must notice the blush now but if she did she didn't say anything maybe she liked it liked that she caused it.
His whole face was on fire now. His head was heavy and swirling and sort of thumping and he felt the same pulse in her thumb. That made him feel alive at the same time that a terrible sorrow filled his lungs when sucked in a breath. He was practically gasping at oxygen like a fish just for something to do, all the while careful to keep completely silent.
But it wasn't like anyone could hear them. Mom and Dad had gone out to dinner, Max to a friend's house for the night. Yet he and Alex were almost like rabbits, any sudden sound enough to make them want to break and scatter, and honestly (I'M GOING TO HELL I AM GOING TO HELL), he was more afraid of that than anything else.
But then it didn't matter that he couldn't think enough to move or stop or DO THE RIGHT THING because he expects it will be a disaster either way so why not just let it happen oh my God he sounds just like Alex what is going on here? She's gotten so under his skin that his mind was aligned with hers.
They had once been on an even plain, the scales balanced. Then someone had begun to move. He thinks she was the first, but now that he considers, it could have been him. Did it really matter anymore, when the whole scale was tippingtippingtipping over and he was so dizzy that he couldn't even see whose fault it was anymore?
He was falling now, they both were, their planets spun out of orbit into each other and he just felt skin when they collided nothing but skin and hell and he wanted to leap up and scream and throw up but all he did was feel and HELL it was good.