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Chapter Text

Tony had actually made Pietro and his sister a list of things to do while becoming “official Americans,” and one of the things Pietro was actually kind of excited for was a hockey game. They’d already tried baseball, which Pietro found only useful for the unholy amounts of food one could consume without being judged for it, but Pietro had hope. He’d caught glimpses of professional hockey games on TV over the years, and it seemed to move pretty fast. Right up his alley. 

Tony had gotten them amazing seats, close enough to the game that they could see all the action but not so close that they'd fear hockey players smashing through the glass panes and hitting them. It was the Rangers versus the Devils, which was apparently a big deal. Huge crowds, and most of the Avengers begging Tony for seats. In the end, Pepper actually gave up her seat to let Steve go. It was one of the most touching and oddly gay affair supporting move Pietro had ever seen. 

Tony ended up sitting next to Pietro, Steve to his other side. It would’ve weirded Pietro out, but he supposed the whole “wanting to kill Stark” thing was kinda done after months with the guy. Tony was actually, dare Pietro say it, kinda fun to hang out with. Eccentric billionaire, but less grim than Batman and more willing to strap jet ski foot thrusters onto one’s feet in an attempt to “safety” simulate the Iron Man foot thrusters during the company vacation. (Although, granted, Pietro had almost drowned himself when the thrusters sent him headfirst against the jet ski, but that was another story.)

Wanda was shivering, the poor, body-fat-less creature. Pietro hugged her from the side, trying to transfer as much heat as he could. 

“Hey, uh, Pietro?” Steve said. Pietro looked beyond Tony to Steve. “Do you think you and Wanda can cut down on the PDA? There are a lot of cameras around here.”

Pietro sighed, and resigned to giving Wanda his jacket. He knew Steve meant no harm, but it really rubbed Pietro wrong that he and Wanda couldn’t be open, or even touchy, in public in America. Sure, it wasn’t encouraged in Sokovia, but consensual incest wasn’t really a big deal. But in America, Jesus Christ, you’d think Pietro was raping Wanda. 

“Sorry, Wand,” Pietro whispered as he put the jacket on.

She smiled a bit. “Don’t worry about it.”

The hockey game got started, and Pietro was delighted to find that sure enough, the puck did go fast enough that the game itself didn’t bore him. Beer in hand, “accidentally” touching Wanda’s hand as they shared fries with the other hand, some rookie killing it for the Rangers, Pietro was actually pretty happy. A little cold, no thanks to his sister, but good. He’d have to remember to thank Tony without being sarcastic.

The jumbotrons overhead had been playing funny videos and filming crowds of hockey fans all night, but sometime in a later period of the game, they started doing something else. The camera would focus on two people, and they’d kiss to gain the stadium’s clapping.

“It’s called a kiss cam,” Tony said to anyone who’d listen. “People dig it.”

Huh.

Pietro watched the kiss cam move around the stadium, watched the couples kiss. It was kind of cute, especially when it hit old couples. 

Then, one minute Pietro was looking at the jumbotron, and the next, he was looking at himself on the screen. The camera was aimed in the general area of Wanda to Tony, and people screamed.

Pietro froze.

He watched the screen. Tony leaned over to him and puckered up. 

Ew. Sorry, Tony.

Pietro turned to Wanda and planted a solid kiss on the lips. Possibly one of his most automatic reflexes. 

If Pietro thought those fans were screaming when the Avengers just showed up, they were fucking screaming as Pietro kissed Wanda. 

How long was his kiss supposed to last? He didn’t really care. It was almost as if he forgot where he was. He pressed harder, and fuck, he totally forgot what he was doing. He wrapped his arms around her, deepened the kiss. 

It was only through the power of a beer to the back of his head that Pietro stopped kissing Wanda.

The pull away was slow, a dark turn back into reality.

Everyone in their immediate vicinity was staring at them.

One look at Tony biting back laughter and Steve’s look of horror said it all: you done fucked up.

