Chapter Text
Chapter 4
Morning light sliced through the gap in Justin’s curtains, dust motes dancing in the harsh beam that landed directly across Alex’s eyes.
She blinked, disoriented, her body stiff and aching in unfamiliar ways; a deep, satisfying soreness radiating from her thighs, her lower back, the tender skin along her collarbone where Justin’s teeth had lingered. His arm lay heavy across her waist, fingers splayed possessively over her hipbone, the warmth of his palm searing through the thin sheet tangled around them.
Rain still tapped sporadically against the windowpane, but the storm’s fury had faded to a weary sigh, leaving behind the stale scent of ozone and sex mingling with the citrus tang of Justin’s deodorant still clinging to the pillowcase beneath her cheek.
She shifted cautiously, muscles protesting, and felt the immediate tightening of his arm; a reflexive pull that drew her flush against the solid heat of his chest, his breath stirring the hair at her temple in soft, rhythmic puffs.
Justin stirred, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he buried his face deeper into the messy cascade of her dark hair. His lips brushed the sensitive curve of her ear, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the chill creeping into the room.
"Time?" The word was muffled, thick with sleep and something else—a vulnerability Alex had never heard in his voice before.
She tilted her head just enough to peer at the glowing red digits of his alarm clock: 8:03 AM. Sunday. The brunch loomed in less than three hours, a glaring intrusion into the fragile cocoon of sweat-damp sheets and tangled limbs.
She relayed the time, her voice husky. Justin’s arm tightened around her waist instantly, pulling her flush against the warm, solid plane of his chest.
"No," he murmured, the protest rough against her temple. "Not yet." His hand slid lower, fingers tracing idle, possessive circles low on her belly; a touch that felt less like desire and more like claiming territory he’d only just conquered, anchoring her there.
Alex shifted, wincing as the movement ignited fresh aches; a deep throb between her legs, tender skin along her hip where his grip had bruised her crimson-blue, the phantom sting of spark-trails fading beneath her flesh.
She turned slowly within the cage of his arms until she faced him. Morning light sharpened the exhaustion etched around his grey-green eyes, the shadow of stubble darkening his jaw, a stark contrast to the usual clean-cut perfectionist.
Her gaze traced the faint scratches her nails had left down his shoulder blades, the constellation of faintly glowing embers where magic had flared hottest against his skin. She lifted a hesitant hand, fingertips hovering inches from the angry crescent marks marring his collarbone.
"Did I…?" Her voice trailed off, the question unfinished but hanging thickly between them.
Justin caught her wandering fingers, bringing them to his lips. The kiss he pressed against her knuckles was startlingly gentle, almost reverent. "Doesn’t matter," he breathed against her skin, his eyes never leaving hers. "None of it matters."
The raw sincerity in his voice scraped against something deep inside her; a terrifying admission that stripped away the pretense of the weekend’s lie.
Justin studied the dust motes dancing in the cruel morning light shafting through his curtains, avoiding her searching gaze. The silence stretched, thick as the stale air, until Alex’s fingers tightened reflexively in his.
"Justin." Her whisper was a rasp, fraying at the edges. "Last night…" She trailed off, unable to voice the tectonic shift cracking the bedrock of their world—siblings to lovers in the violent shudder of thunder and sparks.
He finally met her eyes, grey-green depths stripped bare. "I know," he breathed. No stammer, no academic deflection. Just two words, weighted with the wreckage of every rule they’d shattered. His thumb brushed the tender skin inside her wrist, where her pulse hammered against his touch. "It wasn’t pretend."
The confession hung suspended between them; a scalpel slicing cleanly through the fragile gauze of their charade. Rain tapped a hesitant rhythm against the windowpane, echoing the frantic drumming in Alex’s chest.
Justin’s fingers tightened around hers, anchoring them both against the precipice. "I’d burn every award, sabotage every robot," he continued, voice rough as gravel scraped raw, "before I’d regret a single second of having you beneath me."
The vulgarity shocked her—not the words, but the jagged honesty behind them. This wasn’t smooth-talking Justin Russo. This was the boy who’d built HELIOS with trembling hands, laid bare. He traced the fading sparks along her collarbone, his touch branding where his teeth had marked her hours before.
"I've wanted this," he confessed, the admission tearing loose like shrapnel, "for as long as I can remember," His thumb pressed into the soft skin beneath her jaw, lifting her chin, forcing her to meet eyes stripped of every academic shield; only hunger, and terror, and dawning ruin remained. "Tell me I didn’t just destroy everything."
The plea hung suspended, sharp as shattered glass, in the dust-moted silence. Alex stared at the pulse hammering wildly in his throat, the faint tremor in the hand still gripping hers. Her own heartbeat echoed it, a frantic drumbeat against ribs suddenly too tight.
She remembered the prank-stolen comics, the mockery of his "dolls," the thousand casual cruelties meant to push him away, because proximity had always felt like standing too close to a live wire. Last night hadn't been discovery; it'd been surrender.
Her free hand lifted, trembling, and brushed the angry crescent marks her nails had carved into his shoulder; a mirror to the bruises he’d left on her hips. Proof. Flesh against flesh. Real.
"Justin," she breathed, the name catching, fractured. "You didn't destroy a damn thing." Her fingers curled into his hair, dragging him down until their foreheads touched, breath mingling; hot, shared oxygen in a world tilting violently beneath them. "You just... made it impossible not to want this too."
He shuddered against her, a full-body tremor that vibrated deep into her marrow, and crushed her to him. The embrace was desperate, anchoring, his face buried in the sweat-damp hollow where her neck met her shoulder. She felt the damp heat of his exhale, the frantic press of lips against her collarbone, tasting salt and fading ozone.
His ragged confession—for as long as I can remember—echoed, unlocking a floodgate. She saw it now: the stolen glances masked behind comic books, the quick flush when she teased him, the fierce protectiveness that went beyond brotherly. All the jagged pieces snapped together. Her fingers tightened in his hair.
"You idiot," she whispered against his temple, voice thick, "Always rescuing me." A choked laugh escaped her. "Who rescues you?"
His arms locked tighter, an answer without words. She traced the ridge of his spine, sparks flaring gold where skin met skin. The silence deepened, heavy with unsaid histories and the specter of what came next. He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. Grey-green depths, stripped raw, held hers.
"You do." The words landed softly, impossibly weighty. "Always." His thumb brushed the tender skin beneath her jaw. "Even when I’m too stubborn to see it." He swallowed, throat working. "Last night… with Vance… with HELIOS." His gaze flickered away, shame tightening his features. "You told me he’d sabotage it. Warned me." He looked back, the admission rough. "I didn’t believe you. I should have."
His hand slid down to cradle the nape of her neck, fingers tangling in her messy hair. "You saved it. Saved me. Again." His brow furrowed, searching her face. "Why? Even after I shut you down? After I…" He trailed off, unable to voice the lecture, the dismissal in the mixer hallway.
Alex stared at the faint constellation of scratches she’d left on his collarbone, glowing dully with residual magic. The stale air tasted of ozone and sweat and the sharp tang of vulnerability.
"Because HELIOS matters to you," she murmured, tracing the line of his shoulder with her knuckles. "Because watching you build that thing… the way your hands move when you’re wiring it… the way your eyes light up when it learns a new sequence…" She lifted her gaze, brown eyes fierce. "It’s you. Your passion. Your stupid, brilliant brain poured into metal and code." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "And Vance? He saw it too. Saw how good it was. How good you were. That’s why he tried to break it. To break you." Her jaw tightened. "Couldn’t let that happen. Wouldn’t."
