Chapter Text
Ever since the day you were born, you and your twin had always been joined at the hip, so to speak.
Ever since birth, you and your brother had always been one of those people who, even with the differences in personality and opinions, even with the occasional fights and misunderstandings, just fitted together like a two-piece puzzle. Even through all the trials and tribulations that threatened to separate you from each other, the two of you had always been a constant in each other’s lives, a duo that did almost everything together, that took care of each other, nurturing a bond that could seemingly never be broken, no matter what.
Whether young or old, blood-related or not, this kind of familial bond was a precious gift that should be encouraged and appreciated, something that every sibling should aspire to have with one another, something to be protected and treasured until the very end.
However, what very few people seem to realize is that this kind of bond could not only be easily broken under certain circumstances, but also turn into something much more… ominous. Something that was generally forbidden and silenced, never to be brought up or acknowledged whatsoever because of how immoral and despised it was.
It was this kind of bond, that kind of unconditional platonic love for one another, that had led to the situation you were in right now. That had led to a life of lies and secrecy, of avoiding physical contact with him, of unwanted feelings that persisted and festered like a parasite living off the guilt and shame haunting your mind, further dividing your rationality and morality from the sinful thoughts you shouldn’t be having about him.
It was this once pure and innocent kind of bond that led to you thinking of Mario as more than just a brother, as more than just family.
Because to you, he was your world. Your everything.
“Ey bro, You listenin’?”
You jerked your head up in surprise, blinking your weary eyes in confusion as you looked down at your brother leaning against the couch on the floor, his heavy-lidded gaze watching you with a dopey grin on his face as he clumsily tried not to spill the drink in his hand on the floor.
“You’ve been drinkin’ too much bro, you’re totally spacin’ out on me.” He slurred out, giggling at nothing as he tilted up his head to swallow the rest of the liquid, grimacing slightly at the tangy flavor.
You snorted at the irony of that comment, glaring at the half-empty glass in your cupped hands as if it was to blame for your inattentiveness… technically, it was partially at fault.
“Says Mr. Sleepygiggles over there.” You mumbled smugly on the couch, loud enough for him to turn around with a weird look you could only presume was meant to mimic one of annoyance. It was hard to tell with that goofy smile still plastered on his face as if it was stuck there permanently.
You gulped down what was left in the glass as you mulled over the recent events of the day.
Today had been one of those “Bowser kidnaps Princess Peach” days that resulted with you taking care of the homefront, while Mario took on the adventure and succeeded in his quest to rescue the princess and defeat the villain like he always did. Though that certainly didn’t stop you from worrying about him, like you always did when you were left home to wait for his return. In worse cases with lots of wounds to be treated, leaving himself fully in your care, so vulnerable and exposed to your touch, but completely care-free in your presence, so assured that he could trust you with anything…
You shook your head, a pointless act of trying to rid yourself of those intrusive thoughts, but it only served to make yourself dizzy, opting to close your eyes and take a deep breath instead.
Don’t think about him that way.
Like all those other days, the princess and her people had of course arranged a celebration party for everyone to join, eating cake, dancing, all that good stuff. You just went there to support your bro, even if he most of the time was busy being praised by everyone, especially by Peach.
You knew that seeing your brother and the princess together was only going to sour your mood if you stayed, even if you were happy for Mario’s newfound happiness with her. But you kept convincing yourself that you weren’t jealous, that you didn’t feel dejected over your brother crush, because that would be disgustingly selfish of you. Because that would only further affirm the horrible truth you desperately tried to ignore and keep hidden for his sake.
He really did deserve someone as fair and kind as her. It was bewildering that he still hadn’t confessed to her yet, as if he didn’t have the courage to do it. As if he was afraid that he would be rejected…
Somehow, a part of you couldn’t help but feel relieved over his apparent hesitation, finding solace in the fact that they weren’t official, that maybe he would never take the chance to tell her, that maybe Peach would find somebody else-
You stopped, the familiar wave of guilt and shame that would accompany such selfish thoughts being concerningly less overwhelming than usual this time around. You hoped that was just the alcohol dulling your senses.
Speaking of alcohol, said beverage was served at the party for those old enough to drink it, and that’s where you spent most of your time at; drinking your problems away like an alcoholic. Luckily, you were quite the heavyweight, and you didn’t drink on a regular basis anyways, so you could drink with ease. It did help calming down your nerves significantly, which was always welcoming.