#

The media picked it up like piranhas on a corpse: every news outlet, every magazine, every trending page on social media had some variation of MAXIMOFF TWINS — CARNAL RELATIONS EXPOSED ON KISS CAM. Half the Avengers found it hilarious, and the other half were feigning heart attacks in order to fix the “PR disaster” as if Pietro had done something wrong. Sure, he’d probably kissed Wanda too long, but that wasn’t worth all this hoopla. The media were all idiots, anyway. What did Pietro care?

The solution, a solution which Pietro had no say in, by the way, was that they’d go on the most calm news station and give an interview. A candid ass interview. Something about them telling the truth before other people discovered anything.

Wanda’s main problem lied in stage fright; Pietro would’ve been all over that, but he couldn’t keep his complete indignation at the whole thing in check. They actually made him dye the white parts of his hair brown, get a haircut, and style his facial hair, as if that’d make this any more legitimate. Business casual for him and a sundress for Wanda, softer makeup on her as well. All bullshit.

There were three women interviewing the two of them, like it was some tactical strategy to keep them outnumbered. 

Wanda was visibly shaking as they called five minutes, and in her new getup, she looked even more child-like than usual. Steve had advised them to avoid PDA before the interview, but to hell with it. He pulled her into a hug.

“It’s gonna be okay, kid,” Pietro said half-jokingly.

Wanda heaved a sigh. “I just…I hate thinking of how they’re watching us in this fishbowl, judging us like circus freaks.”

“They’ve been calling us circus freaks since the experiments.”

“We didn’t choose that. We chose each other.”

“Then let’s show them that they’re the freaks for treating love as something terrible.” Pietro smiled. “And if everything fails, some mind control isn’t out of place.”

Wanda smiled, mouthed, “no,” and they separated. 

They walked into the interview with a safe distance. Not unhappy with each other, but not with their arms around each other. Pietro could spot Steve from a spot backstage. He gave them a thumbs up.

Wanda took a seat first, and Pietro did his natural thing, going close enough for their thighs to touch. He wasn’t sure if it was Steve’s visual feedback or a signal from Wanda, but he scooted back away. 

The interviewers looked technically different, but they all looked plastic surgery ridden in trendy business casual that seemed a generation too young for them to Pietro. He instantly forgot their names, and decided to rename them Janet, Lisa, and Amy. 

Janet grinned big when everyone finished their greetings. “You two both look so cute and proper, I almost thought we had the interviews switched around.”

Wow, backhanded compliment much? Wanda blushed, wore the cutest embarrassed/forced smile he’d ever seen on her. Pietro could give a pretty convincing charming-but-really-faking-it smile to balance it out.

“Thanks,” Pietro replied.

“So,” Amy said, crossing her spray tanned legs, “let’s get right into it. Just to get it out of the way, would you two confirm that you’re involved?”

Involved…what a vague word.

“Yes, we’re romantically involved,” Pietro said. “Dating. Girlfriend, boyfriend. Whatever label you want to put on it.”

“What do you two call it?” Lisa asked.

Pietro exchanged a quick glance with Wanda. This…wasn’t that horrible? Yet?

“We uh, well, we don’t really identify fully one way or the other. Soul mates when we’re sappy, everything when we’re trying to be both accurate and romantic.”

Wanda cracked a smile at that. She’d come up with the term some years back, a way to encompass how they were each other’s siblings, mother/father, lover, best friend, and emotional confidant. 

“So you treat it like a standard relationship, really? Or is it more like,” Amy began to say, “this is my sister that I, to be frank, have sex with on the side, or do you denounce sibling in anything but the physical reality of it existing?”

“Like, pretend that we’re not siblings?” Pietro clarified.

“No, like you’d justify it by saying that God or cupid just happened to put two lovers’ souls into twins as opposed to being fully comfortable that you have romantic feelings for your twin.”

“We’re not ashamed of the fact that we’re siblings,” Pietro answered.

He hoped he hadn’t said that too venomously. 

“How did you two get together? Was it sudden? What circumstances did it come from?” Janet asked. “And let’s let Wanda speak for a bit.”