A ghost of her familiar smirk touched her lips. "Besides," she added, poking his ribs lightly. "Who else is gonna call you a dork while saving your ass?"
Justin’s gaze softened, a tremor running through him. He caught her wandering hand, pressing her palm flat against the warm skin over his frantically drumming heart.
"Alex," he rasped, the word cracking. His thumb traced the delicate bones of her wrist where faint gold sparks still shimmered beneath the surface—magic’s fading echo.
The gesture was intimate, grounding, anchoring them in the wreckage of tangled sheets and shared breath. He stared down at their joined hands, her dark-tipped fingers stark against the paleness of his skin, studying the intricate lines like a map leading back to the impossible truth they’d forged last night.
"When you… when you whispered about Vance at the mixer," he began, voice thick with regret, "all I heard was chaos. Disruption." He shook his head sharply. "I didn’t see—didn’t want to see—that it was… protection." His grey-green eyes lifted, stripped bare. "That you were protecting me."
"I'll always protect you," Alex murmured, rough fingertips brushing the fading sparks along his jawline. Her eyes mapped the contours of his face; the exhaustion softening his usually sharp features, the storm-gray intensity replaced by raw vulnerability. "Even when you're being a colossal dork."
The familiar jab lacked its usual venom; instead, it clung to the damp air between them, weighted with absolute truth. His breath hitched against her knuckles. The confession, protection, hung raw in the air, mingling with the scent of rain-soaked cobblestones drifting through the cracked window.
Outside, Cambridge stirred: distant car horns, the rumble of a garbage truck, the mundane world reasserting itself against the impossible intimacy cocooned in Justin’s dorm room. Alex watched a drop of water trace a path down the grimy windowpane, mirroring the faint trail of tears she hadn’t realized were drying on her cheeks.
His thumb pressed into the pulse point at her wrist, a silent acknowledgment of the seismic shift that had cracked their world open; siblings to lovers in the violent shudder of thunder and shared sparks. A sharp ache bloomed low in her belly as she shifted, the physical reminder of last night’s abandon sparking fresh heat beneath her skin.
Her left hand drifted up the ridge of his forearm; over the corded muscle, the faint dusting of dark hair, the constellation of fading scratches she’d etched into his skin. Slowly, deliberately, her fingers climbed higher, tracing the taut line of his shoulder before curling possessively behind his neck. Her thumb found the soft, vulnerable spot beneath his ear, stroking the short hairs at his nape in slow, rhythmic circles.
Justin went utterly still beneath her touch, his breathing shallow. She felt the tremor ripple through him; the aftershock of vulnerability. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the scent of him; cedar, ozone, sex, and something uniquely, terrifyingly Justin—and leaned in.
The scant inches between them crackled. Her gaze flickered down, tracing the familiar curve of his lips; lips she’d teased relentlessly, lips that had mapped every inch of her with bruising desperation hours before.
Her voice, when it came, was a husky whisper that brushed against his mouth like a secret: "Justin…" The name hung suspended, heavier than any spell, a plea and a promise tangled together.
Justin’s eyes, grey-green and stripped raw, held hers. His thumb still pressed into her wrist, pulse hammering against his touch. "Alex," he breathed, the word ragged.
His free hand slid up her spine, fingers spreading wide against her scapula, pressing her closer until the damp heat of his bare chest seared against hers. The scent of rain and sweat mingled with the sharp ozone tang of spent magic, grounding them in the aftermath.
Outside, Cambridge’s Sunday morning hummed—car horns, distant sirens—but inside, only their shared breath filled the silence. His gaze dropped to her lips, still swollen from the bruising urgency of the night.
He kissed her then; not with last night’s frantic hunger, but slowly, deliberately. His lips traced the corner of her mouth, the curve of her lower lip, before settling. Soft. Exploring. A shudder ran through him as she sighed into him, her fingers tightening in his hair, anchoring them both.
His hands mapped her; not claiming now, but relearning: the dip of her waist, the ridge of her hipbone, the tender skin beneath her ribs where sparks still flickered gold beneath the surface. Every touch was a vow whispered against skin, a language deeper than spells. Her own hands slid lower, palms skimming the taut muscles of his back, tracing the constellation of scratches she’d left—proof of surrender.
His forehead pressed against hers, breath ragged. "Alex," he murmured, the name cracking like dry earth. His thumb brushed the dampness beneath her eye—tears she hadn't felt fall. "Tell me…" The plea hung unfinished, swallowed by the frantic drumming in his chest beneath her palm.
Her answer was a shift; a slow, deliberate arch pressing her hips flush against his. A gasp escaped him, sharp and raw. Heat bloomed instantly, a slow burn unfurling low in her belly, mirroring the dazed wonder in his eyes. His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss until it was less exploration and more drowning—a shared breath, a shared tremor, a shared surrender to the ache thrumming between them.
Morning light painted stripes across tangled limbs as he traced the curve of her hipbone with trembling reverence. His touch was unhurried now, mapping the constellation of faint bruises left by his grip, the fading gold sparks beneath her skin where magic had flared brightest. A calloused thumb swept over her ribs, eliciting a shudder that had nothing to do with the chill. He kissed the hollow of her throat, the soft skin beneath her jaw, each press of his lips a silent apology and a promise etched onto her flesh.
Her sigh was soft, fingers threading through his dark hair, anchoring him as he relearned the landscape he'd claimed with desperate urgency hours before; every freckle, every scar, every curve yielding to the slow, deliberate worship of his hands and mouth.
Her own explorations were bolder, seeking the tense muscles of his back, the ridge of his spine, the frantic pulse hammering at the base of his throat. She scraped her nails lightly down his flank, drawing a ragged gasp from him, and felt the answering tremor deep within herself.
When her hand drifted lower, palming the hard heat already stirring against her thigh, Justin’s breath hitched sharply. He caught her wrist, not to stop her, but to guide her touch, his gaze locking onto hers; grey-green depths stripped bare, burning with a need that mirrored her own.
"Slow," he rasped, the word thick, almost pleading. "Please. I need…" He swallowed hard, unable to voice the terrifying fragility of this moment after the storm.
She understood. Her fingers curled, not demanding, but accepting, a slow, deliberate caress that drew a groan vibrating deep in his chest, his hips shifting infinitesimally against her palm.
Her fingers curled tighter, answering his unspoken plea, the slow drag of her palm coaxing a shuddering groan from deep within her brother’s chest. His hips lifted instinctively, seeking more friction, more of her touch, the movement sharp and uncontrolled against her thigh. He buried his face against her neck, his breath hot and ragged against her skin, lips brushing the fading sparks at her collarbone.
"Alex," he choked out, the name fractured with need, his hand tightening reflexively around the wrist he still held, guiding her rhythm while his other hand slid down her spine to grip her hip, anchoring her against his desperate thrusts.
The air thickened with the scent of sweat and ozone and the sharp tang of renewed arousal, every shift igniting fresh currents beneath their skin.
Alex shifted subtly, her knee nudging his thigh wider as she leaned over him. Her lips found his jawline, then the corner of his mouth, soft, exploratory kisses contrasting the deliberate pressure her fingers maintained. She felt the tremor in his limbs, the frantic drumming of his heart beneath her palm, the gasp that escaped him when her thumb brushed the sensitive underside.
Slowly, steadily, she pressed downward on his shoulder, urging him onto his back. There was no resistance, only a yielding tension as he sank into the mattress, his grey-green eyes locked onto hers, wide with dazed wonder and a vulnerability that scraped against her soul.
His hand slid from her wrist to cup the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her messy dark hair, pulling her mouth down to meet his in a kiss that was less desperate now, deeper—a slow, shared breath tasting of salt and surrender.
