double vision/kink bingo fill
Title: Double Vision
Pairing/Group: Tanaka Koki/Tanaka Koki
Rating/Warnings: NC-17-- sort of a handwaving sci-fi AU; dubious science and dubious consent
Word Count: 1960
Summary: Sometimes Koki gets bored.
Notes: This was written as my wildcard square for kink_bingo, and I chose mirrors and doubles to fill it in with. Brought to you in part by this and this.
(Feel free to write the sequel in which Junno comes back to find two Kokis, much to his delight, for me. >:3)
He wakes up cold. The walls are blank, white, and he feels wet. He can't move. He doesn't know where he is.
Koki screams, louder than he ever has before.
It echoes through the room, but no one ever bothers to check on him.
Something is poking at him, sharp and insistent. Koki's brow furrows, and he tries to ignore it. It will go away if he doesn't open his eyes.
At least, that's what he tells himself before a hand fists its way into his hair and yanks.
Koki's eyes fly open, and he screams. That's all he's done, as long as he's been here. Wherever here is.
The hand is still in his hair when he closes his mouth, heart thundering in his chest. Koki looks up, surprised to see a man around his own age looking down at him through thick-rimmed glasses. He'd look nice if he didn't look like he'd smelled something awful. Koki wants to laugh at that thought, but he doesn't know what "laugh" means.
"You're really troublesome," the man mutters, mostly to himself. "I'd wonder why he even wants to keep you here, but I already know the depths of his depravity. Better you than me."
Koki doesn't say anything. He's pretty sure the man doesn't want to hear him. Instead he watches through his eyelashes as the man lets go of him in favor of releasing him. The man doesn’t help him sit up; Koki struggles against his own buoyancy and his lack of movement. He almost falls out of his holding tank, but catches himself at the last second.
Glasses puffs his chest out a bit as he actually speaks to Koki. “Follow me.” He stalks away from Koki, one hand rising to a blank spot of wall that slides open. The hallway it leads to is dark and forbidding, and Koki hurries as best he can so he doesn’t get left behind. Both of them are silent as Glasses leads the way.
Koki nearly runs into him when he stops, holding an arm out. “You need to be a little more presentable. This way.”
They make a sharp right, into another blinding room. Glasses opens a door and pulls out a towel; he thrusts it toward Koki and continues to open drawers. Koki dries his chest and arms off, feeling the chill finally. He slings the towel around his shoulders before peeling his pants off. They’re starting to cling uncomfortably. He steps away from the sodden pile and finishes toweling off; Koki ties the towel at his waist and notices the glint off of a gemstone in his navel. Had he always had that?
Glasses has stopped rummaging, and he carelessly thrusts more clothes at Koki. White pants, again, and a thin shirt. At least they’re dry. He doesn’t get anything else, and he simply stands there holding the bundle until Glasses makes an impatient noise in the back of his throat.
“He’s waiting,” Glasses snaps, and Koki scrambles to get dressed. Once he’s done, Glasses brushes past him without a word, and Koki trots along after him. These halls are dark, too, and winding. Koki feels as if he’s being led in circles, useless steps to confuse him. As if he weren’t already confused.
The halls finally end; they lead to an imposing door that slides open only when Glasses gets right up to it. The room beyond is mostly dark; the only illumination seems to come from the banks of monitors and the control panel beneath them, as well as what looks to be flickering ropes of light along the ceiling. The monitors all show what must have been Koki’s tank; he can’t keep from shivering at the images of dark water.
“Took you long enough, Yucchi.” Koki jumps; he didn’t know anyone else was in the room. The chair in front of the monitors swivels around, and the man belonging to the voice smirks at them. His cap is perched on his head at a jaunty angle, one leg crossed over the other. “Come here, then, let me see you.” He lazily beckons for Koki to cross the room.
Glasses, or rather, Yucchi, shoves him forward. Koki stumbles for the first couple of steps, but manages to stay upright. He stops a few steps away; this man in his shiny boots and stiff military jacket sort of frightens him.
