Warning: The pairing is Wanda/Pietro. YES. I know I'm bad already so you don't have to tell me again. Anyway, this is only PG, but rated higher for language. I would greatly appreciate any reviews. No flames, as you have clearly been warned right here. No need to read it if you cannot cope with that. So, all in all: this contains a tiny touch of twincest. :)
PS: Contains a wee bit of Toad-bashing. :P
ALSO: Wanda is full of spite. :D
There was a creak somewhere on the stairs.
Someone else was awake.
Wanda scowled. Nobody else should be awake right now. Nobody but her. It was understandable for her to be awake, since she had only just recently been freed from that terrible asylum place and rightfully was having insomnia—but no one else had any right to bother her. Even if this was their house before hers. Those bastards.
She stabbed her spoon viciously into her bowl of ice cream; upon the entrance of the intruder, she made sure to be in the middle of maiming the perfect little round scoop. Pietro, that asshole. That horrible excuse for a sibling. What was he doing down here? She thought she had taught him when she had almost impaled him with that ski. He should know that she wanted nothing to do with the likes of him.
Maybe when she felt less murderous, and when her anger and bitterness subsided, she would want to try and repair the damage done to their relationship. Maybe. But that was probably not going to be anytime soon. Wanda glared dangerously up at him, keeping her spoon clenched tight in her fist in a silent threat.
"Can't sleep?" he asked, his eyes falling on her angry fist. Wanda knew that Pietro was not ignorant; he knew very well that she was terribly pissed off and quite likely to take everything out on him. But surely he must have been stupid, if he was going to try and talk to her when she was in this mood? Stupid boy.
"No," she snapped, continuing to vent on her ice cream. "I just don't feel like dealing with all the nightmares I'll probably have if I do decide to sleep."
"Oh," Pietro had the decency to look a little ashamed. He watched her mash her ice cream into lumps for a moment and then peered up to her eye level. She could feel him trying to make eye contact, but she refused to meet his gaze. "Wanda," he said. "Don't you want some toppings or something for that?"
A little surprised at the unexpected change of subject, Wanda turned to him with raised eyebrows. "Toppings? Like what? Fucking sprinkles and rainbows?"
"Well, we don't have much," Pietro said, going to the cabinets and opening them, seeming unable to cope with being too still for too long. "There might be sprinkles or something in here. I know we have chocolate…" he trailed off as he started to dig through the contents of the cabinets.
"Oh, well, it doesn't matter, Pietro," Wanda sighed, going back to stabbing her ice cream, with somehow less vigor than before. Stupid peace offerings. She hated him sometimes. Stupid.
"I'll find it if you want it," he told her, peeking his head from behind the opened cabinet door.
"But I don't want it," she kept her gaze down again, avoiding the eye contact again. It was easier and more comfortable to hate him when she didn't have to look into his eyes. Especially since those eyes were her own. "I am used to plain."
"Well, if that's what you want…" Pietro shrugged, obviously not about to argue with her or say anything to annoy her too badly. He was probably still afraid of her. He had been afraid in the bathroom earlier. She had clearly seen the fear reflecting in those eyes that mirrored hers. But if he was still afraid, then why the hell would he come and try to talk to her in the middle of the night when there was no one here to protect him if she decided to hurt him? He only cared about himself. Didn't he know better? This stupid boy; he must have had a death wish.
"What're you doing down here anyway?" Wanda demanded.
"I don't sleep very well," he stated, opening the refrigerator now, and pulling out a little container of pudding. "It has to do with my being so fast or something." He examined the little container in his hand and then searched through silverware. "My mind is too fast to settle down at boring, lame, slow speeds."
Wanda rolled her eyes, leaning one elbow on the worn table. "I'm sure I could make you go to sleep, if that's what you want," she told him, in a semi-threatening tone.
Pietro sat down in the chair in front of her, seeming untroubled by her threats. "Thanks, but no thanks," he said coolly. "I'm sure I can figure it out on my own."
She glowered at him, and then looked down to her ice cream that she had mashed pretty much into liquid form. Dammit. This was his fault too. Everything was his fault.
"So, how's father?" she asked darkly, breaking the momentary silence that had fallen between them.
"I don't know," Pietro said promptly, leaning his chair back on two legs and starting on his pudding. "Why would I know?"
"Because you're Pietro," she spun her ice cream in a circle with her spoon. "You're father's number one lackey. You'll do anything he says."
"That's not true," he said irritably, setting his chair back on all fours and leaning forward on his elbows, as though he was about to tell her a bit of a secret. "I don't take orders from anyone. Father can't tell me what to do."