Heat pooled low in her belly as she straddled him fully, the thin cotton sheet the only barrier between them. Her hips rolled forward in a slow, instinctive grind against the hard length straining beneath her, drawing a choked moan from Justin’s throat. His hands slid urgently down her spine, fingers digging into the swell of her hips, urging her closer.
She broke the kiss only to trail her lips along his throat, tasting the frantic pulse there, feeling the tremor that ran through him when her teeth grazed his collarbone. His fingers tightened convulsively, dragging her against him until every curve of her body aligned with his.
"Alex," he gasped, her name ragged against her shoulder. His hips arched sharply off the mattress, seeking friction, his need echoing the ache tightening deep within her.
The sheet shifted, slipping lower, leaving nothing but scorching skin pressed to skin. She felt the shudder rip through him, the desperate, helpless thrust of his hips as her hand slipped between them, fingers curling possessively around him once more.
Her lips trailed a slow path down his neck, tasting salt and desperation, lingering where his pulse hammered wild against her tongue. Her right hand moved with deliberate slowness, a steady, maddening rhythm along the hard heat of him that drew ragged groans from his throat.
Simultaneously, her left palm slid downwards, tracing the rigid planes of his abdomen, fingertips catching on the defined ridges, mapping the frantic rise and fall of his chest beneath her touch. She felt the tremor in his muscles, the desperate grip of his hand tangled in her hair as she kissed the hollow above his collarbone, her breath hot against damp skin.
She continued her descent, her mouth blazing a trail across the smooth plane of his chest, pausing to swirl her tongue around a peaked nipple, drawing a sharp gasp from him. Her left hand followed the tense line of his hipbone, fingers skimming the sensitive dip of his waist, while her right maintained its relentless, aching pace.
Every kiss was deliberate, every brush of her fingers a torture, punctuated by the choked sounds escaping his lips and the involuntary jerk of his hips against her restraining thigh. She lingered over the frantic drumming beneath his ribs, her breath ghosting warm over the fading sparks of magic flickering low on his sternum like dying stars.
Her eyes locked onto his, dilated and liquid-dark, as she pressed her mouth to the frantic pulse below his ribs. The taste of his desperation was salt-sweet, mingling with the fading ozone tang of magic. Her fingers tightened their rhythm just slightly, coaxing a choked groan from his throat as his hips surged off the mattress.
Her left hand slid lower still, grazing the sharp V of his hips, fingertips tracing the sensitive inner seam of his thigh. He shuddered violently, muscles corded with restraint, his knuckles white where they gripped the rumpled sheets.
She felt the tremor shake through him, deeper than flesh, a seismic shift at the precipice, as her lips drifted lower, following the trail of dark hair leading downward.
The slow drag of her breath across heated skin drew a ragged gasp. His fingers tangled in her hair, not guiding, not pulling; anchoring himself as if she were the only solid thing in a crumbling world. Her tongue traced the rigid line of his abdomen, tasting the sharp salt of sweat, feeling the taut desperation beneath her lips. His breath hitched, sharp and fractured, a prayer choked off before it could form.
Her right hand still held him firmly, the pulse of his need throbbing against her palm. Her left traced the inner seam of his thigh, fingers feather-light, deliberate. He arched, a silent plea in the straining tendons of his neck, the bitten-off groan vibrating against her scalp.
Her tongue swept lower, tracing the rigid definition below his navel, tasting salt and ozone and the coiled tension threatening to snap. His breath came in ragged gasps, fingers clenching convulsively in her hair; not pulling, but trembling, anchoring himself against the onslaught of sensation.
Alex’s heart hammered against her ribs as she felt the tremor rip through her brother—the seismic shudder of control fraying. Her tongue swept lower still, tracing the sharp ridge of his hipbone, tasting salt and the electric tang of magic that clung to his skin.
Justin’s ragged gasp was swallowed by the rumble of distant traffic filtering through the dorm window, grounding them in a world that felt galaxies away. His fingers tightened convulsively in her hair—not pulling her closer, not pushing her away—anchoring him to the precipice as she breathed hot against the aching heat of him.
She held him firmly, her thumb brushing the sensitive underside, eliciting a choked gasp. The scent of him filled her senses; sweat, cedar, the sharp ozone aftertaste of spent magic, as she pressed an open-mouthed kiss just below his navel. His hips jerked violently off the mattress, a raw, wordless sound tearing from his throat as his fingers clenched tighter in her hair.
She lingered there, breathing him in, her own pulse thundering in her ears, before slowly, deliberately lowering her mouth further. Her tongue traced the rigid line leading down, tasting salt and desperation and the primal heat radiating from him. He shuddered beneath her, every muscle coiled tight as a bowstring, his breath coming in frantic, shallow pants that hitched when she finally took him into her mouth.
The groan that ripped from Justin was guttural, primal, vibrating through her skull as she sank lower. Her lips stretched around him, hot and wet, her tongue swirling slowly along his length. She felt the tremor deep in his belly, the involuntary thrust of his hips restrained only by her hand splayed firmly across his hipbone. His fingers trembled against her scalp, knuckles white where they gripped her hair; not guiding, merely anchoring himself against the overwhelming tide of sensation.
She hollowed her cheeks, increasing the suction, relishing the sharp intake of his breath, the ragged curse he muttered against the pillow. Beneath her palm, his skin burned, muscles twitching erratically as she set a slow, torturous rhythm, her mouth moving with deliberate intensity. Every pull, every flick of her tongue was a fierce claim, a silent counterpoint to years of sibling rivalry now obliterated in shared heat.
Justin’s world narrowed to the slick heat of her mouth, the agonizingly perfect pressure, the frantic drumming of his own pulse echoing the rhythm she forced upon him. The scent of her—wild, familiar, yet terrifyingly new—filled his senses, mingling with the sharp ozone tang of their magic and his own raw need.
White sparks danced behind his clenched eyelids. He fought to breathe, fought for control, but her name tore from him in a broken whisper, "Alex... god..."
His hips bucked helplessly against the restraint of her hand, seeking deeper, seeking release from the unbearable tension coiling tighter and tighter with each devastating stroke of her tongue. He felt the precipice looming, terrifying and inevitable, his body arching off the mattress in a desperate, silent plea.
Alex pulled off with a soft, wet pop, the sound obscene in the quiet room, drawing a ragged groan from Justin that vibrated through her skull. She kissed her way down the slick underside of his shaft, her lips soft against the straining vein, before swirling her tongue deliberately where he felt most sensitive.
Her hand moved over him firmly, spreading the glistening bead of moisture around the flushed tip in slow, maddening circles. She couldn't believe the visceral thrill; the power of reducing her meticulously controlled big brother to trembling desperation, the salty tang on her tongue, the primal scent that was him. As much as the ache between her thighs demanded his filling, needed him buried deep inside her again, the addictive pull of seeing him unravel completely held her captive.
She watched, mesmerized: the stark clenching of his abdominal muscles, the sharp twitch beneath her hand, his dark eyebrows knitted tight in agonized pleasure, eyelids squeezed shut against sensation, black hair plastered sweat-slick against his forehead.
Holy fuck, he is the hottest thing I've ever seen.
Justin gasped her name again, a shattered plea. His fingers dug into her shoulder blades, trying to pull her up, but the dominance flowed through her; she pressed him flat with a palm to his chest, sinking lower. Her tongue traced the swollen ridge beneath the head with agonizing precision.
He threw his head back against the pillow, tendons standing out starkly in his neck as a tremor ripped through him. His hips bucked uncontrollably despite her restraining hand; she could feel the desperate tension gathering within him, coiling tighter with each flick of her tongue.
