FIC: The Next Thousand Years (WOWP, Jalex, nc-17)
Well, Wizards of Waverly Place has finally finished. I haven't actually watched it in a while - mostly because most of the things I liked about the show - the family camaderie, the genuine comic timing, and the wonderful, vital chemistry between Alex and Justin - gave way to endless 'special' episodes, and constantly trying to shove down our throats that an emotionally abusive relationship was True Love - probably due to fucking Twilight, because the sales figures have convinced everyone trying for the teen and tween dollar that guys who can't take no for an answer and stalk their girlfriends until they take them back and decide that the guy's endangering the people they care about and themselves simply because they weren't slavishly devoted enough.
Anyway, one of fics, 'the only way out is through' was recommended on crack_van! The lovely praise as part of the rec inspired my muse to struggle free of Finchel for awhile, and get cracking on some new Jalex. I have several more in the works, including one set on and around Valentine's day, but that's part of a series and won't work very well without the christmas and new year's eve stories as well.
So this is the story I started right after I found out how things ended with the family competition (though I think it was better in the movie!), and now finished in time for V-Day.
TITLE: The Next Thousand Years
AUTHOUR: TaleWeaver
FANDOM/PAIRING: Wizards of Waverly Place, Justin/Alex
RATING/CONTENT: nc-17, m/f sex, consensual incest between siblings.
DISCLAIMER: The characters of WOWP belong to the Disney Channel, and lots of people who are not me. The song ‘A Thousand Years’ was written by Christina Perri and David Hodges. No profit is being made from this work, and no copyright infringement is intended.
SPOILERS: For the whole series. BIG spoilers for the series finale, ‘Who will be the family wizard?’
SUMMARY: Justin and Alex, alone at last, with no one left to hide from.
“I have died everyday waiting for you
Darling, don’t be afraid
I have loved you for a thousand years
I’ll love you for a thousand more.”
It was Justin and Alex’s great-grandfather that acquired the brownstone, right on the edge of what used to be Little Italy. No one from the mortal world ever comes here; in the wizarding world, this is known as the home of Justin Russo, the principal of WizTech and wizarding inventor. At one point, he was considered one of the prime catches of Wizarding high society - until a dark-haired beauty moved in with him twenty years ago. Speculation ran riot for years, as he kept dating other women for awhile, but no one ever lasted long. His long-time companion was obviously a wizard, too, but seemed to live mostly in the mortal world, so no one bothered to find out more. Wizarding Society was snobbish like that.
He was almost four when Max was born, and doesn't remember it at all. He was a year and a half old when Alex was born, and doesn't remember much about that, either - except the first time he saw her, cuddled in their mother’s arms, and he still swears she looked him straight in the eye and smirked at him.
Alex’s interviews appear in art magazines and in highly-select critical reviews, but she’s never been famous. Her work sells for four figures, sometimes even five - she’ll never join the six-figure club. But her creations hang in no less than three museums in New York, and several in Europe.
Almost everyone who comes in Justin’s office at WizTech admires the paintings; when he tells them the artist is only sold in the mortal world, he’s sometimes asked to act as an intermediary.
Twenty years ago, Justin opened the door to find Alex on the doorstep, bags piled around her and several easels and canvases floating in a neat stack behind her. Without a word, he stepped back and opened the door wide.
They spent the next week renovating the very topmost room into her studio - it now fully occupies what used to be the attic. Then they started on the rest of the house. Justin had lived there for thirty years, ever since his magical core replenished itself enough that he didn’t need to live at WizTech anymore, but he’d barely changed anything from when their grandfather lived there.
When Alex asked him why, he told her that he was waiting for her to come home.
There are brightly coloured cushions to lounge on and squashy armchairs, and ergonomically correct office furnishings. Chrome fixtures in the kitchen, reminiscent of the Sub Station. Ropes of magical fairy lights are wound through the railings of the staircase. Alex’s flea market habit is evident in the antique or beautiful or just strange objects scattered throughout - from a 1940s cigar store Indian, to a lovely but completely inaccurate map of Atlantis from the eighteenth century, hand-drawn by the captain of the legendary pirate ship the Black Pearl, a 1960’s ‘space age’ style loveseat, to the Victorian lamp-post that lights the matching gazebo in the back garden. Original comic book panels and collectible sci-fi posters hang on walls throughout the house, and the wallpaper changes in at least one room every month or so with a wave of Alex’s wand.
Juliet’s picture smiles in several places from the photo-covered wall in the dining room along with all the other family pictures; she married another vampire decades ago (another photo shows Justin and Alex as part of the wedding party) and is now raising a brood of her own to respect human life and not to kill.