Wanda took a visible breath that Pietro hoped no one but he noticed. “We, well, we never had a fear of each other’s bodies. We…after we were orphaned, there just wasn’t room to hide anything. We’d experienced such trauma together that there never felt like there was anything that couldn’t be talked about. We knew how to comfort each other, knew exactly what to say. We only hung out with each other, and…well, to me, it developed like any young love does. For us, though, there was never, well, never a point where we feared our love could die the way young love does. We were telling each other that we loved each other the way couples do unconditionally when we were fifteen after our first kiss.”

“What was that like?”

Steve wanted them to be candid, but that…God, they’d made out in the shower of some random squatter house after Pietro had awkwardly admitted his feelings for her while she stared at his unwanted boner. 

“It was…we just acknowledged something we had always felt. As we grew older, began to have attraction to the opposite sex, we were attracted to each other. We both had the want to kiss someone, and one of us was desperate enough to voice the want. The other followed suit, and it worked.”

“How old were you?” Janet continued to prod.

“Fifteen.” Wanda was blushing again, eyes on the arm of their couch. 

“When did the sex start?”

Holy fucking shit, did Janet really just ask that on television? What channel were they on?

If it caught Pietro by surprise, Wanda was floored.

Amy leaned into Janet, not so quietly whispering the woman’s actual name.

“She’s kidding, don’t answer that,” Amy said. “Now, tell us. Is incest not stigmatized in Sokovia, or was there something you two experienced or read in your lives that made your relationship seem okay to you?”

“Incest isn’t as stigmatized in Sokovia as here. It’s a smaller gene pool, you’ll hear more stories about so-and-so’s grandparents who were siblings after being war refugees. But we never compared ourselves to others. Our relationship was unique from the beginning. It didn’t feel necessary.” 

And what do you mean by “seem okay to you”?

Wanda squeezed his hand, hard, for just a second.

Pietro bit his tongue for five seconds.

“We don’t limit our comparisons to fictional incestuous couples,” Wanda said. “We…I read a lot of romances, and I’ve never felt out of line to compare us to quote-on-quote normal relationships. I don’t think comparing incest relationships works since everyone’s circumstances are so different.”

“Yours certainly are,” Lisa said. “I’ve never heard of an incestuous relationship that was built on love rather than desire.”

Pietro wasn’t sure which would be more appropriate—laughing or making a gagging gesture. Pietro leaned back, smiled a bit. Wanda’s expressed flickered horror. “You ladies must be spending too much time on incest tag on literotica. Real-life incest isn’t a choice made lightly. How can anyone treat it that way with it still so taboo in our world? Tell me honesty: how much did you want to hear that I walked in on Wanda changing, got a hard-on, and she was so impressed with my dick size that she decided we obviously needed to bone?”

Now everyone woman in the vicinity—Wanda and the interviewers, were blushing. One actually started fanning herself.

“I was never implying—” Lisa said. “It’s just not often you see siblings who treat each other with the same balance of romantic and sexual feelings that they could so easily seem boyfriend and girlfriend. The way you kissed Wanda at that Rangers game was just as natural as it was for any of those couples in the audience. It must take some bravery.”

“I wasn’t thinking that it’d be brave to kiss my sister in front of thousands of people,” Pietro answered. “I thought that this gimmick wanted me to kiss my significant other, and my significant other was not Tony Stark, so I kissed Wanda. There was no more to it. There’s nothing weird about us. People who use the daddy kink are weirder than us.”

“Have you two ever had second thoughts?” Amy asked. “Ever sat down and thought how strange it must be to be in love with one’s sibling? You said you two weren’t raised by parents who were siblings, so there wouldn’t have been any role models.”

Okay, straight fuck this interview. Wanda and Steve better hold on.