"Alex—please," he choked out, the word fractured, breathless. "God, I can't—I'm gonna—"
Panic flashed briefly in his grey-green eyes when they met hers, raw and terrified; not of the climax, but of losing control entirely before they could collapse together into the oblivion they both craved. The vulnerability there was devastating.
My brother. My Justin.
Her tongue swept lower, tracing the rigid underside with agonizing slowness, feeling the pulse throb against her lips. His fingers spasmed against her scalp—anchoring, not guiding—as his hips arched off the mattress in a silent, desperate plea.
She responded by taking him deeper, throat relaxing around the thick heat, swallowing around him until the choked gasp above her dissolved into ragged sobs. The taste of salt and ozone intensified as sparks flickered gold beneath her palms where she braced against his thighs.
Alex felt the exact moment his control shattered, a tremor ripping through muscle and bone, before heat flooded her mouth in thick, pulsating waves. Justin cried out, sharp and raw, his back bowing off the sheets as she swallowed convulsively, milking every last shudder from him with gentle suction.
She didn't relent, swallowing each thick pulse as his body convulsed beneath her; muscles locked, breath ragged gasps tearing through the silence. His fingers finally loosened in her hair, sliding weakly down to grip her shoulder as tremors continued wracking him long after the last shudder.
She slowly pulled back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, tasting salt and the electric tingle of magic lingering on her tongue. Her gaze lifted to find her brother staring at her, grey-green eyes wide and dazed, pupils blown black with shock and residual pleasure. Sweat slicked his temples, his chest still heaving as if he'd sprinted miles.
Justin's hand trembled as it rose, fingers brushing her cheekbone with reverence that made her breath catch. "God, Alex..." His voice scraped raw, barely audible.
He swallowed hard, gaze drifting from her swollen lips to the faint gold sparks flickering beneath her collarbone; a visible echo of the magic still humming between them. His thumb traced her lower lip, smearing the faint dampness there, and she felt the answering thrum deep in her belly.
The vulnerability in his eyes was terrifying—a raw, exposed nerve laid bare—until he suddenly pulled her against his chest, burying his face in her messy dark hair with a ragged inhale.
His breath warmed her scalp as his arms locked tight around her waist, fingers splaying possessively over the small of her back. "Just... hold on," he murmured against her temple, the plea rough with unshed emotion.
Alex felt the frantic hammering of his heart beneath her palm where it rested on his sternum, the lingering tremors still coursing through him like aftershocks. They lay tangled in silence broken only by their uneven breathing and the distant honk of Cambridge traffic; a fragile ceasefire where words felt like landmines. His fingers traced idle patterns along her spine, each touch reigniting sparks beneath her skin, each passing second thickening the charged air with unspoken questions.
Slowly, deliberately, Justin pressed a lingering kiss just below her temple—soft, reverent. His lips traced a slow path along her cheekbone, feather-light as they brushed the faint gold sparks flaring at her jawline. His fingers slid gently beneath her chin, tilting her face upward until her dark eyes met his dilated, stormy gaze.
"My turn," he whispered, voice gravel-rough yet impossibly soft. His thumb brushed her lower lip, wiping away the taste of his release still lingering there.
Then his lips covered hers; not demanding, not claiming, but a hesitant exploration. Soft, achingly slow, a question pressed against her mouth. She melted instantly, a sigh escaping her as tension bled from her shoulders, her hand rising to tangle in his damp hair, anchoring herself against the dizzying tenderness.
He deepened the kiss gradually—still slow, still soft—tongue tracing the seam of her lips until she opened with a shuddering gasp. Her back arched instinctively toward him, seeking contact, but he held her gently against the mattress, his weight settling over her hips without crushing her. His lips moved with deliberate patience; sucking lightly at her lower lip, tracing the sensitive skin around her mouth, while his hands explored her soft skin.
Cool fingertips skimmed her bare thighs, raising gooseblesh as they traveled upward, unhurried, savoring the softness of her skin against his calloused palms. Between her own thighs, she felt him stirring again, thickening slightly against her hip; a slow, lazy resurgence, not the frantic urgency of before. He broke the kiss only to trail his lips along her jaw, down her throat, nuzzling against the frantic pulse beating beneath her skin.
"So beautiful," he murmured against her collarbone, the words vibrating against her skin. "So… terrifyingly beautiful."
One hand slid beneath her, lifting her hips slightly while the other traced the damp curve where her thigh met her hipbone. His breath ghosted warm over her skin, lips following the path his fingers charted; up the trembling plane of her belly, across her ribs. He paused at the swell of her breast, burying his face in its softness with a groan that vibrated against her skin.
"Always drove me crazy," he confessed, voice muffled against her flesh, lips dragging slow, hot circles around the peak without touching it. "Seeing you walk around in just a tank top... the way they moved..." His thumb finally brushed the hardened nipple, feather-light, making her gasp. "Thought I'd go insane."
He worshipped her right breast with unhurried precision; teasing the aching tip with the lightest flick of his tongue before drawing the whole peak deep into the heat of his mouth. His free hand cupped and lifted the neglected breast possessively, thumb mimicking his tongue's maddening rhythm on its twin.
Alex arched off the mattress with a sharp cry, fingers clawing at his shoulders, sparks flaring gold where their skin met. He pulled back only to blow softly across the wet, peaked flesh, watching her shudder before shifting his attention to torment her left breast with the same deliberate torture; suckling deep then easing off, circling the swollen areola with his tongue while his thumb rolled the other nipple into a stiff, throbbing bead.
Justin continued to lavish attention on her breasts until she was writhing beneath him, breathless whimpers escaping her lips with each sucking pull. Her fingers tangled violently in his hair, pulling him closer even as she arched away from the unbearable pleasure-pain radiating from her oversensitized peaks.
Slowly, deliberately, Justin trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses down her trembling abdomen, bypassing the frantic heat between her thighs entirely. His lips pressed a lingering kiss just below her navel—soft, reverent—then another higher up near her ribs, each touch unhurried, mapping her quivering skin with dizzying slowness.
His thumb brushed the slick heat nestled between her legs; a fleeting, maddening contact that sparked lightning through her core, before retreating upwards to trace the sensitive dip of her waist. She gasped, fingernails digging into his scalp, hips lifting instinctively toward his teasing touch.
A low chuckle vibrated against her inner thigh, dark and knowing. "Patience," he whispered, the word a hot promise breathed against her overheated skin. His breath ghosted closer to her core, agonizingly slow, the radiating heat drawing a desperate, fractured whimper from her throat.
Justin paused just above the dark curls, inhaling deeply; the scent of her arousal mingling with vanilla and spent magic sharpened the ache in his jaw. His gaze swept upwards, locking onto hers; dark, dilated pupils reflecting the faint gold sparks flickering across her collarbone.
Without breaking eye contact, he pressed a single, devastatingly soft kiss to the inside of her left thigh, an intimacy that shattered her composure more completely than any thrust. Her hips bucked violently off the mattress.
"Justin—please—" she choked out, the plea raw and ragged.
A slow, deliberate swipe of his tongue followed the path his thumb had traced moments before, barely grazing her folds, drawing a sharp cry from his sister. He lingered there, breathing hot against her damp skin, feeling her tremors intensify beneath his lips, tasting her desperation on the air.
His thumb returned, parting her slowly, deliberately, exposing her slick core as he lowered his head again. He blew softly against her, a cool shock against fevered skin, before sealing his mouth over her clit with gentle, sucking pressure.
His tongue moved with practiced deliberation; flat, broad strokes that circled without committing, tracing lazy spirals that set her nerves alight without granting relief. Every time her hips lifted, seeking more pressure, he eased back, letting his breath caress the wetness instead, or dipped lower to trace her entrance with agonizing lightness.