There isn’t a single picture of Mason. Alex kicked him to the curb less than a year after the family competition, and he was glad to go; once Alex became a full wizard, the werewolf pheromones that influenced his chosen mate into acting like a properly submissive bitch didn’t work on her any more, and their relationship sank quicker than the Titanic.
Alex never stopped teasing him about his odd love life; never hid her satisfaction when relationship after relationship quickly hit the dust. The only girl she ever became friendly with was Juliet - who’d gently explained early on that she didn’t expect his life to revolve around her; of course she understood how important Alex and the rest of their family were to him.
Harper, Zeke, Mr Larritate, even Dean - anyone who knew them back when they were the wizards of Waverly Place would walk into this house and know that Justin and Alex Russo live here. But none of them ever have. No one ever gets to visit Justin and Alex’s private home. Jerry and Theresa both passed on before Alex moved in, and when Max married all the Russo’s decided that magic was something his wife and children didn’t need to know about - when Max lost the family competition, he also lost the ability to pass on the wizarding gene. Instead, Justin and Alex maintain carefully crafted glamour’s in the mortal world, facades that have changed and aged with the passing years. Max’s four children and six grandchildren have all marvelled at how gorgeous they both were in the pictures of their youth, but there are almost no photos of the two of them between college and their thirties.
That’s why all of the still-living Russo’s would wave in greeting to the aged man and woman who climb the steps of the brownstone today, but none of them would know the mid-twenties man and woman that walk into the living room. Even though the man is wearing Uncle Justin’s best dark suit, the one he saves for graduation ceremonies and weddings, and the woman is wearing Granta (short for Great-aunt) Alex’s prized vintage Chanel dress.
Alex shakes her body all over as she strides ahead of Justin (as usual) into the living room.
“As God is my witness, I’ll never wear wrinkles again!” she exclaims in an exaggerated Southern Belle accent.
“Alex,” Justin remonstrates from the hall. “We can’t just send a death announcement and disappear from their lives. Another year for you - maybe two for me.”
Alex tosses a grin over her shoulder, as Justin hangs her original Harper Finkle Romantic Longcoat from the Edwardian coat rack, standing in the hallway next to the frozen-gas credenza they found in the Crossings on Riharth B. “You just want to officially make it to eighty, so Alison will sing the ‘Space Cowboy’ theme at your party, like she promised.”
Her grin slides away, and sadness fills her eyes. “It was a lovely funeral, as they say. Max would have loved it - especially the video game tournament at the wake.”
Justin walks into the living room, running his hand through the thick, dark hair none of his living relatives would recognize, and sighs. “God knows it couldn’t have been worse than Zeke’s. I still can’t believe his daughter hired a couple of actors as pallbearers, because her cousins weren’t attractive enough.”
“He should never have broken up with Harper,” Alex sneers.
“It was her idea, Alex,” Justin reminds her. “At least we didn’t have to go through the same mess at hers - she was sensible enough to marry someone who loved her for everything she was,” he can’t help but grin, “including her dress sense.”
Alex smiles and nods. So many fans of her children’s books had come to the funeral, that several of the attendees thought they’d come to a convention by accident. Alex hadn’t been able to stop crying until right before her eulogy - though she’d soon had the whole congregation in stitches recounting some of her and Harper’s adventures as teenagers.
Justin sighs again, as he undoes the retro Space Invaders tie that his little brother bought him for his college graduation. Max was the last to go. There is no longer any living being who knows exactly who Justin and Alex Russo are.
He smiles at Alex. At least there will be no more funerals for people they love.
Alex smiles back, and something is shifting and she’s starting to smile at him in way she never has before.
Justin takes a step back, but before the doubt and hurt creeps in he gestures to the table, where he left a bottle of champagne with a chilling spell, and two crystal goblets. “Let’s make a toast, first.”
He needs to make one last acknowledgment of their past - one last promise to their future.
Understanding blooms in Alex’s smile, and she nods.
Justin fills the glasses with the icy bubbly sweetness of the wine, shimmering with the palest shade of gold, and offers one to Alex. Instead, she keeps smiling and slowly takes the pins out of her hair, setting it free from the French twist she’d worn it in for the funeral. She’s kept her hair shoulder-length and smooth for most of the past decades, but started growing it out again fairly recently, and now a tousled fall of black silk tumbles over her shoulders and halfway down her back, just like when they held each other tightly in a mountain cave in the Caribbean, the Stone of Dreams clenched in his fist.