“I feel like I should clarify something,” Pietro said. “I believe that love is love. And not just in a gay people sense. I believe it wholeheartedly, that if two consenting adults without any obvious power imbalances love each other and aren’t causing anyone direct harm, they have the right to do whatever they want. That includes consensual incest.” Amy opened her mouth, but nope. “There’ve been ethical debates on this before. Five points are typically given: incest is wrong because it can produce genetically deformed children, it may offend people’s consciences, the relationship in question is socially unacceptable, it violates the ‘natural order,’ and there may be underlying power dynamics that can’t be removed, thus the relationship is non-consensual.”

These women were already staring dumb. Pietro put up his hand, lowered his thumb. “With the argument that incestuous couples can produce deformed children is the easiest one to tear down. So, the idea is that this relationship is more likely to hurt an innocent soul, an unborn child between the couple, right?” He didn’t pause for nods. “Yet, the entire argument is hinged on the idea that number one, deformed children are lesser to society, and two, that this possibility of deformed children is enough for something to be wrong. So, are you saying that people who carry dangerous recessive genes are in ‘wrong’ relationships? Should we call an older mother who births a retarded child’s relationship with her husband wrong because of that retarded kid? I think not. Nothing is different about children born of incest, especially if the gene pool is diverse in the generation before and after the children.”

Pietro lowered his index finger. “Incest is wrong because it can be morally offensive to some people. Wait, what’s that thing that keeps getting church people pissed off…? Something like gay marriage, right? Yeah, that’s the one. And that other horrid marriage…?” Pietro snapped his fingers with his free hand. “Interracial marriage. Those offend people. Are they wrong?”

Pietro lowered his ring finger. “Same argument, really, applies for a socially unacceptable relationship. You could argue that incestuous couples don’t contribute to the gene pool, but neither do infertile couples.” Pietro resisted smirking, lowered his middle finger. “As for the natural order, I’d argue that taking said order from a Judeo-Christian standpoint, the Bible is riddled in cases of incest being the core of humanity. In fact, we’re all kinda related, so what natural order is really being destroyed? Just because we’re not Adam and Eve means we can’t have a relationship together?”

He lowered his ring finger. “And as for an underlying issue of consent because of blood relationships, here’s the thing: abuse between family members exists. As with any case of abuse whether it’s statutory rape or plain old sexual abuse where the victim is screaming all the way through, that’s despicable and deserves to be reviled. On the other hand, two adults consenting and enjoying being together seems absolutely unproblematic to me. To any moral human being, I’m sure. Is it perhaps harder to say no to someone you’ve been caring for and loved your whole life? Perhaps, but there was never a point in our relationship that I forced Wanda to do anything, and she’s never done that to me. We’re equals in every sense of the term. I have never had a single negative experience while making love to Wanda.” He glanced at Wanda. “I doubt she’ll give a different answer.” Pietro sat up straight. “So, please, if you don’t mind, don’t paint your interview questions under the assumption that we’re sinful children who’re in complete denial about how awful our ‘carnal’ relations are.”

For a while, no one spoke.

Lisa cleared her throat. “Wanda, anything to add to that?”

Wanda shook her head, the horror still on her face.

“So, you two, are in a relationship?” Amy asked.

“Yes,” Pietro and Wanda both answered.

“Since you were fifteen?”

“Yep.”

Lisa quirked a brow. “Serious?”

“We’re not breaking up,” Pietro answered.

Pietro lifted Wanda’s left finger, where he’d left that little promise/wedding ring years ago.

“Does everyone on your team know?”

Pietro and Wanda nodded.

Judging by Wanda’s quick expression change from apprehension to edginess, Janet resisted asking something like, “and what do they think about it?”

The interview sputtered into a close.

“Pietro and Wanda Maximoff, otherwise known as Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch,” Janet said. The audience clapped. “Thank you two so much.”

Wanda got up to leave, and Pietro couldn’t resist. 

He walked up to Janet and whispered, “Since you asked, we have sex every day, multiple times a day. And yeah, we do use kinky positions and our powers on a regular basis. No, we don’t call each other brother and sister in bed. And yeah, we’re gonna go fuck as soon as we get home. Just think about that when you go to bed tonight.”