His knuckle brushed against her core, testing, and a low groan escaped him at the slick heat coating his skin. He needed this; the slow unraveling, the way her breath hitched, the faint gold sparks dancing along her thighs each time he denied her release. His own arousal stirred—still tender, still recovering—but the rhythm of her pulse against his tongue, the soft keening sounds torn from her throat, every tremor against his lips was rebuilding him.
He dragged his tongue flat and slow along her slit, savoring her gasp, feeling the muscles deep inside flutter against his knuckle. The restraint was exquisite torture—for both of them.
His thumb pressed firmly against her clit, no circling now, holding her suspended beneath that single point of pressure while his tongue retreated lower. He kissed her inner thigh again, lingering, before finally sliding the tip of a single finger inside her. Just the pad. Just enough to feel the velvety clench resisting him.
A shudder ripped through Alex, her cry tearing through the quiet room—half sob, half gasp—as her hands flew to fist in his hair. He held her pinned, finger unmoving, buried only to the first knuckle, while his tongue resumed its torment; circling her clit again with featherlight sweeps. The contrast was devastating: the shallow intrusion stretching her, making her ache for fullness, while the teasing pressure above denied completion.
He felt her hips jerk helplessly, pushing against his mouth while trying to impale herself deeper onto that finger, and a possessive growl vibrated against her skin. Mine. All mine.
His finger withdrew agonizingly slowly, dragging against her inner walls as Alex whimpered; a broken, desperate sound. Before she could protest, he replaced it with two fingers, pressing deep in one fluid thrust that stole her breath. Instantly, his palm ground against her clit, applying firm, relentless pressure while his fingers curled upward inside her, seeking that spot with unerring precision. Her spine arched off the mattress like a drawn bowstring as electric pleasure ripped through her core.
"Justin!" she cried out, her voice shattered, fingernails scraping bloody trails across his shoulders as sparks exploded gold against his skin.
He held her there ruthlessly; fingers pistoning in a hard, fast rhythm against her G-spot while his palm rubbed tight circles over her swollen clit, forcing sensation upon sensation until she felt herself fracturing. Her thighs clamped tight around his head as the climax tore through her violently; a silent scream tearing through her throat while her muscles convulsed around his fingers.
Justin replaced his palm on her clit with his mouth, sealing his lips over the throbbing bundle of nerves. He sucked hard, drawing it deep into the wet heat while his tongue flickered against it rapidly—clicking, relentless—like a metronome set to her frantic pulse. His fingers never slowed their brutal rhythm inside her, curling and uncurling against that sweet spot until her voice returned in ragged, gasping pleas.
"More—oh god—Justin—" The words dissolved into incoherent cries as a second wave crashed over her, weaker but deeper, rippling through her entire body in helpless tremors. She felt his groan vibrate against her clit as her inner muscles milked his fingers desperately.
He withdrew slowly, agonizing inches, leaving her twitching and hollow. Cool air kissed her wet folds as he lifted his head, lips slick and gleaming in the dim dorm light. His eyes, darkened to near black, locked onto hers, holding her suspended in the sudden stillness.
Without breaking their gaze, Justin brought his fingers to his mouth. He sucked them clean—deliberate, obscene—tongue swirling over each knuckle before dragging them slowly out. The sound, wet and sharp, echoed in the silence. She shuddered, watching him taste her release like it was nectar, her skin prickling everywhere at the raw intimacy.
A single bead of sweat traced the hard line of his jaw as he murmured, thick with arousal, "So sweet... My Alex."
His hand slid beneath her hips again—firm, possessive—lifting her effortlessly. He shifted forward, settling his weight between her trembling thighs, the thick ridge of his renewed erection pressing insistently against her slick heat. Not entering, not yet, just resting there, a promise burning hotter than any spell. His thumb brushed her clit in a slow circle, coaxing another gasp from her swollen lips.
"So beautiful," he breathed against her mouth, grey-green eyes locked on hers; dilated, desperate, drowning in her. "Tell me, Alex. What do you want?" The question hung thick in the air, charged with magic and the ghost of shared breaths.
Her thighs parted wider, knees bending instinctively to cradle him closer. Her hands slid slowly, painfully slowly, up the sweat-slicked planes of his chest, over the frantic hammering of his heart, then higher to tangle in the damp strands at the nape of his neck.
She tugged, hard, bringing his face down until their noses brushed, their lips a trembling breath apart. Her dark eyes flickered, down to his swollen mouth, then back to his storm-cloud gaze, holding him captive, holding him still.
"Make love to me," she whispered, the words barely audible, yet shattering the silence like a falling chandelier. "I want to feel you... all of you... slow."
Justin shuddered; a full-body convulsion that rippled through the corded muscles of his arms holding him poised above her. His thumb drifted lower, tracing the slick seam where their bodies pressed together, still not entering, just circling, as his gaze drank in every detail: the raw vulnerability etched across her flushed cheeks, the faint gold sparks still dancing beneath her collarbone, the way her pulse hammered visibly in the hollow of her sweat-damp throat.
He leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers, breathing her in—vanilla, musk, ozone—as he murmured against her lips, "Always... Alex. Always."
Slowly, agonizingly, he lowered himself onto her, the hard length of him sliding through her wetness, spreading her folds with deliberate friction that drew a choked gasp from her lips. He paused, suspended, the swollen head catching against her entrance, a teasing brush that made her hips jerk upward, before finally, inexorably, pressing inside.
Alex cried out, sharp and breathless, as he breached her tightness inch by torturous inch; a slow, burning stretch that filled her completely, stealing the air from her lungs. He sank deeper, hips flush against hers, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth, devastating thrust that left them both trembling.
He remained motionless then, buried inside her to the root, his sweat-slicked chest pressed flush against her breasts, forehead resting against hers, breaths mingling, hearts hammering a frantic rhythm against each other’s ribs, letting her adjust, letting the feel of his invasion settle into her flesh.
Then he opened his eyes, dark green flecked with gold, locking directly onto hers. The intensity there wasn’t the panicked horror of their kiss on stage, or the raw desperation from moments earlier. It was a terrifying, unwavering clarity. His hand lifted, trembling slightly, to cradle her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheekbone where a stray spark flickered and faded.
"Alex," he whispered, the name raw, scraped bare. "I... God. I love you." The admission hung suspended between them; simple words, impossible weight. "I've loved you... forever. Since before I knew what it meant." His thumb traced the frantic pulse in her throat, his gaze never wavering. "I just... hid it. Behind everything."
Her breath caught—sharp, painful. The truth of it slammed into her ribs harder than any spell backlash. That relentless protectiveness, the way he’d always seen her, even when she was chaos incarnate. The agony in his eyes yesterday when he’d recoiled from her touch wasn’t disgust. It was terror; terror of this. Of drowning in her, of ruining everything. Her defences; the teasing, the deflection, the furious denial, crumbled like ash. Tears blurred her vision.
"Justin..." Her voice cracked, whisper-thin. "I... I didn't see it." She swallowed hard, tasting salt and ozone. "I was so fucking blind." Her fingers tightened convulsively in his hair. "But... God... I love you. I love you so much it hurts." The words tore free, a ragged, broken sound, as her magic surged uncontrolled, bathing his face in flickering gold light.
Justin’s eyes squeezed shut, a tremor rippling through him, before his mouth crashed down on hers. This kiss wasn’t tentative exploration; it was raw salvation. A groan ripped from his chest, vibrating against her lips as he angled her jaw deeper.