“Come, now, poppet, nothing to be scared of.”
Koki chews his lip and closes the distance, trying his best not to visibly shiver at how cold the man’s hands are. He remains quiet as the man starts talking, rapidfire and mostly to Yucchi.
“That didn’t take so long, Yucchi. You’ve done well.”
“Of course, sir. This was the only project you allowed me to work on, if you recall.”
Something about they way they’re talking makes Koki think they’re talking about him. Surely they aren’t; to make sure he clears his throat. “D-do you happen to be discussing me?”
“Of course,” the military man says. “You’re a copy of me. Though, Yucchi did make a few changes. The details are dull, really.” Koki tries to pull away then, but his original (does that make him a clone?) clamps his hands down around his wrists. It hurts, and Koki steps closer in an attempt to gain some mercy.
That seems to appease him, and he’s rewarded with a real, proper smile. He doesn’t look as cruel that way, and Koki finds himself smiling back. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see that Yucchi is still as grouchy as he’d been when he first woke Koki up.
“Now, you’re my clone; you’re exactly the same as me-- we even have the same name. However, poppet, you won’t ever call me by it. Stick to ‘sir.’ Understood?”
Koki nods.
“Good, you clever thing. That means I can call you whatever I want; Koki, poppet, insufferable trash, if you’ve angered me. You won’t be doing that, though, will you?”
Something about the way he says it chills Koki, and he’s unable to control a shiver as he shakes his head. “No, sir, I won’t,” Koki mumbles; this question had seemed to need a verbal answer.
“That’s settled, then. I’ve been waiting so very long, and now that I’ve got you, let’s have some fun.” His original stands, one hand still wrapped around his wrist, and he pulls Koki across the room and to another door. “Yucchi, good work. Sure you don’t want to join us?”
Yucchi is firm as he practically shouts, “No!” from where he’s standing over the monitor controls. Koki would laugh, but he isn’t sure that would be okay.
Instead, Koki focuses on staying close to his original. He’s got an idea of what he wants, but Koki waits until he’s actually told. The halls they’re in are just as dark as the earlier ones, though they’re painted red instead of being shiny and dark. This must be the way to his original’s private quarters.
The hallway ends with another imposing door. It’s got an actual lock on it, and Koki’s wrist is dropped in favor of pawing through pockets for the key. Once that’s done, though, his original pushes the door open and takes his wrist again. Koki follows, gasping when he sees the room.
The first thing Koki notices is the huge bed shoved into one corner. Then he notices the entire wall of mirrors that it’s against. He’s practically dragged to it, and Koki gasps when he sees himself next to his original. They are exactly the same. The same dark hair, the same brown eyes and full lips. When Koki looks at his original’s reflection, he’s nearly taken aback by his wicked smirk.
“Come now, let’s get you out of these things.” His original doesn’t wait for Koki to give permission; he simply hooks cool fingers in the hem of his shirt and drags it up and over Koki’s head. Koki’s pants fall to the floor shortly; he’s too busy staring at the mirror.
Koki jumps when his original flings his cap across the room and slides between him and the mirror. “You should help me, you know,” the other murmurs, voice taking on a dangerous edge. That’s all the motivation Koki needs to raise his hands to the shiny brass buttons holding his original’s jacket closed.
Once Koki’s finished with the jacket’s buttons, his original shrugs out of it, carelessly dropping it. Koki loosens his tie and unbuttons the stiff black shirt, marveling at the smooth expanse of skin just like his own, save for the metal that’s only in his navel. Maybe that was one of the things Yucchi had added. Koki shivers as he pushes that thought from his mind.
He has help for the belt and buttons on the trousers, but before he gets very far Koki is shoved to his knees. He’s bewildered for a moment, and a little frightened until he sees the zippers on his original’s boots. Koki undoes them, and he’s allowed back up.
“I can take care of all this, poppet. On the bed now, and face the mirror.”