All he could do was look around in confusion, because he didn't know anything about the situation and didn't even know his own name, but the most beautiful girl in the world was calling him 'Justin', and even though he didn't know her name either, he knew that he'd never leave her.
Justin takes a deep breath, and something inside him wakes, straining against the barriers he built as a teenager. It knows it will be set free soon.
Alex’s eyes sparkle with anticipation, and he can already sense the matching hidden in her, rising to meet his. She has always kept it just a little closer to the surface than he did.
She takes the glass from his outstretched hand, and clinks it against his. “To Max.”
“To Max.”
They drink, eyes locked, and Justin holds his glass out again. Alex reaches out in return, the crystal rims chiming as they kiss, and Justin feels the barriers cracking.
“To the next thousand years.”
Alex’s eyes go soft, and she breathes her reply. “To the next thousand years.”
They sip again, and consume the rest of the wine slowly. The tension between them is crackling with electricity, the air they breathe thrumming as it builds. It’s a sort of pleasurable agony to restrain himself, in these last few moments before the hidden is released, and its howl of anticipation echoes inside his head.
Justin sets his glass down with a clink, and so does Alex.
Their eyes lock, and the barrier shatters. What has been hidden for so long floods through him, soaking through his flesh and bones until his skin is the only fragile container.
Justin’s heart starts to pound in his ears, and knows his eyes have filled with an ancient hunger - the same primal need he sees in Alex’s eyes.
When Alex had nightmares as a child, she never woke up her parents. She just crawled into bed with Justin. When Justin had nightmares as a child, he’d sneak into Alex’s room and just watch her sleep for awhile, listening to her breathe. Then he’d head back to bed and be asleep before his head hit the pillow, because he knew that everything was okay in the world.
They’ve always known what this day would bring, but they’ve never discussed it.
What do they do now?
Alex smiles, and gathers her hair in her hands, holding it on top of her head. She pivots, and he reaches for the zipper. As he draws it down, revealing her smooth cinnamon skin and a strap of black lace, Justin’s fingers tremble just a little.
He sits down in a chair next to the table to take off his shoes and socks as Alex strolls to the fireplace, standing on the large ornate rug that’s been spelled to feel soft and smooth.
She pivots again, and her smile is hungry and wicked as she pushes her dress off her shoulders and over her hips to puddle around her feet.
Justin comes to his feet to see Alex wearing a black lace bra and panties, and black silk stockings that reach her upper thighs, bands of black lace at the tops.
As he walks toward her, she kicks her dress off to her side, followed by her heels. He stands barely at arm’s length as she slowly removes her bra. He briefly thinks about telling her to keep the stockings and heels, but not now - he can’t bear the thought of anything keeping his skin from hers, even transparent silk. Instead, his tongue flickers out to moisten his lips, and watches her high, full breasts swaying as she bends to remove her panties, and a whisper sends the stockings sliding down too.
Now completely, utterly bare, his sister gracefully lies down on the rug, and rolls onto her back. She’s still smiling that hungry, wicked smile as she runs her hands over her naked body, breasts and stomach and hips, showing off for him.
Justin slides off his jacket, letting it fall on top of Alex’s dress, and slips the unfastened tie from around his shirt collar. He undresses slowly and deliberately, the same way she did. He has to do this himself, the same way he had to let her take off every stitch of clothing with her own two hands.
When he gets down to his boxers, Alex sees how the front is tented, and her smile widens. When his boxers fall too, and she sees his erection, she licks her lips and Justin very nearly loses his last threads of self-control.
But he hasn’t waited this long to have it over with in five minutes.
Alex spreads her legs, and her inner thighs are already wet with arousal. Justin kneels between them, tightly holding the base of his cock until his need dims just enough. Alex reaches up, opening her arms as well as her legs in welcome. Justin stretches his body over hers, settling into the cradle of her thighs, and thinks that this must be how Adam and Eve first joined, underneath the branches of the Tree of Knowledge, with the sunlight filtering through the leaves to warm his back and the earth supporting hers.
His body was born knowing how to enter hers, and he can feel the very tip of his cock pressing against her entrance, can already feel her heat and wetness yearning to receive him.
This isn’t the final chance to change his mind - that has already come and gone. This choice was made decades ago.
“Slowly,” Alex begs, her voice breathy with longing. “I want to feel every inch of you.”
Nodding, Justin locks eyes with his sister, seeing the need and hunger and love that matches his own, and pushes his hips forward. Just as she asked, his body slides inside hers gradually, each small advance savoured, and it feels an eternity until he’s fully sheathed inside her, and there is no way that Eden could ever compare with this.