Pietro walked away with Janet bright red and flustered, and Wanda back to staring in horror. 

On the drive home, Steve didn’t say a word beyond, “I’m never putting you back on television.”

“You didn’t like my ethics lesson?” Pietro joked.

Wanda leaned onto him like usual, but she didn’t speak on the ride home either.

The Avengers laughed, Tony actually cheering as the two of them walked in.

“I have never seen a bigger troll on an ensemble talk show since Russell Brand on ‘Morning Joe,’” Tony said.

Pietro winked as he and Wanda moved to their room.

Wanda closed the door behind them, but still didn’t talk.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” Pietro said. “I just—I couldn’t stand the way they were phrasing those questions. I had to get our full viewpoint out there. I shouldn’t have—”

Wanda stopped his words with a kiss.

“I never said there was anything wrong with what you did.” Wanda ran a thumb along Pietro’s jawline. “Did I tell you that you look gorgeous with the cleaned up look?”

Pietro smiled. “You look beautiful as well.”

“I heard every word you said to Jessica, by the way.” Whoa, so off on that one. Wanda leaned in, her breath tickling his ear. “Is it bad that I’m gonna be thinking of Jessica's face when I fuck your brains out?”

Pietro grinned. “I’m not here to discuss the ethics on that one.”

Chapter Text

Wanda kissed his neck, millimeters from the spot that drove him wild. “Good ‘cause I can’t get the way you fucked those bigoted idiots’ minds tonight out of my head.”

He wrapped his arms around her, rocked her as he held her tight. God, he loved her, his brain was abuzz thinking of how damn hot she was acting, yet so completely and utterly mush in her arms. 

He dropped them down onto the bed, shook out of shoes, slipped hers off. 

“I just love the way you say ‘fuck,’” he mumbled.

Mouths molded back together, his hands running from her hand down the length of her dress, never quite moving to pull that zipper down. 

He smirked. “You can predict the future, right?”

Wanda smirked right back. “Uh-huh.”

She guided his hands to her zipper, and it came down in one swift pull. She was wearing the soft, lacy panties. White as an angel. He ripped her bra off, but left his fingers to trace patterns in that lace, wait for her to buck and soak that pretty fabric through. 

“What’s Janet gonna be doing tonight?”

She laughed a little, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. “I think you actually called her Janet at one point, and I don’t think she noticed.”

They kissed. “Good.”

Wanda pulled his button down off, impatient as she lifted it off over his head. With the whole of her fingers, she trailed her touch from his pecs down to just above the the bulge fighting against his boxers and pants.

“But, what’s she gonna be doing?” Pietro asked.

Wanda smiled. “What do you think she’ll be doing?”

Pietro thumbed the seat of those soft panties. “Help me out here.”

He pressed deeper, played with her clit, the fabric the only thing keeping skin from skin. Wanda moaned. 

“I think something like that,” he said.

She grabbed his wrist with one hand, pulled down half her panties with the other.

He refused. “You first.”

They pulled off each other’s underwear together. He climbed on top of her. 

“I love you,” he said as he slid in.

“I love you too.” She smirked. “Brother.”

A shiver ran from his fingertips and toes all straight to his cock. He really didn’t need her saying it a lot, but thinking of stupid fucking Janet, he bet she thought they did. So, fine, he’d play along. He’d be the one getting the orgasm.

“Everything ready to go, sis?” he asked as he slowly slid his cock in and out.

“Blow my mind.”

“This is for you, Janet,” Pietro said.

He gave the air the finger and thrust in deep. Wanda closed her eyes and moaned.

“God, why don’t you get mad more often?” Wanda sighed.

He hugged her closer. “Because I’m never mad when I’m with you.”

Pietro stopped thrusting. “You know what we should do?”

Wanda laughed. “God, no! Steve would kill us.” She ran a hand through his hair. “Even if it’d be kinda hot.”

He shrugged, pulled his phone off the nightstand. “It could be just for us.” He kissed her. “Remember what two siblings in love look like if anyone asks.”

