Fic: Double Trouble
Title: Double Trouble
Word Count: 3819
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Chris actually has a twin named Rodolfo. Another one of those ‘Rodolfo helps Chris and Zach do something about their feelings for each other’ fics.
Warnings: Sorry, this not a threesome. Kinda cracky. PWP. Fluff. Mentions of adoption.
Disclaimer: LIES.
A/N: Happy birthday to therumjournals! :D Hope your day was awesome!
“You can’t go jogging in those jeans.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“Uhh...” Zach steps into Chris’ house, closing the door behind him.
He follows Chris into his living room. And stands. And waits. And crosses his arms, his hip swinging to one side, as Chris picks up a magazine, flops down in his couch, and props his boot-clad feet up on the coffee table -- the coffee table that Chris had been so anal about last week that he flapped his hands and snapped at Zach because he forgot to place his beer bottle on a fucking coaster.
“If you didn’t want to go jogging, you could’ve just texted me to let me know,” Zach said without disguising the bite of annoyance in his voice.
“Hey, sorry, I’m ready to go.”
At the sound of Chris’ voice from behind him, Zach whirls around so quickly he loses his balance. He grabs onto the wall and clutches it to steady himself before letting go to clutch at his chest. Chris, dressed in a white t-shirt and mesh shorts, bends down to tie his shoelaces and Zach can’t stop his eyes from darting back and forth between Chris and... Chris?
“What... why...” Zach trails off.
It’s possible he tied his headband on too tightly and it’s limiting circulation to his brain, or maybe he’s straight up hallucinating, because there are two Chrises.
“Oh, right,” Chris says. He stands up and gestures toward the couch. “Zach, this is my twin brother, Rodolfo. He’s visiting for a couple weeks. Rodolfo, this is my friend, Zach.”
Rodolfo looks up from the magazine and raises an eyebrow at him. “Nice to meet you, Zach.”
He knows he’s staring, wide-eyed, with his mouth hanging open just enough for it to look unflatteringly dopey, but Zach’s brain can’t catch up to what his eyes are seeing in front of him and what Chris just told him.
“Umm.” Zach turns to Chris. “Wait, wait, wait. Since when do you have a twin brother?”
“Since birth,” Rodolfo says with a smirk.
Zach narrows his eyes and decides Rodolfo’s already more irritating than Chris is on a bad day.
“What I meant is, how come you’ve never told me you had a twin?”
He doesn’t mean for it to sound as accusatory as it does, but part of Zach feels oddly betrayed because he never knew this fact about Chris. Sure, he didn’t know everything about him, but you’d think something like this would come up after four years of being good friends with someone.
“Uh, surprise?” Chris offers.
“I’m literally speechless.” Zach looks between them and shakes his head.
“Yeah, it’s not something I talk about often,” Chris says in a small voice, and Zach suspects there’s a lot more to this story.
“Oh I know who you are!” Rodolfo pipes up and walks around the coffee table. Zach jumps when he suddenly steps forward and takes both of Zach’s hands in his. Handsiness and lack of respect for personal space must be a genetic Pine thing. “You’re that actor friend! The one Chris did the movie about the space aliens with!”
Everything about the person standing in front of him is Chris: the blue eyes, the untamed eyebrows, the pink lips, the brown hair that has reddish highlights in the sun, the broad shoulders, the slim hips, and the strong hands that have touched him in every infuriatingly friendly and platonic way possible.
“Yes. The one with the space aliens. I’m that friend.”
Rodolfo’s smile gets wider, and it’s too much like Chris’, too uncanny, that Zach takes the tiniest of steps back, only to have Rodolfo squeeze his hands and pull him forward. Zach blinks rapidly, aware that the pair of familiar eyes are roaming hungrily over his body in a way he thinks they never have before. His mouth drops open when he feels Rodolfo rubbing the inside of his palms with his thumbs. Zach knows he’s blushing under his close scrutiny.
“Hey, Rodolfo, we’re going to go for a run. Are you meeting up with mom and dad for lunch?” Chris asks and not-so-subtly extracts Zach’s hands from Rodolfo’s.
“Yeah, I’m going head over to Gwen and Bob’s in a little while.” His eyes never leave Zach’s.
“Cool, see you later,” Chris says.
Rodolfo finally tears his eyes away from Zach and drops onto the couch, resting his boots up on the coffee table again.
“Don’t put your boots on that,” Chris whines and hurries back to shove his brother’s feet off.
“Whatever, just clean it later.”
“And don’t scuff up the floors with your boots.”
“Please be more annoying. Please tell me more of your house rules that I’m going to ignore as soon as you leave.”
“Fine,” Chris huffs. He grabs his keys, phone, sunglasses, and the hem of Zach’s shirt and leads them out the door.