Koki practically scrambles for it, propping his head on his arm. There are plenty of pillows, but he’s not sure if he can just take one. He watches his reflection, curled in on himself; when the bed dips behind him, he stretches out. His original is still just as imposing without the uniform.
“Up, on your knees. Keep facing the mirror.”
Koki follows instructions, sucking in a breath when his original closes in on him. They’re pressed together back to front, and Koki can feel that his original is hard. He gasps when the other hooks his chin over his shoulder.
“Look at us, poppet.”
He raises his head and looks. Koki sees the same face; the same hands as his, except for jewelry, wrap around his torso and hold him upright. One of those hands drags fingernails up the middle of Koki’s chest and tweaks his nipples. Koki gasps and his original chuckles against the side of his neck.
“You like it, just as much as I do. Just keep watching.”
Koki barely nods, the breath against his neck tickling him. His original slides his hand back down Koki’s front; this time he goes straight for Koki’s burgeoning erection. His touch is rough and dry, and Koki moans. It’s hard for him to stay upright between the friction from both sides; his original is shamelessly rubbing against his ass.
“That’s it,” Koki’s original murmurs against the shell of his ear. “Got lonely, you know, and Yucchi doesn’t like to play that often. My second has been gone on a mission for so long now. That’s how you came into being. Yucchi likes the being god sort of playing much better than this sort.”
By now Koki can barely concentrate on what’s being said to him. All he can think of is the hand on him, on there being two of him, and the mirror in front of them. He doesn’t get a chance to warn that he’s close; his eyes flutter shut and he digs his fingers into his original’s arm as he stills.
There’s a moment of silence before his original lets go of him, and Koki blinks his eyes open slowly. He’s expecting outright anger from his original, but when their eyes meet in the mirror, Koki is surprised to see amusement written on the other’s face.
“There’s still so much more breaking in to be done, poppet.” His original lowers him to the pile of pillows next to them, and then holds his hand to his lips. “Clean up your mess.”
Pairing/Group: Tanaka Koki/Tanaka Koki
Rating/Warnings: NC-17-- sort of a handwaving sci-fi AU; dubious science and dubious consent
Word Count: 1960
Summary: Sometimes Koki gets bored.
Notes: This was written as my wildcard square for kink_bingo, and I chose mirrors and doubles to fill it in with. Brought to you in part by this and this.
(Feel free to write the sequel in which Junno comes back to find two Kokis, much to his delight, for me. >:3)
He wakes up cold. The walls are blank, white, and he feels wet. He can't move. He doesn't know where he is.
Koki screams, louder than he ever has before.
It echoes through the room, but no one ever bothers to check on him.
Something is poking at him, sharp and insistent. Koki's brow furrows, and he tries to ignore it. It will go away if he doesn't open his eyes.
At least, that's what he tells himself before a hand fists its way into his hair and yanks.
Koki's eyes fly open, and he screams. That's all he's done, as long as he's been here. Wherever here is.
The hand is still in his hair when he closes his mouth, heart thundering in his chest. Koki looks up, surprised to see a man around his own age looking down at him through thick-rimmed glasses. He'd look nice if he didn't look like he'd smelled something awful. Koki wants to laugh at that thought, but he doesn't know what "laugh" means.
"You're really troublesome," the man mutters, mostly to himself. "I'd wonder why he even wants to keep you here, but I already know the depths of his depravity. Better you than me."
Koki doesn't say anything. He's pretty sure the man doesn't want to hear him. Instead he watches through his eyelashes as the man lets go of him in favor of releasing him. The man doesn’t help him sit up; Koki struggles against his own buoyancy and his lack of movement. He almost falls out of his holding tank, but catches himself at the last second.
Glasses puffs his chest out a bit as he actually speaks to Koki. “Follow me.” He stalks away from Koki, one hand rising to a blank spot of wall that slides open. The hallway it leads to is dark and forbidding, and Koki hurries as best he can so he doesn’t get left behind. Both of them are silent as Glasses leads the way.