Wanda smiled. “If that’s the case, let’s switch it up.”

Pietro pulled out and Wanda adjusted the phone before pressing, “record.” 

“Sit cross legged,” she said in Sokovian.

Whoa. Wanda never spoke Sokovian ever since they settled in America.

“Are we gonna speak Sokovian the whole time?” he asked as he got into position.

“We’re not gonna talk at all.”

Wanda settled into his lap, lowering herself onto his cock. She didn’t moan, sighed instead. Quiet, reserved, maybe even…mindful? He didn’t know. He wrapped his arms around her, but took a moment to take in every inch of his beautiful lady before he pressed their bodies together. Genitals up to bellies to chests, lips the last thing to connect. Wanda’s palms were warm against his neck, and nothing felt more natural than his fingers tangling into the hair on her nape, the other on the small of her back. 

They stopped kissing long enough to press their foreheads together. She smiled, clasped their hands together. 

“I love you,” she mouthed.

She started to rock, slow to bring their mouths back together as she gave him time to figure out what she was doing. It was all very visceral, alive, in this silence. She’d inhale, and he’d feel her muscles tighten around him, and she’d release with the exhale. He did as they’d been doing for all their lives—he followed her. Tighten and release. Inhale and exhale.

God, it felt unreal. Perfect. The most intimate they’d gotten since they first discovered each other’s bodies all those years ago. If Pietro had ever doubted the existence of souls before, there was no doubt in his mind then. If Wanda was red and he was blue, they were mixing one perfect purple soul between them, engulfing them with every contact of their skin. He felt her muscles that he usually never felt, the tiniest of vaginal muscles as they rocked, the twitches in her fingers and toes as she reached closer to climax. He wondered if she felt anything new, or if she always knew how his fingers would tremble with her, and the only time he could get it to stop on its own, without shame, was when they peaked together and as they lay together afterward.

Her breathing turned to panting, and he wasn’t sure at what point he was mimicking her and then started needing the short puffs the same way. He couldn’t help it. He moved his hands onto her hips, as if it’d help his insatiable desire to thrust into her deeper, have more of their skin touching. She bucked against him, wilder than every other movement. 

She broke their kiss to cum, a squeak of a sigh in his ears that she trailed out as she exhaled, drifting off into silence. He waited for the last pulse of her muscles to let himself go, moaning an urgent, humble message into her shoulder. God, they’d gone raw; they hadn’t gone raw in so long, despite Wanda having been on reliable birth control for months. He loved the feeling of his cum mixing with her slick. He wondered if she loved it as much as him. 

They stayed together for a moment, hugging each other, keeping each other close. 

When they pulled away, he tucked a bit of hair out of her face and said, “I still wanna send it to Janet.”

Wanda laughed, pushed him a little. “No.”

They fully separated, and Pietro picked his phone off the nightstand. The video was a fair seven minutes, the lighting was kinda shitty, and he had no idea if he’d ever be able to get off it in the future. 

“What do you think?” he asked Wanda.

“Put it on a flash drive but delete it from your phone. Tony likes going through everyone’s pictures looking for embarrassing ones to put in birthday slideshows.”

Seemed fair enough. He settled an arm around her and googled, “quicksilver and scarlet witch incest.” 

Pietro started laughing as soon as he saw the results.

“What?” Wanda said.

He pushed the phone in her face.

“‘Fifteen Times We Were All Wanda Maximoff During the Pythia Afternoon Daily’?” Wanda read.

Pietro pulled Wanda in closer, her expression still indignant as she scrolled through a play-by-play of the interview using gifs of Wanda’s facial expressions.

“I’m really glad I didn’t look at you the whole time or I think I would’ve burst out laughing and left the room.”

Wanda shook her head. “Fuck the media.”

Pietro shook his phone. “We can still release a sex tape.”

Wanda took the phone back. “Still no.”

Pietro shrugged, burst out into smiles. “At least the American public relates to you.”