They’re halfway down the block before Zach breaks the silence.
“So. You have a twin.”
With a heavy sigh, Chris runs his hand through his hair. “It’s kind of a complicated story. It’s not like, this shameful family secret, but it’s... we just don’t really talk about it. I wasn’t intentionally not telling you.”
Zach studies him. “I know,” he says softly.
“My aunt and uncle, so my mom’s twin sister and her husband, always really wanted a kid. They’d tried for years and nothing was working, and they were thinking of adopting, but then my mom found out she was pregnant with us -- twins.” Chris holds his hands out, fingers splayed, for emphasis. “It was like, some sort of sign to her and there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for my aunt. My dad was heartbroken at first, but he knew what it meant to my mom, so he agreed. They did this really crazy and selfless thing and gave one of their babies away.”
Zach waits and hears Chris take a deep breath before continuing.
“It’s not like we didn’t know about it all our lives. But yeah, so Rodolfo grew up with my aunt and uncle in Ecuador. They’re super rich and like royalty there. He’s the heir to some rose empire or something ridiculous like that.”
Zach bites his lip to keep from laughing. “He’s the Prince of Roses?”
“Yeah. God, you’ll never hear the end of it. He used to spend summers with us when we were little. It’s sort of like he’s my cousin and not really my brother. Anyway, I don’t think anyone has any regrets about the way things worked out. He doesn’t resent my parents or anything.”
“Are you the older twin?”
Chris smiles and nods. “By four minutes.”
“I can’t picture you as an older sibling.”
“Are you kidding? I’m totally the older and more responsible one!” he says defensively.
“Okay, sure," Zach laughs. "You two are identical, right?”
“No, fraternal,” Chris said.
“Get out. I don’t think I could tell you two apart.”
“Yeah, we’re like the Olsen twins. Except less trollish.”
“So weird,” Zach whispers.
They end up taking a walk instead of jogging. It’s just as well because he’s wearing shorts that don’t conceal much when something’s happening in his junk area, and seeing Chris sweaty and breathing heavily right after Rodolfo fondled his hands with unmistakable lust in his eyes would create a bit of a situation in his pants. And if there was anything Zach learned from cross-country, it was that running with a chubby was not fun.
It’s remarkable how vastly different their personalities are.
Zach had thought Chris was always moderately outgoing, talkative when he needed to be. All things are relative, though. They’re at lunch the next day and Rodolfo, dressed in a black sleeveless shirt and leather pants that seem inappropriate for a Tuesday afternoon, starts chatting up and flirting with a waitress that isn’t even working their section, when Zach’s gaze falls on Chris. He takes in the sight of him in black framed glasses, hair in mild disarray, cardigan misbuttoned, while sipping his water carefully but still managing to spill some down his chin.
And that’s when it hits Zach: Chris is the frump twin.
The pretty waitress giggles when Rodolfo tries to guess her favorite rose color and Chris rolls his eyes.
“Oh my god, are you guys twins?” she asks excitedly.
Rodolfo grins and leans forward in his chair. “Double your pleasure, double your fun,” he tells her.
She bites her lip and blushes wildly, eyelashes fluttering at Rodolfo. Meanwhile, Chris is actually hiding his face behind his hand in embarrassment, looking like he’s wishing his chair could swallow him up. Zach empathizes with Chris, but thinks this is the most entertainment he’s gotten in weeks. Eventually, the waitress twirls a lock of hair around her finger and reluctantly leaves after promising to come by again later.
“Do you ever stop?” Chris accuses his brother.
“Don’t be mad cause you’re boring.”
“Whatever,” he mutters.
Rodolfo turns to Zach. “It’s been like this since we were little.”
“Yeah, that much is true, you’ve been annoying me since the beginning of time,” Chris agrees.
“He’s jealous, you see, because I’m better looking and more charming.”
Zach cocks his head to the side and looks between them. “But you look the same. Like, exactly the same. I thought for a split second that maybe it was you who answered the door this morning,” he points to Rodolfo, “except then I saw crumbs of blueberry muffin on his shirt and figured it was Chris.”
“I’m not a messy eater,” Chris protests. “I’m just enthusiastic.”
With a dismissive wave of his hand, another Chris-like gesture, Rodolfo continues. “I can’t help that people gravitate toward me. I must have absorbed all the available charisma when we were in the womb.”
Chris sits up in his chair. “No, there’s people gravitating toward you, and then there’s you stealing my friends from me.”
“I’ve never stolen your friends.”
“You do it all the time,” Chris counters.
“Like when?” Rodolfo challenges.
Zach props his chin on his hands and watches with amusement. It was like Chris was arguing with himself. He wanted to videotape it. It was that awesome.
“Like that one summer when I used to ride bikes with Colin and then you showed up and he didn’t want to ride bikes with me anymore.”