His body is close to trembling from shock, overwhelmed by the ripples of sweetness and the feeling of completion that ripple through his flesh. Her pussy clutches him and his cock throbs in response and he can’t move, can’t bear the thought of even an inch of his body leaving hers.
But if he doesn’t move, he won’t be able to find all the places inside her that spark her pleasure and make her moan. Without the friction of him pulling back and driving deep as he returns, he won’t be able to make her come.
So Justin draws back, hating every second his cock is surrounded by air instead of warm wet flesh, but loving every moment of pushing inside her again. It feels so good that he wants to do it again, and now they’re moving together, their rhythm smooth and perfect, exactly right to bring them the greatest amount of pleasure while making it last, and it may be the first time but it feels like they’ve done this a thousand times before.
They fit together, so perfectly that it feel like their bodies were designed to join together. Every thrust is deep, reaching further inside her that no one else has. Her pussy clings to him like a silken glove, but grips him like iron, and it arouses him like never before.
“God, you’re tight,” Justin moans.
“I haven’t had sex in three years,” Alex tells him breathlessly. The day Max had told them both about his illness.
“Me neither,” Justin smiles. Not since the day they knew that the last mortal who knew what they truly looked like was going to pass beyond, and they would be free of any expectations.
He still thinks part of Mason’s attraction was that Alex just wanted a magical lover of her own. The only reason they lasted as long as they did - besides those cursed pheromones - was that Alex was just too damn stubborn to give up. Justin had made a supernatural relationship work, so she could too. Besides, a part of her had known all along that they weren’t normal people.
Alex arches her back to rub her breasts against his chest, and Justin growls, speeding his strokes. Alex clutches his shoulder blades, and lets out a long groan that stutters every time he bottoms out inside her. He angles his hips, because he can tell exactly where she needs his cock to rub the most, and thrusts harder, so his cock doesn’t just rub there, it hits, and her whole body goes taut beneath him as Alex wails his name and she comes, each convulsion of her pussy squeezing him lovingly.
He braces himself on one forearm as she pants for breath in the aftermath, and she gently runs her hands down his back, from shoulders to the top of his backside and back up again. She angles her head to kiss him, and as their tongue playfully twine, he’s still hard and throbbing inside her. He patiently waits for her to be ready for more, moving in tiny, shallow thrusts to arouse her again. Alex whimpers in need, but her body hasn’t quite caught up with her hunger for more of him, so he bends his head to scatter kisses over her breasts, licking one hard nipple and when he tugs on it gently with his teeth her pussy clenches around his cock again.
Alex bends her knees at a shallow angle, her feet flat on the floor, and Justin brings his own legs up underneath him for better leverage, sliding his knees in the gap between her thighs and the floor. He pulls out almost completely, and thrusts back inside with such force that his groin smacks against the rounded curves on her backside. Alex’s breasts bounce with the force of his thrusts, and she moans his name as Justin pumps harder, slamming into her, and Alex is pushing up her hips to meet him, and they’re not making love any more but fucking, their promise has been fulfilled, and now they’re laying claim to each other, taking what has always belonged them with all the fury of a pair of beasts in rut.
Almost sixty years waiting for the inevitable, waiting for this, and doubt and shame and guilt and even fear have long disappeared, ground away by too many years of passing time with other men and women who could never really fit and always left them vaguely unsatisfied, of too long being torn between wanting more time with Dad, Mom, Max and Harper because they love them so much, and impatiently waiting for them to die so they can finally be free and together.
But then they were both made full wizards, and in one blazing split-second they realised that old age and death wouldn’t part them, that they’d have centuries to squabble and tease and hug and do magic together. In the moment of epiphany they looked at each other and knew, even though they never said anything, never even thought it except deep in the darkest places of their hearts.
Every nerve ending in his body is burning, and he can feel the pressure coiling at the base of his spine and he needs to come so badly that it hurts, but he can’t leave Alex behind. He groans helplessly, and Alex reaches down between them and guides his hand between them, sliding his fingers through her folds until he finds the hard nub and rubs again and again until Alex gives a triumphant cry and her pussy goes into convulsions and he shatters, spilling his seed deep inside his sister for the first time.
Even in the midst of his climax, Justin wants more; centuries won’t be long enough to satisfy his lust for her body, won’t be long enough to sate his hunger for her love, he could spend every day for a thousand years with her and inside her but he’ll still want more.
Justin collapses onto Alex in a barely-controlled fall, shifting so as much of her body as possible is pressing against his. He’s softening inside her but can’t bear to pull out just yet, just wants to relish being one flesh as they have been one heart for so long.