Sometime early that evening, your brother had suddenly walked up to you and told you he wanted to go home earlier than usual, the smell of his breath and the way his eyes were glazed over revealing to you that he had been drinking too.
He was only a bit tipsy though, and the both of you knew from previous experiences that Mario was a lightweight drinker who could easily get smashed just from one or two drinks, so he was always careful with the alcohol consumption.
But despite that fact in mind, when the two of you had entered your home after Mario apologized to everyone for leaving so early, he suddenly decided that the two of you should spend some time together before going off to bed, rummaging through the kitchen cupboards to present a bottle of liquor and two glasses to share.
Normally, it would’ve shocked you to see him make such an unexpected and bizarre action, as he never encouraged to drink more than you could handle. But at that point, after consuming who-knows-how-many drinks and for once feeling like you didn’t have to worry about anything, like the world around you were of minor importance and consequences could be damned for all you cared, you gave in to the temptation of another drink, to the promise of absolute peace of mind for just a bit longer.
It didn’t take long before you both were absolutely wasted in the living room, any kind of responsibility thrown out the window the moment Mario opened the bottle and started spouting out horrible puns and jokes like a broken record. Your combined laughter only roused him even further until he was finally out of breath, his body having glide off the couch down to the floor by the time he finally composed himself somewhat, except for the occasional hiccup and giggle.
After that you just talked about random stuff that came to mind. Or rather, your brother did most of the talking, while you completely spaced out and felt those intrusive thoughts returning once more.
Another drink should do the trick.
“I ain’t drunk…” He replied grumpily, proving it hard to take his refute seriously with that lopsided grimace and liquid-stained mustache. He tilted the glass towards his mouth before slowly lowering it again, blankly staring at the empty insides for a moment before giggles of realization struck him.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculous display, finding too much amusement in your brother’s drunken state and the way his grin stretched and chortled like a sugar-high child.
It was moments like these where you would usually reprimand yourself for thinking the word “cute” when associated with Mario. But it was becoming increasingly harder to think the right thoughts the more drinks you took. It was hard to care at all, really.
Is it weird to call your own brother cute?
“What was I talkin’ bout again?” He asked himself. Or maybe he was asking you. You weren’t sure.
His facial expression scrunched up in deep thought as he bunglingly reached for the nearly emptied bottle to fill another shot, saving the rest of the beverage for you as he passed it over with swaying difficulty.
You languidly accepted it, seizing the blessing of oblivion as you drank it straight-up instead of re-filling your glass tossed to the side.
“Oh, right.” He eventually drawled out, subsequently finishing his last hootch for the night before addressing you. “We were talkin’ princesses here.”
You peered at him confusedly, trying to recall when that conversation had commenced. But all you could draw up were images of your brother getting a thank-you kiss on the cheek from Peach after a successful rescue mission.
What would a kiss on the cheek from your brother feel like?
“We were?” You asked dumbly, and for some unexplainable reason, those vile thoughts and images didn’t bother you nearly as much as it usually did. As it should’ve.
“Sure we did.” Your brother suddenly snickered with a mischievous look in his eyes, and that certainly didn’t help assuaging your depraved state of mind. “About how you totally have a crush on Daisy~”
You flinched, an agitated part of you wishing that people would stop making such assumptions about you two. Even if it did aid in covering your abhorrent secret from everyone.
Everybody keeps thinking that you and Daisy have feelings for each other, and that you were just too much of a coward to ask her out. Whether that was true on her part, you had no clue, but boy were they wrong about the green-clad plumber’s true love interests.
So were your brother. So naïve.
“I’m not in love with her.” You dead-panned without thinking, hoping that he wouldn’t pursue the subject. You lifted the bottle towards your mouth before realizing that it was already empty, glaring at it like it had personally offended you. You were really itching for some more analeptic serenity.
Mario just stared at you silently with an indescribable expression on his face, until he abruptly guffawed and fell on his side in disbelief, as if he didn’t notice or simply ignored the way you had rudely delivered your answer.
“Aw, c’mon Weege, no need to be embarrassed.” He kept chortling, taking a ridiculous amount of effort just to crawl onto the couch and make himself comfortable beside you.