"Oh, okay," Wanda said sardonically. "So, I suppose you decided to help leave me alone in that asylum on your own accord. Well, that's even better, Pietro."
"No! He—I—Wanda!" Pietro protested, scowling. "You know I didn't want to leave you there! Don't twist my words around like that; I had to listen then. We were little! I would change everything if I could."
"But you can't," she said flatly, shoveling a portion of mashed ice cream into her mouth. "You can't change it, and you can't make me normal again." She swallowed, and then set to work on re-mutilating the ice cream.
Pietro watched her for a moment. "Well, nobody's normal, Wanda..."
Wanda rolled her eyes. "You say that like we all were locked up in insane asylums at age six. Like we all were abandoned with no family, like we ALL have twin brothers who don't care what happens to us."
"I care what happens to you!" Pietro protested. "I didn't want you to go; don't you listen when I tell you that? I really didn't!" He frowned, swallowing some more pudding down. "Sometimes I think you just want to complain; like you're exaggerating. I mean, when you were there, you still did normal stuff, like, you ate, you watched some TV, you learned a little…"
"Fuck that!" Wanda exclaimed. "I am not exaggerating one fucking little bit! I have no experience with anything, Pietro! Nothing! I don't know how to tie my shoes, or how to set the clock on a VCR, or how to kiss a boy or anything! I could learn, but fuck! My childhood is gone!"
"Kiss a boy?" Pietro repeated, wrinkling his nose up. "What would you need experience like that for?"
"I don't know!" Wanda said wildly, throwing her hands out to the side. "Normal girls my age know how to do it, and I don't." She growled, folding her arms across her chest sullenly.
"Wanda," Pietro gave her a stern look. "You don't need to kiss anyone—kissing is gross."
"Yeah?" she retorted. "Well, then why the hell does everyone else do it?"
He frowned. "Well, it's good sometimes. With the right person, I guess. But Wanda, believe me, you don't need to be kissing anyone. Just trust me on this."
"Because your judgment is obviously wonderful," she said sarcastically.
"Wanda, really," Pietro insisted. "I mean it. Kissing is not for everyone—especially not for you. I—I know these things."
Wanda smirked. "You just don't want me to. Oh, you're protective. That's sweet, 'Tro. I could have used this ten years ago when father was sending me away."
"No," he said defensively, a bit of color rising in his face. "God, Wanda, can you please forget about the asylum for one second while we talk?"
"You stay there for ten years and tell me to forget it," she snapped. "You have your childhood taken away and tell me to forget it. God." She licked at her spoon again and then glared up at him again. "So, you think I'm abnormal. This is a wonderful turn of events."
Pietro scoffed. "I never said that!"
Wanda gestured him with her spoon. "You implied it. You said that kissing is not for me, but since all normal people do it, you're basically saying that I'm not normal."
He rolled his eyes. "That wasn't what I meant at all, Wanda, and you know it. Kissing isn't for all normal people, first of all; everyone likes things different and you never know what will be up someone's alley. I just don't think it's up your alley, and I would hate for you to get into a situation that you don't like. Because I care."
"Whatever, Pietro," Wanda said, spinning her liquid ice cream in a lazy circle. "You don't know me well enough to judge that. Twins or no twins, we were apart for ten years. I ought to go outside and go kiss the first guy I see, just so I can get this thing over with."
"Wanda!" Pietro exclaimed, his brow furrowing in the middle. "Don't you do that! What if he has herpes or something on his mouth? What then, huh? Then you'll regret not listening to me."
"Fine," she said, licking her spoon and then going back to stirring, feeling a certain degree amused now. "I could always go for Todd, I guess. I know he likes me; I bet he'll be willing to do it."
"That's gross!" Pietro snapped. "He's smelly! And he only bathes once a month! If anyone has diseases in their mouth, it's him!"
"Or Freddy, I suppose," Wanda continued as though he had not spoken. "He's pretty nice, and usually not that annoying."
"Or Lance, even," Wanda grinned at the horror on her brother's face, all the issues she had with him momentarily forgotten when she could shock him so intensely, so easily. "He's pretty attractive. I bet he'd be fun to kiss."
"Wanda, don't you dare do that!" Pietro insisted, leaning across the table and clenching his hands into fists. "Boys have cooties! You're—you don't want to do that; believe me. You really don't."
Wanda snickered; it really was too easy to work him up. "Who are you to tell me what I want? You helped keep me away from all my experiences, so why should I listen to you?"
"Wanda, please," Pietro gestured with his spoon as he spoke. "I'm sorry, and you know that—you don't need to go kissing gross people to try and spite me; that's stupid. I didn't think you were this petty. Jeez, Wanda, come on!"