His head turns, and her lips meet his in a slow, sweet kiss.
“Love you,” they breathe simultaneously. “Always.”
The last, greatest promise of their hearts. A promise to last a thousand years.
“Time has brought your heart to me
I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more.”
FINI
Anyway, one of fics, 'the only way out is through' was recommended on crack_van! The lovely praise as part of the rec inspired my muse to struggle free of Finchel for awhile, and get cracking on some new Jalex. I have several more in the works, including one set on and around Valentine's day, but that's part of a series and won't work very well without the christmas and new year's eve stories as well.
So this is the story I started right after I found out how things ended with the family competition (though I think it was better in the movie!), and now finished in time for V-Day.
TITLE: The Next Thousand Years
AUTHOUR: TaleWeaver
FANDOM/PAIRING: Wizards of Waverly Place, Justin/Alex
RATING/CONTENT: nc-17, m/f sex, consensual incest between siblings.
DISCLAIMER: The characters of WOWP belong to the Disney Channel, and lots of people who are not me. The song ‘A Thousand Years’ was written by Christina Perri and David Hodges. No profit is being made from this work, and no copyright infringement is intended.
SPOILERS: For the whole series. BIG spoilers for the series finale, ‘Who will be the family wizard?’
SUMMARY: Justin and Alex, alone at last, with no one left to hide from.
“I have died everyday waiting for you
Darling, don’t be afraid
I have loved you for a thousand years
I’ll love you for a thousand more.”
It was Justin and Alex’s great-grandfather that acquired the brownstone, right on the edge of what used to be Little Italy. No one from the mortal world ever comes here; in the wizarding world, this is known as the home of Justin Russo, the principal of WizTech and wizarding inventor. At one point, he was considered one of the prime catches of Wizarding high society - until a dark-haired beauty moved in with him twenty years ago. Speculation ran riot for years, as he kept dating other women for awhile, but no one ever lasted long. His long-time companion was obviously a wizard, too, but seemed to live mostly in the mortal world, so no one bothered to find out more. Wizarding Society was snobbish like that.
He was almost four when Max was born, and doesn't remember it at all. He was a year and a half old when Alex was born, and doesn't remember much about that, either - except the first time he saw her, cuddled in their mother’s arms, and he still swears she looked him straight in the eye and smirked at him.
Alex’s interviews appear in art magazines and in highly-select critical reviews, but she’s never been famous. Her work sells for four figures, sometimes even five - she’ll never join the six-figure club. But her creations hang in no less than three museums in New York, and several in Europe.
Almost everyone who comes in Justin’s office at WizTech admires the paintings; when he tells them the artist is only sold in the mortal world, he’s sometimes asked to act as an intermediary.
Twenty years ago, Justin opened the door to find Alex on the doorstep, bags piled around her and several easels and canvases floating in a neat stack behind her. Without a word, he stepped back and opened the door wide.
They spent the next week renovating the very topmost room into her studio - it now fully occupies what used to be the attic. Then they started on the rest of the house. Justin had lived there for thirty years, ever since his magical core replenished itself enough that he didn’t need to live at WizTech anymore, but he’d barely changed anything from when their grandfather lived there.
When Alex asked him why, he told her that he was waiting for her to come home.
There are brightly coloured cushions to lounge on and squashy armchairs, and ergonomically correct office furnishings. Chrome fixtures in the kitchen, reminiscent of the Sub Station. Ropes of magical fairy lights are wound through the railings of the staircase. Alex’s flea market habit is evident in the antique or beautiful or just strange objects scattered throughout - from a 1940s cigar store Indian, to a lovely but completely inaccurate map of Atlantis from the eighteenth century, hand-drawn by the captain of the legendary pirate ship the Black Pearl, a 1960’s ‘space age’ style loveseat, to the Victorian lamp-post that lights the matching gazebo in the back garden. Original comic book panels and collectible sci-fi posters hang on walls throughout the house, and the wallpaper changes in at least one room every month or so with a wave of Alex’s wand.
Juliet’s picture smiles in several places from the photo-covered wall in the dining room along with all the other family pictures; she married another vampire decades ago (another photo shows Justin and Alex as part of the wedding party) and is now raising a brood of her own to respect human life and not to kill.
There isn’t a single picture of Mason. Alex kicked him to the curb less than a year after the family competition, and he was glad to go; once Alex became a full wizard, the werewolf pheromones that influenced his chosen mate into acting like a properly submissive bitch didn’t work on her any more, and their relationship sank quicker than the Titanic.