“You can be honest with me bro, I won’t tell anyone~” He singsonged teasingly, trying to lay his arm over your shoulders as a friendly gesture, like he always does. It was just platonic, physical affection and nothing more.
But your brain always twisted those innocent acts into something else completely.
When did it start feeling so nice to be touched by him?
“I’m not interested in Daisy.” You continued monotonously, ignoring the physical contact, not wanting to care about it. “I never was.”
Another short silence followed, your brother staring at you with the same indescribable expression before the truth finally seemed to settle in. He leaned forward and tried to catch eye-contact with you, his face awfully close to yours.
The alcohol really makes him blush a lot.
“Whu-, really?” He eventually asked in his drunken voice, looking totally stunned by the revelation. “…You serious?”
You sighed heavily, urging yourself not to imagine what it must feel like to kiss him with your mustaches in the way, wanting the conversation to end and your thoughts to leave you alone like the alcohol promised.
You’ll need something stronger next time. The drinks served around here are too weak.
“Yes, I’m serious.” You grumbled, not intending to sound so rude towards him, but it was hard to even care at this point when your mind just wouldn’t cooperate with you.
You want him to leave you alone, but at the same time, you want him to stay, to give you those comforting hugs, to stroke your hair and tell you how much he loves you…
“Ey, why are ya’ mad at me for? I was just askin’…” He scolded lightly, but it was obvious that he wasn’t offended by your behavior. Instead he looked rather concerned, the drunk-looking grin once present now a downward frown. He continued to lean forward and squinted his eyes at your face, presumably trying to read your expression, searching for answers hidden too deep for anyone to see.
Even though he’s been drinking so much, he still smells good.
“You’re actin’ weird.” He continues, and normally you would’ve chuckled at the hypocrisy of that statement, jokingly making a smug retort and watch his amused reaction to your wits.
But this time wasn’t normally. This time was different. This time was obtrusive, incestuous thoughts paired with frustration and apathy, conflictions of needs and desires wanting the impossible, moralities being torn between rational thought and dreams of unattainable love.
You want him to understand how important he is to you, how he makes you blush with joy every time he praises you, how your heart skips a beat every time he tells you how much he cares about you, how he treats you with so much respect and acknowledges all your accomplishments, how cool he looks during those occasional battles you have together, how his opinions, his feelings and thoughts always matter to you, how much you treasure the incredibly close bond that you have-
“Bro… why are you avoidin’ me?”
He kept slurring and drawing out his words, his body clearly exhausted from digesting all that liquor, but in those unfocused eyes was a small glimmer of desperation you hadn’t noticed before, trying to meet your own jaded ones as he clumsily retracted his arm around your shoulders and placed his hands on each shoulder instead, forcing you to face him.
“Don’t pretend like ya don’ know what I’m talkin’ bout… You’ve been doin’ it for weeks, even months now.”
You trembled in apprehension, cursing yourself for not being more careful, for causing your brother to worry when he shouldn’t be.
He shouldn’t be caring about you as much as he does in the first place.
“Every time I ask ya’ if anythin’s wrong, you just keep pushing me away, tellin’ me you’re fine even though you’re not. I can tell you’re not fine…”
You clenched your eyes, fruitlessly trying to keep those damned vile thoughts and feelings for him at bay, but hearing Mario confessing his awareness of your reclusive behavior only fueled their persistence.
You just wanted to show him how much you loved him, to give him a passionate kiss of genuine admiration and appreciation for his existence, to hold him close, so close-
“I don’ get why you’re doin’ that. We always tell each other if somethin’s wrong, don’t we? We can trust each other with anythin’.”
But some part of you wanted him to continue, begging for the intimate attention and care that only he could bestow upon you, a craving you didn’t realize you had missed for so long.
You’re only going to ruin what’s left of that defiled bond of yours.
“I jus’… I jus’ want ya’ to know that, I’m here for you bro... You can tell me anythin’ and I won’t judge you for it.”
You almost wanted to laugh bitterly at that last sentence. But somehow you just couldn’t find the energy to care. Why bother?
Because you love him. You love him so much that it hurts.
“cause’ you’re my brother, Weegie…”
You knew he was going to say it, that it’s going to be purely out of platonic, brotherly love and nothing more. You knew this.
But that veracity wasn’t going to make the words any less painful to hear.
“An’ I love you.”
The following minute after hearing those bittersweet words went by in a rapid blur.