His tongue plunged, claiming, desperate; a frantic counterpoint to the slow, possessive rhythm his hips began. He withdrew achingly slow, each inch a deliberate torture, only to thrust back with deliberate, grinding force. She gasped into his mouth, her back arching off the mattress as he filled her completely again; every drag igniting sparks along her nerves. He broke the kiss only to gasp damply against her throat, teeth grazing her pulse point.
"Feel me," he rasped, his breath scalding her skin. His hands slid beneath her; one palm splayed against her lower back, lifting her hips into each thrust, the other tangling possessively in her hair. "Every inch."
His rhythm remained agonizingly deliberate; deep, measured strokes that stretched and filled her with torturous thoroughness. Each withdrawal left her hollow, aching; each return a shuddering reclamation.
Sparks flared gold where their skin met—his shoulder, her thigh—and the air thickened with ozone and vanilla. Her fingernails scraped down his sweat-slicked spine, her thighs clamping tight around his hips, urging him deeper still, as a low, throaty sob escaped her lips. He felt it then; the tightening coil low in her belly, the frantic flutter around his length as she neared the brink again.
"This," Justin breathed against her mouth, grey-green eyes burning into hers—dark, dangerous, utterly focused. "This is yours."
His thrusts shifted; no longer slow, but sharp and shallow, grinding his pelvis against her clit with every snap of his hips. The friction was brutal, blinding; each movement striking that swollen bundle of nerves with relentless precision.
Her cry tore through the room—raw, ragged—as sensation overloaded her, driving her over the edge violently. Her magic erupted, wild and uncontrolled, golden light flooding the cramped dorm room, illuminating dust motes dancing like frantic fireflies.
Her thighs clamped like a vise around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper as the tremors wracked her body. She dragged his mouth back down to hers in a desperate kiss, tongue plunging, teeth clashing, as sparks showered from their tangled fingers. Her moan vibrated against his lips—low, primal—as pleasure ripped through her core in shuddering waves.
Their magic coiled tighter, hotter, a volatile serpent of gold and cedar-scented ozone thrashing beneath their skin. Justin groaned against her, his rhythm faltering for a single, shattered heartbeat before he drove into her with a final, brutal thrust—deep, claiming—as his own release surged.
Heat flooded her core, thick and pulsing, as he buried his face in the damp hollow of her neck with a choked, ragged cry; his entire body trembling, pinned against hers by the ferocity of her own climax. The gold light flared blindingly bright before snapping out, plunging them into near-darkness; only the rain’s rhythm and their harsh, mingled breaths filling the sudden void.
Slowly, the frantic drumming in his ears faded, replaced by Alex's heartbeat thudding against his ribs. He lifted his head, grey-green eyes searching hers in the gloom; still dazed, still breathless. His thumb brushed her sweat-slicked bottom lip, a tender gesture incongruous with the raw intensity still humming through them.
"Alex..." His voice emerged hoarse, scraped raw. A tremor ran through his arms braced on either side of her head. He didn't pull away, just held her pinned beneath him, flesh to flesh, heartbeat to heartbeat, as reality seeped back in: the rain, the dorm room, the tangled sheets beneath her trembling thighs.
His gaze dropped to her lips—swollen, parted—then flicked back to her eyes, dark and fathomless. The sheer vulnerability in his expression, stripped bare, made her chest ache.
Alex slid a shaky hand up his sweat-dampened spine, muscles rigid with spent tension, her fingertips tracing the knobs of his vertebrae until they reached the nape of his neck. She buried them there, anchoring, as her thumb swept the sharp angle of his jaw. The silence stretched, thick with unshed tears and ozone, while the renewed storm rattled the windowpane. Her throat tightened.
"So..." she whispered—rough, tentative—her voice still wrecked. "...not pretend." The words hung suspended; a fragile bridge spanning the chasm their confession had torn open.
Her gaze flickered down, involuntarily, to where their bodies remained fused, slick and impossibly close. Her hips shifted, testing, a fluttering clench deep inside drawing a sharp gasp from her lips and a low groan from his.
Justin’s eyes snapped open; dark green blazing with fierce certainty. "No," he rasped, voice thick, strained. "Never pretend. Not anymore." His thumb swept her cheekbone again, possessive now, smearing a stray tear-track. "This..." He pressed impossibly deeper inside her, a deliberate pulse that stole her breath, "...this is real."
The declaration resonated—raw, irrevocable—echoing the frantic beat of their hearts pounding against each other's ribs. For a suspended moment, he held her gaze, tethered, drinking in her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, the gold sparks still fading beneath her skin like dying embers.
Then, inevitably, his head tilted sideways, drawn to the relentless green glow cutting through the dimness atop his cluttered desk. The alarm clock. 9:47 AM. His entire body stiffened; a sudden, violent rigidity, as the fragile cocoon shattered.
"Shit. The brunch—" he choked out, panic lacing the gravel in his voice. "Less than an hour." The curse hissed through clenched teeth—sharp, desperate—the sound of crumbling walls and impending doom.
Alex felt the shift instantly, a sudden coil of tension in the muscles pressed against her inner thighs, the draining warmth replaced by icy dread radiating from his skin. She watched the panic fracture his expression, the vulnerability swallowed by frantic calculation, and it sparked something reckless, achingly familiar, in her chest.
A slow, sly grin curved her lips, bruised and triumphant, as she pressed her palm flat against the frantic hammering beneath his ribs. "Relax, dork," she breathed—soft, teasing—her breath ghosting over his parted lips.
Before he could react, before the protest could form, she closed the scant distance, pressing her mouth firmly to his; a quick, claiming kiss that tasted of salt and shared secrets. His lips froze under hers, stunned, then yielded, briefly; a fleeting surrender.
She pulled back barely an inch, close enough to watch his pupils dilate, her smile widening, a glint of pure mischief igniting in her dark eyes. A single gold spark flickered at the corner of her smile.
"We have plenty of time," she murmured, the assurance a low, intimate promise. Her hands slid down his sweat-slicked back; possessive, anchoring, her fingers tracing the dip of his spine before settling lightly on his hips. She tilted her head, a playful challenge, her gaze locking onto his storm-cloud eyes. "Take a shower with me?"
The invitation hung—charged, intimate—a deliberate pivot from panic. Her thumb brushed the sharp jut of his hipbone, a tender echo of the possessiveness he’d shown moments before.
"It’s faster," she added—soft, persuasive—a flicker of heat returning to her gaze. "And I promise... no magic." A lie, they both knew better, but the kind meant to soothe, to tempt. Her smile deepened; pure, wicked Alex, as she whispered the clincher, "Unless you want some."
The hesitation bled from Justin’s shoulders, replaced by a slow exhalation; a surrender to the inevitable pull between them. His gaze softened, flickering from panic to raw tenderness, as he leaned in, brushing his nose against hers.
"Yeah," he breathed, hoarse but steadying, the single word a vow. He shifted—careful, deliberate—withdrawing from her warmth with a shared gasp that fractured the stillness.
Cool air kissed her damp skin; a startling counterpoint to the lingering heat pooling low in her belly, as he slid off the bed. His hands remained, one clasping hers, the other resting possessively on her hip, anchoring her to him, anchoring them both to the moment. She swung her legs over the edge, slight tremors still chasing each other up her thighs, and stood, facing him.
The intimacy hung thick; bared skin, tangled breaths, as Justin stepped back, just far enough to allow her movement, his grey-green eyes never leaving hers. The rain-streaked window cast shifting shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the faint bruise forming beneath his collarbone, where her teeth had marked him. His thumb traced the curve of her hip, lingering, before he released his hold, offering his hand, palm up, an invitation.
"Come on," he murmured—voice low, intimate—a shared secret in the muted dawn light. His gaze dropped, briefly, to the slick sheen between her thighs, then snapped back to hers; intense, focused. "Before we actually are late."