Alex never stopped teasing him about his odd love life; never hid her satisfaction when relationship after relationship quickly hit the dust. The only girl she ever became friendly with was Juliet - who’d gently explained early on that she didn’t expect his life to revolve around her; of course she understood how important Alex and the rest of their family were to him.
Harper, Zeke, Mr Larritate, even Dean - anyone who knew them back when they were the wizards of Waverly Place would walk into this house and know that Justin and Alex Russo live here. But none of them ever have. No one ever gets to visit Justin and Alex’s private home. Jerry and Theresa both passed on before Alex moved in, and when Max married all the Russo’s decided that magic was something his wife and children didn’t need to know about - when Max lost the family competition, he also lost the ability to pass on the wizarding gene. Instead, Justin and Alex maintain carefully crafted glamour’s in the mortal world, facades that have changed and aged with the passing years. Max’s four children and six grandchildren have all marvelled at how gorgeous they both were in the pictures of their youth, but there are almost no photos of the two of them between college and their thirties.
That’s why all of the still-living Russo’s would wave in greeting to the aged man and woman who climb the steps of the brownstone today, but none of them would know the mid-twenties man and woman that walk into the living room. Even though the man is wearing Uncle Justin’s best dark suit, the one he saves for graduation ceremonies and weddings, and the woman is wearing Granta (short for Great-aunt) Alex’s prized vintage Chanel dress.
Alex shakes her body all over as she strides ahead of Justin (as usual) into the living room.
“As God is my witness, I’ll never wear wrinkles again!” she exclaims in an exaggerated Southern Belle accent.
“Alex,” Justin remonstrates from the hall. “We can’t just send a death announcement and disappear from their lives. Another year for you - maybe two for me.”
Alex tosses a grin over her shoulder, as Justin hangs her original Harper Finkle Romantic Longcoat from the Edwardian coat rack, standing in the hallway next to the frozen-gas credenza they found in the Crossings on Riharth B. “You just want to officially make it to eighty, so Alison will sing the ‘Space Cowboy’ theme at your party, like she promised.”
Her grin slides away, and sadness fills her eyes. “It was a lovely funeral, as they say. Max would have loved it - especially the video game tournament at the wake.”
Justin walks into the living room, running his hand through the thick, dark hair none of his living relatives would recognize, and sighs. “God knows it couldn’t have been worse than Zeke’s. I still can’t believe his daughter hired a couple of actors as pallbearers, because her cousins weren’t attractive enough.”
“He should never have broken up with Harper,” Alex sneers.
“It was her idea, Alex,” Justin reminds her. “At least we didn’t have to go through the same mess at hers - she was sensible enough to marry someone who loved her for everything she was,” he can’t help but grin, “including her dress sense.”
Alex smiles and nods. So many fans of her children’s books had come to the funeral, that several of the attendees thought they’d come to a convention by accident. Alex hadn’t been able to stop crying until right before her eulogy - though she’d soon had the whole congregation in stitches recounting some of her and Harper’s adventures as teenagers.
Justin sighs again, as he undoes the retro Space Invaders tie that his little brother bought him for his college graduation. Max was the last to go. There is no longer any living being who knows exactly who Justin and Alex Russo are.
He smiles at Alex. At least there will be no more funerals for people they love.
Alex smiles back, and something is shifting and she’s starting to smile at him in way she never has before.
Justin takes a step back, but before the doubt and hurt creeps in he gestures to the table, where he left a bottle of champagne with a chilling spell, and two crystal goblets. “Let’s make a toast, first.”
He needs to make one last acknowledgment of their past - one last promise to their future.
Understanding blooms in Alex’s smile, and she nods.
Justin fills the glasses with the icy bubbly sweetness of the wine, shimmering with the palest shade of gold, and offers one to Alex. Instead, she keeps smiling and slowly takes the pins out of her hair, setting it free from the French twist she’d worn it in for the funeral. She’s kept her hair shoulder-length and smooth for most of the past decades, but started growing it out again fairly recently, and now a tousled fall of black silk tumbles over her shoulders and halfway down her back, just like when they held each other tightly in a mountain cave in the Caribbean, the Stone of Dreams clenched in his fist.
All he could do was look around in confusion, because he didn't know anything about the situation and didn't even know his own name, but the most beautiful girl in the world was calling him 'Justin', and even though he didn't know her name either, he knew that he'd never leave her.
Justin takes a deep breath, and something inside him wakes, straining against the barriers he built as a teenager. It knows it will be set free soon.