Everything around you became this colorful mismatch of immateriality, your mind only registering this sudden urge, this agonizing desperation to possess the forbidden love you had denied yourself for so long.
There was the sound of glass shattering on the floor, the image of Mario falling on his back against the couch cushions as you hovered over him, straddling him and gazing into his beautiful, cerulean eyes of shock and confusion.
But your mind didn’t even seem to care what was happening anymore, your brain shutting down as the body only followed its instincts, a lascivious proclivity to be close, closer and closer to him and only him.
You could hear him speak to you, or maybe he was yelling, uttering words your mind couldn’t decipher, the sentences only garbled noises to your ears.
There was the titillating sensation of lips clashing into each other, mustaches tickling your skin, the taste of fluids that didn’t belong to you, sounds of clothes shifting and muffled moans, exhilarating your perverted vitality that begged to be sated, that pleaded for this one opportunity of bliss after hiding all that loneliness and grief from the world.
You just wanted him to realize how much you truly loved him, to have that love validated and reciprocated, to confess your true love for each other, for him to-
Without warning, reality plummeted back with a scorching heat you never could’ve prepared for.
You barely registered the hand that had grabbed the lower part of your face in a vice grip, an excruciating hotness igniting your skin like it was being pressed against a flatiron, burning and splitting your lips apart as you could only let out a muted scream in response.
But just as fast as it came, it quickly ended, your mind faintly aware of your body falling from the couch and to the floor, your hands shielding your blistering wounds as you hissed and cried in bewildered agony.
But once you looked up from the floor towards him, the painful injuries you suffered from swiftly didn’t matter anymore. Not after witnessing the horrible sight you had caused.
Your brother’s outstretched arm trembled, small sparks of fire sputtering out of the palm of his hand until they finally died down. His clothes were disheveled, dungarees buckled off and shimmied down around his waist, shirt folded-up over his chest, exhaling deep and shaky breaths as traces of spit trickled down his chin.
His gaping eyes just stared at you with such unbridled shock, such intense fear that shouldn’t be there, not on his face, not on the one person who was so courageous, who didn’t fear anyone or anything.
Except now he did. He now had the one fear none of you would’ve ever expected, that never would’ve crossed your minds even for a second.
What have you done.
The horrifying realization was unbearable, punishing you with a choke hold as the culpability came crashing into you like a tidal wave, spiraling your mind out of control and heightening the senses of your scalding skin and lips, of the noticeable straining in your pants and the building tears of shame in your wide-open eyes.
What have you done.
No matter how much you wanted to deny it, to deny the heinous crime you had just committed and pretend that this was all just a dream, just a frightening nightmare constructed by your deranged sanity, the evidence was right there, clear as day for anyone to see the truth.
You just tried to rape him.
You just tried to rape your own brother-!
You quickly stumbled up on your feet, internally screaming at yourself to get out, get out, get out!, Your body finally cooperating with your orders as you managed to stagger off as fast as your wobbly legs could handle.
How could you do that to him, to your own brother, your twin, your very own flesh and blood!
You barely noticed Mario calling out for you as you finally reached the front door, yanking it open with all your might as you fled into the forested night, your panicked mind hell-bent on getting away from whatever was provoking this hysterical distress as far as possible.
After everything that he’s done for you, after taking care of you and supporting you for so many years, you’re just going to throw that all aside to violate him?! What is wrong with you?!
You don’t know how long you kept running, how much time went by or where you were even going. But you didn’t care.
He is afraid of you now! He never should’ve trusted you!
At some point, your body eventually collapsed from fatigue, ignoring the following pain erupting from the harsh fall as tears kept trailing down your cheeks in rivers.
He will hate you and disown you as a brother!
Your face hurts, the salty drops and the thick grass on the ground stinging your burns, your lips wet with warmness that tasted like iron.
You are horrible, disgusting, selfish filth!
You just realized that you didn’t put any shoes on. No wonder your socks felt so damp.
What are you going to do now?! There’s no way you will ever be forgiven for this! How could you possibly make things right again?!
It was getting increasingly harder to keep your eyes open. You’re so tired.
You messed it up. You messed it all up and there’s no way to fix it.
Everything was getting darker, your thoughts slowing down to a halt as you finally closed your eyes and let slumber take you away from this cruel reality.
There’s nothing you can do to fix this.
…
Then you might as well not exist for now.