"Oh, so now you're going to insult me?" Wanda raised her eyebrows, almost-amused. "Wow, you're strategies never cease to amaze me." She paused, and then rose to her feet. "I'll be back."
"Where're you going?" he demanded instantly.
Wanda set her plate down on the table, taking her sweet time in responding, knowing that his impatience would make that moment of wait unbearable. "Oh, I don't know…" she said. "I'm going to pay Toad a visit; maybe he'll turn into a prince if I kiss him!" And with that, she rushed out of the kitchen, realizing too late that to run from Pietro was completely futile.
"Wanda!" Pietro called, rushing right after her and slowing his pace to walk at her side while she was hurrying up the stairs. "Wanda, don't do this. You don't even like him! And he's gross and smelly—not your type at all!"
"My type," Wanda scoffed, elbowing him as she reached the hallway where everyone slept. "Don't pretend like you know me, Pietro."
"He doesn't brush his teeth," Pietro told her. "And his tongue is green; plus he eats flies! And pretty much never bathes! That body odor is awful!"
Wanda had reached the Toad's door, and she glared at her brother. The frog boy sounded disgusting; pretty much the last thing she ever wanted to do was kiss him. Screw turning into princes or whatever; she really didn't want to choke on slime or tartar. But she wanted to spite Pietro so badly. Wanda frowned in thought, trying to decide what urge was stronger, to spite Pietro, or to avoid a mouth full of slime and disgust.
She sneered at her brother, and then raised her fist to pound on the Toad's door. She heard Pietro gasp in horror, and suddenly was aware that he was standing right in her way, blocking the door she was about to pound her fist against.
"I have no problem punching through you," she threatened.
"You'll regret this," he told her.
"Well, let me deal with it, then," she snapped, and moved her hand up to knock the spot unguarded by his head. Pietro, living up to his codename quite wonderfully, reached up and grasped her fist before it could make contact with the wood.
"Pietro!" she growled, glowering at him, looking right up into the light of his eyes. They shared an agitated glare. Releasing her fist, Pietro brought his two hands up to take hold of either side of her face, and after a very tiny beat of hesitation, he leaned forward and pressed his lips right up against hers, planting a brief, rather chaste kiss onto her mouth.
Wanda stared at him, surprise etched all over her features.
"What did you do that for?" she demanded, her voice an almost-irritated, breathy whisper.
"'Cause Toad is gross," Pietro said, and she was sure that he was blushing, though it was not easy to tell in the dim light.
"He is…" Wanda agreed, averting her gaze to the door she had almost knocked on. She looked back at her brother and then smirked. "Well, jeez, I thought a first kiss would be like, super special or something. But that wasn't fabulous in any way."
"Well, then you are warped," Pietro rolled his eyes. "Because I happen to be an excellent kisser."
Wanda scoffed. "You also happen to be full of lies."
He dropped his hands to her shoulders, pursing his lips in annoyance. "Whatever, Wanda; you just can't tell because you don't have any—"
Wanda cut him off with a rough shove in the middle of the chest, pushing him right up against Todd's bedroom door. "Any what?" her eyes flashed with her quick rage. "Any experience? Wonder why that is, dear brother?" Pietro blanched, and she barreled forward, forcing her mouth hard against his, so suddenly and unexpected that he probably would have fallen over of she had not had him pressed up against the door. She felt him take a breath of surprise, and she plunged her tongue between his lips, not really knowing what exactly she was doing, but knowing that she must be doing it right if Pietro's tongue wanted to slide up against hers, and his arms were around her shoulders.
Wanda drew back, her face only inches from his, close enough to feel the warm puffs of air he exhaled but not far enough that she couldn't meet his gaze with venom. Venom mixed in with droplets of passion, intensity, and the almost-shock of this new experience. "Experience," she repeated disdainfully. He tasted like vanilla, the flavor of the pudding he had only just consumed. "I may not have gotten any experience," she told him. "But I obviously don't need it to be better than you."
"Whatever," he murmured, looking distinctly flustered. "Beginner's luck."
She squinted her eyes at him, trying to stifle her smile. She absolutely refused to smile at him. "Sore loser." Clearing her throat, she stepped away, and wordlessly headed towards the stairs, back down to the lower levels of the Brotherhood house, where she had been before he had showed up.
"Where are you going?" Pietro called after her, almost as though he was afraid she'd go after one of the boys as she had threatened earlier.
Wanda waved one hand, not turning to face him. "Obviously, I have to finish my ice cream," she told him, like he should know this. And he should. "Stupid."