Alex’s eyes sparkle with anticipation, and he can already sense the matching hidden in her, rising to meet his. She has always kept it just a little closer to the surface than he did.
She takes the glass from his outstretched hand, and clinks it against his. “To Max.”
“To Max.”
They drink, eyes locked, and Justin holds his glass out again. Alex reaches out in return, the crystal rims chiming as they kiss, and Justin feels the barriers cracking.
“To the next thousand years.”
Alex’s eyes go soft, and she breathes her reply. “To the next thousand years.”
They sip again, and consume the rest of the wine slowly. The tension between them is crackling with electricity, the air they breathe thrumming as it builds. It’s a sort of pleasurable agony to restrain himself, in these last few moments before the hidden is released, and its howl of anticipation echoes inside his head.
Justin sets his glass down with a clink, and so does Alex.
Their eyes lock, and the barrier shatters. What has been hidden for so long floods through him, soaking through his flesh and bones until his skin is the only fragile container.
Justin’s heart starts to pound in his ears, and knows his eyes have filled with an ancient hunger - the same primal need he sees in Alex’s eyes.
When Alex had nightmares as a child, she never woke up her parents. She just crawled into bed with Justin. When Justin had nightmares as a child, he’d sneak into Alex’s room and just watch her sleep for awhile, listening to her breathe. Then he’d head back to bed and be asleep before his head hit the pillow, because he knew that everything was okay in the world.
They’ve always known what this day would bring, but they’ve never discussed it.
What do they do now?
Alex smiles, and gathers her hair in her hands, holding it on top of her head. She pivots, and he reaches for the zipper. As he draws it down, revealing her smooth cinnamon skin and a strap of black lace, Justin’s fingers tremble just a little.
He sits down in a chair next to the table to take off his shoes and socks as Alex strolls to the fireplace, standing on the large ornate rug that’s been spelled to feel soft and smooth.
She pivots again, and her smile is hungry and wicked as she pushes her dress off her shoulders and over her hips to puddle around her feet.
Justin comes to his feet to see Alex wearing a black lace bra and panties, and black silk stockings that reach her upper thighs, bands of black lace at the tops.
As he walks toward her, she kicks her dress off to her side, followed by her heels. He stands barely at arm’s length as she slowly removes her bra. He briefly thinks about telling her to keep the stockings and heels, but not now - he can’t bear the thought of anything keeping his skin from hers, even transparent silk. Instead, his tongue flickers out to moisten his lips, and watches her high, full breasts swaying as she bends to remove her panties, and a whisper sends the stockings sliding down too.
Now completely, utterly bare, his sister gracefully lies down on the rug, and rolls onto her back. She’s still smiling that hungry, wicked smile as she runs her hands over her naked body, breasts and stomach and hips, showing off for him.
Justin slides off his jacket, letting it fall on top of Alex’s dress, and slips the unfastened tie from around his shirt collar. He undresses slowly and deliberately, the same way she did. He has to do this himself, the same way he had to let her take off every stitch of clothing with her own two hands.
When he gets down to his boxers, Alex sees how the front is tented, and her smile widens. When his boxers fall too, and she sees his erection, she licks her lips and Justin very nearly loses his last threads of self-control.
But he hasn’t waited this long to have it over with in five minutes.
Alex spreads her legs, and her inner thighs are already wet with arousal. Justin kneels between them, tightly holding the base of his cock until his need dims just enough. Alex reaches up, opening her arms as well as her legs in welcome. Justin stretches his body over hers, settling into the cradle of her thighs, and thinks that this must be how Adam and Eve first joined, underneath the branches of the Tree of Knowledge, with the sunlight filtering through the leaves to warm his back and the earth supporting hers.
His body was born knowing how to enter hers, and he can feel the very tip of his cock pressing against her entrance, can already feel her heat and wetness yearning to receive him.
This isn’t the final chance to change his mind - that has already come and gone. This choice was made decades ago.
“Slowly,” Alex begs, her voice breathy with longing. “I want to feel every inch of you.”
Nodding, Justin locks eyes with his sister, seeing the need and hunger and love that matches his own, and pushes his hips forward. Just as she asked, his body slides inside hers gradually, each small advance savoured, and it feels an eternity until he’s fully sheathed inside her, and there is no way that Eden could ever compare with this.
His body is close to trembling from shock, overwhelmed by the ripples of sweetness and the feeling of completion that ripple through his flesh. Her pussy clutches him and his cock throbs in response and he can’t move, can’t bear the thought of even an inch of his body leaving hers.