Koki nearly runs into him when he stops, holding an arm out. “You need to be a little more presentable. This way.”
They make a sharp right, into another blinding room. Glasses opens a door and pulls out a towel; he thrusts it toward Koki and continues to open drawers. Koki dries his chest and arms off, feeling the chill finally. He slings the towel around his shoulders before peeling his pants off. They’re starting to cling uncomfortably. He steps away from the sodden pile and finishes toweling off; Koki ties the towel at his waist and notices the glint off of a gemstone in his navel. Had he always had that?
Glasses has stopped rummaging, and he carelessly thrusts more clothes at Koki. White pants, again, and a thin shirt. At least they’re dry. He doesn’t get anything else, and he simply stands there holding the bundle until Glasses makes an impatient noise in the back of his throat.
“He’s waiting,” Glasses snaps, and Koki scrambles to get dressed. Once he’s done, Glasses brushes past him without a word, and Koki trots along after him. These halls are dark, too, and winding. Koki feels as if he’s being led in circles, useless steps to confuse him. As if he weren’t already confused.
The halls finally end; they lead to an imposing door that slides open only when Glasses gets right up to it. The room beyond is mostly dark; the only illumination seems to come from the banks of monitors and the control panel beneath them, as well as what looks to be flickering ropes of light along the ceiling. The monitors all show what must have been Koki’s tank; he can’t keep from shivering at the images of dark water.
“Took you long enough, Yucchi.” Koki jumps; he didn’t know anyone else was in the room. The chair in front of the monitors swivels around, and the man belonging to the voice smirks at them. His cap is perched on his head at a jaunty angle, one leg crossed over the other. “Come here, then, let me see you.” He lazily beckons for Koki to cross the room.
Glasses, or rather, Yucchi, shoves him forward. Koki stumbles for the first couple of steps, but manages to stay upright. He stops a few steps away; this man in his shiny boots and stiff military jacket sort of frightens him.
“Come, now, poppet, nothing to be scared of.”
Koki chews his lip and closes the distance, trying his best not to visibly shiver at how cold the man’s hands are. He remains quiet as the man starts talking, rapidfire and mostly to Yucchi.
“That didn’t take so long, Yucchi. You’ve done well.”
“Of course, sir. This was the only project you allowed me to work on, if you recall.”
Something about they way they’re talking makes Koki think they’re talking about him. Surely they aren’t; to make sure he clears his throat. “D-do you happen to be discussing me?”
“Of course,” the military man says. “You’re a copy of me. Though, Yucchi did make a few changes. The details are dull, really.” Koki tries to pull away then, but his original (does that make him a clone?) clamps his hands down around his wrists. It hurts, and Koki steps closer in an attempt to gain some mercy.
That seems to appease him, and he’s rewarded with a real, proper smile. He doesn’t look as cruel that way, and Koki finds himself smiling back. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see that Yucchi is still as grouchy as he’d been when he first woke Koki up.
“Now, you’re my clone; you’re exactly the same as me-- we even have the same name. However, poppet, you won’t ever call me by it. Stick to ‘sir.’ Understood?”
Koki nods.
“Good, you clever thing. That means I can call you whatever I want; Koki, poppet, insufferable trash, if you’ve angered me. You won’t be doing that, though, will you?”
Something about the way he says it chills Koki, and he’s unable to control a shiver as he shakes his head. “No, sir, I won’t,” Koki mumbles; this question had seemed to need a verbal answer.
“That’s settled, then. I’ve been waiting so very long, and now that I’ve got you, let’s have some fun.” His original stands, one hand still wrapped around his wrist, and he pulls Koki across the room and to another door. “Yucchi, good work. Sure you don’t want to join us?”
Yucchi is firm as he practically shouts, “No!” from where he’s standing over the monitor controls. Koki would laugh, but he isn’t sure that would be okay.