Justin led her, fingers interlaced, across the narrow dorm room, past the discarded hoodie snagged on a chair leg, the tangled sheets smelling faintly of sweat and vanilla, toward the cramped bathroom door. Alex paused just inside the doorway, her bare feet cool on the tile as Justin reached past her shoulder, stretching, muscles flexing beneath sweat-slicked skin to twist the faucet handles.
Water roared, a sudden testament, plumeing into steam that misted the small mirror instantly. The sound echoed, amplified in the confined space, as Justin turned, crowding her backward until her spine met the damp wall tile, cold piercing through the lingering heat of her skin.
He pinned her there, not with force, but with presence, his hips flush against hers, the hard ridge of his renewed arousal pressing insistently against her belly; a potent reminder of the storm they’d unleashed. His mouth claimed hers, slow, deep, tongue exploring the taste of salt and exhaustion and them; while his hands slid thoroughly down her sides, palming her hips, lifting her.
Alex wrapped her legs around his waist, instinctive, as sparks, dull gold, crawled across her damp skin where his fingers gripped her flesh. His lips trailed hot and wet, down her throat, sucking a bruise into her pulse point as he carried her, step by deliberate step, into the cloud of steam beneath the spray.
Water sluiced over them; scalding first, then easing, washing away sweat and seed, leaving only the slick feel of skin sliding against skin beneath the downpour. He pressed her back against the chilled tile, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand, while the other drifted lower, slow, possessive exploration, his thumb circling the sensitive peak of her breast, then tracing the curve of her ribs, the dip of her waist, before settling between her thighs.
Alex gasped as his fingers found her slick heat again, intent, deliberate, stroking the swollen bud already throbbing from their earlier frenzy. Sparks, dull gold, flickered where his skin met hers; steam coiled around them like phantom hands. His mouth traced her jawline—hot, open-mouthed kisses—before biting softly at her earlobe.
"Still sore?" he murmured, voice rough against her damp skin. His fingers slid deeper, a slow, curling drag, making her hips jerk forward against his palm.
She choked out his name, half curse, half plea, her nails scoring his forearm as he pressed harder, faster. Her legs tightened instinctively around his hips, locking him against her.
"A little," she breathed, ragged, pulling his face down to hers. Her kiss was fierce, tongue plunging deep, as her hand slipped between their slick bodies. Her fingers wrapped around his aching erection, hot and rigid against her belly, guiding him against her slick entrance. "Not too sore for this."
Justin groaned—low, shattered—as she positioned him, the blunt head catching against her swollen, sensitive folds. He pulled his fingers from her wetness slowly, dragging a gasp from her, before pressing two fingertips firmly against her clit, circling slow, deliberate pressure that made her spine arch off the tile.
Water streamed over them, rivulets tracing the frantic pulse in Justin’s throat, as he pressed forward, breaching her tightness inch by agonizing inch. Her inner muscles clenched, fluttering around his intrusion; a sharp ache blooming alongside the friction-sparked pleasure.
He paused, buried halfway, jaw clenched, sweat mingling with the shower spray. His grey-green eyes locked onto hers, dark, intense, as his thumb continued its relentless circles over her throbbing bud.
"Still?" he rasped, voice strained against the roar of water, his hips trembling with restraint.
Alex dug her nails into his shoulders, baring her teeth. "Don't stop," she hissed, bucking upward, forcing him deeper; a sharp cry tearing from her lips as he filled her completely, pinning her against the cold tile. Sparks flickered where their hips met.
His rhythm began; a measured, deep thrusting that sent shockwaves through her core with each slow withdrawal and relentless return. Steam thickened the air, wrapping them in a cocoon where only sensation existed: the scrape of tile against her spine, the hot slide of his skin against hers, the desperate pressure of his thumb grinding against her clit.
His mouth claimed hers again—hungry, possessive—tongue mimicking the deep, driving pace of his hips. Her moans vibrated against his lips, her legs tightening around his waist, urging him faster, harder. She dragged her hands down his back, tracing the rigid muscles flexing beneath damp skin. Then her fingers tangled in his wet hair, pulling his head back to expose his throat, her teeth sinking into the taut tendon where neck met shoulder.
Justin gasped, sharp and ragged, his thrusts faltering for a heartbeat before surging deeper, wilder. Magic surged unchecked; golden sparks exploding from Alex’s skin, crimson flares igniting along Justin’s collarbone, as the water hissed where it struck their heated flesh. The tile cracked beneath her pinned wrists, spiderwebbing with hairline fractures.
"Yours," Justin choked out against her temple; a raw, fragmented vow, his fingers pressing harder, circling faster against her clit.
Her climax slammed into her—violent, blinding—ripping a scream from her throat that drowned in the roar of the shower. Her inner walls clenched around him like a vise, dragging him deeper as tremors wracked her body.
He followed instantly, a strangled cry tearing from him, driving one last time to the hilt, burying himself inside her shuddering heat. Magic pulsed from him; thick, molten gold, flooding her core as he slumped against her, forehead pressed to the slick tile. Steam swallowed them whole, water sluicing over their tangled forms, washing away sweat, tears, the slick mess between her thighs.
Slowly, the violent sparks faded, leaving only the dimpled bruises Alex’s teeth had left on his shoulder glowing faintly crimson.
"God, Justin," she gasped, her voice fraying against the shower's roar as trembling hands braced against his shoulders; still slick, still shaking.
Water plastered his black hair to his forehead, droplets catching on his lashes as he lifted his head; grey-green eyes hazy, unfocused, to meet hers. His thumb brushed her jawline, slow, reverent, before trailing down to trace the fresh bruise purpling her collarbone.
A shudder ran through him, part exhaustion, part disbelief, as his hips shifted instinctively against hers, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips where their bodies remained fused. Steam thickened between them, a veil, as her fingernails scraped lightly down his spine.
"We’re gonna be late," she murmured—not a protest, but a breathless concession—her gaze locked on the crimson glow fading from his bitten shoulder.
Slowly, carefully, Justin slid his hands beneath her thighs, palms pressing into the tender muscle, and lowered her, inch by trembling inch, back onto the slick tile floor. Cool air rushed between their damp skin as his softened length slid free from her heat; a slow, aching separation that drew twin gasps from their throats.
Alex swayed, unsteady—her legs liquid, shaking—as he braced her against the wall with a forearm pressed firmly beside her head. Water sluiced over them, washing away the mingled sweat and slickness clinging to her thighs, as he reached blindly over the shower ledge. His fingers closed around the bar of cheap soap; pine-scented, utilitarian, and he began lathering his palms briskly, the scent sharp against the humid steam.
"Then we should hurry," he rasped, voice raw and strained, as he dragged his soapy hands down her arms, her ribs, her hips; scrubbing away the evidence of their frenzy with rough, efficient strokes that grazed the fresh bruises blooming on her skin. "Did I hurt you?"
The question came low, urgent, accusation and worry tangled in his tone, as his thumbs pressed into the delicate curve of her hip bones. She hissed—half pain, half pleasure—as the soap stung her scraped shoulder blades where the cracked tile had bitten into her skin.
"Stop fussing," she muttered, voice thick and unsteady, pushing weakly at his chest. Her palms slid against his wet skin; she felt the frantic hammering of his heart beneath her fingertips. "It’s fine." She snatched the soap from his slippery grasp, her knuckles brushing his abdomen, and shoved him backward under the spray. "You’re wasting water."