But if he doesn’t move, he won’t be able to find all the places inside her that spark her pleasure and make her moan. Without the friction of him pulling back and driving deep as he returns, he won’t be able to make her come.
So Justin draws back, hating every second his cock is surrounded by air instead of warm wet flesh, but loving every moment of pushing inside her again. It feels so good that he wants to do it again, and now they’re moving together, their rhythm smooth and perfect, exactly right to bring them the greatest amount of pleasure while making it last, and it may be the first time but it feels like they’ve done this a thousand times before.
They fit together, so perfectly that it feel like their bodies were designed to join together. Every thrust is deep, reaching further inside her that no one else has. Her pussy clings to him like a silken glove, but grips him like iron, and it arouses him like never before.
“God, you’re tight,” Justin moans.
“I haven’t had sex in three years,” Alex tells him breathlessly. The day Max had told them both about his illness.
“Me neither,” Justin smiles. Not since the day they knew that the last mortal who knew what they truly looked like was going to pass beyond, and they would be free of any expectations.
He still thinks part of Mason’s attraction was that Alex just wanted a magical lover of her own. The only reason they lasted as long as they did - besides those cursed pheromones - was that Alex was just too damn stubborn to give up. Justin had made a supernatural relationship work, so she could too. Besides, a part of her had known all along that they weren’t normal people.
Alex arches her back to rub her breasts against his chest, and Justin growls, speeding his strokes. Alex clutches his shoulder blades, and lets out a long groan that stutters every time he bottoms out inside her. He angles his hips, because he can tell exactly where she needs his cock to rub the most, and thrusts harder, so his cock doesn’t just rub there, it hits, and her whole body goes taut beneath him as Alex wails his name and she comes, each convulsion of her pussy squeezing him lovingly.
He braces himself on one forearm as she pants for breath in the aftermath, and she gently runs her hands down his back, from shoulders to the top of his backside and back up again. She angles her head to kiss him, and as their tongue playfully twine, he’s still hard and throbbing inside her. He patiently waits for her to be ready for more, moving in tiny, shallow thrusts to arouse her again. Alex whimpers in need, but her body hasn’t quite caught up with her hunger for more of him, so he bends his head to scatter kisses over her breasts, licking one hard nipple and when he tugs on it gently with his teeth her pussy clenches around his cock again.
Alex bends her knees at a shallow angle, her feet flat on the floor, and Justin brings his own legs up underneath him for better leverage, sliding his knees in the gap between her thighs and the floor. He pulls out almost completely, and thrusts back inside with such force that his groin smacks against the rounded curves on her backside. Alex’s breasts bounce with the force of his thrusts, and she moans his name as Justin pumps harder, slamming into her, and Alex is pushing up her hips to meet him, and they’re not making love any more but fucking, their promise has been fulfilled, and now they’re laying claim to each other, taking what has always belonged them with all the fury of a pair of beasts in rut.
Almost sixty years waiting for the inevitable, waiting for this, and doubt and shame and guilt and even fear have long disappeared, ground away by too many years of passing time with other men and women who could never really fit and always left them vaguely unsatisfied, of too long being torn between wanting more time with Dad, Mom, Max and Harper because they love them so much, and impatiently waiting for them to die so they can finally be free and together.
But then they were both made full wizards, and in one blazing split-second they realised that old age and death wouldn’t part them, that they’d have centuries to squabble and tease and hug and do magic together. In the moment of epiphany they looked at each other and knew, even though they never said anything, never even thought it except deep in the darkest places of their hearts.
Every nerve ending in his body is burning, and he can feel the pressure coiling at the base of his spine and he needs to come so badly that it hurts, but he can’t leave Alex behind. He groans helplessly, and Alex reaches down between them and guides his hand between them, sliding his fingers through her folds until he finds the hard nub and rubs again and again until Alex gives a triumphant cry and her pussy goes into convulsions and he shatters, spilling his seed deep inside his sister for the first time.
Even in the midst of his climax, Justin wants more; centuries won’t be long enough to satisfy his lust for her body, won’t be long enough to sate his hunger for her love, he could spend every day for a thousand years with her and inside her but he’ll still want more.
Justin collapses onto Alex in a barely-controlled fall, shifting so as much of her body as possible is pressing against his. He’s softening inside her but can’t bear to pull out just yet, just wants to relish being one flesh as they have been one heart for so long.
His head turns, and her lips meet his in a slow, sweet kiss.
“Love you,” they breathe simultaneously. “Always.”
The last, greatest promise of their hearts. A promise to last a thousand years.
“Time has brought your heart to me
I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more.”
FINI