Instead, Koki focuses on staying close to his original. He’s got an idea of what he wants, but Koki waits until he’s actually told. The halls they’re in are just as dark as the earlier ones, though they’re painted red instead of being shiny and dark. This must be the way to his original’s private quarters.
The hallway ends with another imposing door. It’s got an actual lock on it, and Koki’s wrist is dropped in favor of pawing through pockets for the key. Once that’s done, though, his original pushes the door open and takes his wrist again. Koki follows, gasping when he sees the room.
The first thing Koki notices is the huge bed shoved into one corner. Then he notices the entire wall of mirrors that it’s against. He’s practically dragged to it, and Koki gasps when he sees himself next to his original. They are exactly the same. The same dark hair, the same brown eyes and full lips. When Koki looks at his original’s reflection, he’s nearly taken aback by his wicked smirk.
“Come now, let’s get you out of these things.” His original doesn’t wait for Koki to give permission; he simply hooks cool fingers in the hem of his shirt and drags it up and over Koki’s head. Koki’s pants fall to the floor shortly; he’s too busy staring at the mirror.
Koki jumps when his original flings his cap across the room and slides between him and the mirror. “You should help me, you know,” the other murmurs, voice taking on a dangerous edge. That’s all the motivation Koki needs to raise his hands to the shiny brass buttons holding his original’s jacket closed.
Once Koki’s finished with the jacket’s buttons, his original shrugs out of it, carelessly dropping it. Koki loosens his tie and unbuttons the stiff black shirt, marveling at the smooth expanse of skin just like his own, save for the metal that’s only in his navel. Maybe that was one of the things Yucchi had added. Koki shivers as he pushes that thought from his mind.
He has help for the belt and buttons on the trousers, but before he gets very far Koki is shoved to his knees. He’s bewildered for a moment, and a little frightened until he sees the zippers on his original’s boots. Koki undoes them, and he’s allowed back up.
“I can take care of all this, poppet. On the bed now, and face the mirror.”
Koki practically scrambles for it, propping his head on his arm. There are plenty of pillows, but he’s not sure if he can just take one. He watches his reflection, curled in on himself; when the bed dips behind him, he stretches out. His original is still just as imposing without the uniform.
“Up, on your knees. Keep facing the mirror.”
Koki follows instructions, sucking in a breath when his original closes in on him. They’re pressed together back to front, and Koki can feel that his original is hard. He gasps when the other hooks his chin over his shoulder.
“Look at us, poppet.”
He raises his head and looks. Koki sees the same face; the same hands as his, except for jewelry, wrap around his torso and hold him upright. One of those hands drags fingernails up the middle of Koki’s chest and tweaks his nipples. Koki gasps and his original chuckles against the side of his neck.
“You like it, just as much as I do. Just keep watching.”
Koki barely nods, the breath against his neck tickling him. His original slides his hand back down Koki’s front; this time he goes straight for Koki’s burgeoning erection. His touch is rough and dry, and Koki moans. It’s hard for him to stay upright between the friction from both sides; his original is shamelessly rubbing against his ass.
“That’s it,” Koki’s original murmurs against the shell of his ear. “Got lonely, you know, and Yucchi doesn’t like to play that often. My second has been gone on a mission for so long now. That’s how you came into being. Yucchi likes the being god sort of playing much better than this sort.”
By now Koki can barely concentrate on what’s being said to him. All he can think of is the hand on him, on there being two of him, and the mirror in front of them. He doesn’t get a chance to warn that he’s close; his eyes flutter shut and he digs his fingers into his original’s arm as he stills.
There’s a moment of silence before his original lets go of him, and Koki blinks his eyes open slowly. He’s expecting outright anger from his original, but when their eyes meet in the mirror, Koki is surprised to see amusement written on the other’s face.
“There’s still so much more breaking in to be done, poppet.” His original lowers him to the pile of pillows next to them, and then holds his hand to his lips. “Clean up your mess.”