Steam coiled thickly as she lathered her own hands, pine sharpening the humid air, and reached for him. Her fingers skimmed the crimson bite mark on his shoulder, a savage crescent, before sliding down his chest, scrubbing hard at the dried streaks of her own nail marks raked across his pectorals. He flinched, a sharp intake of breath, as her thumb dug into a deep purple bruise blooming just below his collarbone. Her touch gentled, instinctively, fingers tracing the outline of the bruise while water streamed over his skin, rinsing away the soap and the faint copper scent of blood mixed with steam.
"See?" Her gaze flicked up to his, dark and defiant, as her hand drifted lower. "We stain each other," she murmured, rough and intimate, her palm skimming the jut of his hipbone. "It’s what we do." The declaration hung—fragile, dangerous—in the space between them.
Justin caught her wrist—sudden, sharp—fingers tightening over the pulse point beneath her skin. Steam thickened, pine sharpness fading beneath ozone crackle, as sparks flared crimson where his thumb pressed into her racing heartbeat. He pulled her hand away, slowly and deliberatly, his grey-green eyes locked onto hers.
"Later," he promised, voice low, graveled with restraint, the word a vow laced with heat.
He snatched the soap back roughly, dragging it hard across her abdomen; cleansing, possessive, before turning her brusquely under the spray. Water sluiced violently over her shoulders, washing away soap and lingering magic, as he scrubbed her back with brisk, efficient strokes.
"We've got a brunch to survive." His knuckles brushed the base of her spine—brief, electric—before he shoved the soap bar into her hand again.
Alex caught it, fingers trembling against the slippery surface. The cold tile bit into her hip as she bent quickly, swiping soap down her legs, scrubbing away the soreness between her thighs with rough haste. Steam pressed heavy around them, thick and humid.
Justin’s reflection blurred in the fogged mirror, a lean, tense shadow rinsing shampoo from his hair, his jaw rigid, shoulders coiled with the weight of unspoken things. She straightened, flicking wet hair from her eyes, catching his gaze in the mirror. His grey-green eyes met hers, burning with unresolved wildfire, then flicked away sharply.
Outside, thunder growled low, a fading counterpoint to the relentless drumming on the window. Justin twisted the faucet hard, silencing the shower with a sudden jerk. The abrupt stillness stung, only their ragged breaths echoing off wet tile.
He shoved the glass door open, stepped onto the bathmat, dripping, and grabbed two towels blindly from the rack. He wrapped one tightly around his hips, hiding the fading sparks tracing his hipbone. Then, he turned, steam swirling around him like dissipated magic.
He shook out the other towel; thick, grey, smelling faintly of cheap dorm detergent, and stepped close. She stood shivering slightly under the spray's ghost, water tracing paths down her bruised collarbone. With surprising tenderness, he draped the towel around her shoulders like a cloak, pulling it snugly against her damp skin. He leaned down, his lips brushing the damp shell of her ear, a feather-light touch that sent a tremor through her, before pressing a soft, closed-mouth kiss against the corner of her jaw, tasting shower water and exhaustion.
"Come on," he murmured, voice low and graveled with leftover strain, his breath warm against her skin. "We have to hurry."
Alex gripped the towel edges tightly, knuckles whitening as she watched him stride, dripping, toward the fogged mirror. He wiped a rough circle clear with his forearm, revealing his reflection; jaw clenched, grey-green eyes shadowed, the savage bite mark on his shoulder stark against pale skin.
She wrapped the towel tighter, the rough fabric scraping the tender marks on her spine, as she followed him out of the humid bathroom. Cool dorm air prickled her damp skin instantly.
They dried briskly in the oppressive dorm silence, Justin scrubbing the towel harshly over his shoulders, covering the bite mark, while Alex wrapped hers tighter, shivering as cool air prickled her damp skin.
He pulled on dark jeans and a slate-gray button-down shirt with stiff precision, fingers fumbling slightly on the cuffs. Alex dressed in the clothes she’d brought for the brunch; soft black leggings, a loose cobalt sweater that slipped off one bruised shoulder, and instantly Justin’s gaze snagged there, his jaw tightening.
He crossed the small space in two strides, his fingers brushing her collarbone as he tugged the fabric back into place. His touch lingered, a silent claim, before he turned abruptly to jam his feet into worn loafers. The pine soap smell still clung to them, sharp beneath the lingering ozone.
Alex glanced at the heavy crystal award on Justin's cluttered desk, its sharp facets catching the muted city light. HELIOS stood beside it, powered down and still coated in her faint protection spell; a shimmer like residual dust.
"Congrats, nerd," she murmured, the teasing nickname softening into something genuine. Her fingers brushed the cool crystal, tracing the etched words Young Innovator. "Seriously. I'm happy for you." The admission felt raw, vulnerable, stripping away their usual armor of pranks and insults.
Justin paused mid-buttoning his cuff, his gaze snapping to hers. Steam still clung faintly to his temples, dampening the dark hair at his forehead. The intensity in his grey-green eyes softened, a flicker of wonder replacing the wildfire.
"You saved it," he said quietly, stepping closer. His thumb grazed her jawline, barely touching, but the contact sparked low gold embers beneath her skin. "Saved me." The weight of the weekend—Vance, the sabotage, the tangled mess of magic and desire—hung thick between them. "I’m glad you were here," he added, rough-voiced, his gaze dropping briefly to the cobalt sweater slipping off her shoulder again before meeting her eyes. "Would've imploded without you."
Alex snorted softly, shoving his chest. Her palm registered the frantic drumming of his heart beneath crisp cotton. "Don't go getting sentimental on me now, dork," she teased, but her throat tightened. She nodded toward HELIOS. "Besides, that bucket of bolts owes me." Her smirk faded as she leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Brunch. How screwed are we?" Her breath ghosted warm against his jaw. "You look like you wrestled a bear."
Justin’s cheeks flushed scarlet, instantly visible beneath the damp strands of black hair clinging to his temples. He cleared his throat, fumbling with the final cufflink.
"They'll probably just… assume," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze, staring intently at the gleaming chrome. "That we celebrated my award. All night." He swallowed hard, the flush creeping down his neck. "Which is mortifying, but…" He finally lifted his grey-green eyes, filled with a strange mix of defiance and profound relief. "At least they don't know you're my sister." The weight of the secret hitched his voice, transforming embarrassment into fierce, protective desperation.
Alex snorted, grabbing her worn leather messenger bag. The ache between her thighs intensified with every step towards the door. "Relax, genius," she drawled, swinging the bag onto her shoulder with deliberate nonchalance.
She paused, her hand hovering over the doorknob, cobalt sleeve sliding down her arm again. "Just think of it as improv." A faint, dangerous spark flickered in her dark brown eyes as she glanced back at him. "Act III: The Brilliant Scientist and His… Wildly Dedicated Girlfriend Survives Brunch." Her smirk widened, sharpening into something predatory. "Rule one: You owe me Belgian waffles. Syrup volcano optional."
Justin chuckled; a low, rusty sound tinged with lingering disbelief, as he grabbed his keys and wallet from his cluttered desk. He followed her out, the dorm room shrinking behind them. His hand found the curve of her waist with startling ease, fingers splaying possessively against the soft knit of her cobalt sweater.
As the door clicked shut behind them, sealing away the tangled sheets and ozone scent, he leaned down swiftly. His lips brushed her cheekbone, a fleeting warmth against damp skin, then lingered near her ear.
"Girlfriend," he whispered, the word rough but deliberate, tasting of possibility and profound relief. Heat bloomed where his breath touched her skin, chasing the dorm’s institutional chill. She felt his smile against her temple before he straightened. "I like the sound of that."
His thumb pressed firmly against her hipbone, anchoring her as they moved down the sterile hallway towards the elevator bank.