“Please, Chris, it’s not like I purposely lured him away with my Transformers.”
“And Amanda Green--”
“Who I kissed because she was pretty and had this pathetic crush on you but you were too busy secretly reading Katie’s Sweet Valley Twins books to notice her,” Rodolfo pointed out.
“There are no books about boy twins!”
Rodolfo rolls his eyes. “And I bet you’re going to bring up--”
“Brian--”
“Yes, Brian, your first boyfriend, Brian--”
“Who dumped me because--”
Rodolfo put his hands up. “It’s not my fault you gave shitty blow jobs.”
With a heavy sigh, Chris slumps into his chair with a pout and crosses his arms.
“And now? What have I done since I showed up?” Rodolfo’s voice softens and he pokes at Chris’ shoulder affectionately. “Who have I stolen from you? That waitress?”
“No, that’s not... whatever,” Chris mumbles, and Zach doesn’t miss the way Chris’ eyes briefly flicker to him. “I need to take a piss.” He pushes his chair back and stands up.
“I should wash my hands,” Zach says and follows him.
They’re right outside the men’s room when Zach wraps his hand around Chris’ wrist. “Hey, you okay?”
Chris turns around and deflates. “Sorry you had to see that. We don’t fight all the time. We get along fine, but he’s just so obnoxious sometimes,” he says.
“Don’t apologize.” Zach shuffles them over to the wall so people can walk past them. “It’s what brothers are like.” His fingers reach out and fix Chris’ cardigan buttoning blunder.
“Thanks,” Chris says sheepishly.
Smiling, Zach nods and tips his head toward the bathroom door. “Hurry up, before he eats all the good breadsticks by the time you get back.”
Chris’ brother has been in town for a week and every time Zach’s seen him, Rodolfo flirts more shamelessly with him, even going so far as to card his fingers through Zach’s arm hairs. Usually, he has no complaints about receiving this kind of attention. There was a certain power to knowing he could elicit that kind of reaction from people. But this... It makes Zach more than a little uncomfortable because he’s not really interested in Rodolfo.
If it was Chris, he’d be all up on that in no time, but it’s not. It just someone who looks like him and has the same, perfect mix of body parts that protrude obscenely in all the right places. Rodolfo is like this hypersexualized version of Chris who knows exactly what to do with all those body parts and isn’t afraid of his own sex appeal or gets flustered about how to use it to his advantage.
And it’s starting to mess with Zach’s head because now he knows what naked want looks like on Chris, and fuck, if that doesn’t give him a reason to spend a few extra minutes in the shower every morning.
The worst part is that Rodolfo’s doing it on purpose. Zach doesn’t know why, but he sees him check to make sure Chris is always watching when he’s reaching over to pet Zach’s hair. For the past week, there’s been a heavy feeling of guilt in his chest whenever he catches a glimpse of Chris’ disapproving frown whenever Rodolfo’s in his space.
The three of them are supposed to be watching Lost, but Zach isn’t even sure what season they’re on because all he can focus on is the weight of Rodolfo’s stare on him. Rodolfo lick his lips suggestively at Zach, in complete contrast to the way Chris does it subconsciously and adorably all the time, and it all just seems so deliberate and wrong. Zach curls in on himself a little and spills the contents of his wine glass onto his shirt.
“Oops. Shit.”
Zach runs to the kitchen before he gets scolded for letting the drops fall onto Chris’ new plush couch. Grabbing the roll of paper towels, he wets a few sheets and begins dabbing at his shirt.
He hears someone come up from behind and suddenly feels them press their hips against his ass, pinning him to the marble countertop. Zach gasps and drops the damp paper towel.
“Let’s make one thing clear.” The voice is low and seductive, right in his ear. “I’m not the least bit interested in you.”
As Zach turns around to face him, Rodolfo makes no effort to step back, so they end up brushing the entire lengths of their bodies across each other.
“Then why are you flirting blggg--”
Zach gets interrupted when Rodolfo shoves two fingers in his mouth. “Shh. Keep your voice down. Look over my shoulder. Is Chris watching?”
Chris isn’t staring, but Zach can see that he’s peaking out of the corner of his eye. From his posture, Chris looks defeated and hurt, and there’s a part of Zach that wants to gather him up and hug him until he smiles again. But he looks from Chris to Rodolfo and nods before looking down.
“Unbutton your shirt.” Rodolfo takes his fingers out of Zach’s mouth. The confidence and command in his voice makes Zach’s cock twitch and he bites his lip from whimpering. Then he shakes his head to clear it.
“Excuse me?” It comes out as a screechy whisper.
Rodolfo gives him an exasperated look, identical to the look Chris gives him when Zach tells him he should buy a hybrid vehicle.
“We need to soak that.” He points to Zach’s shirt. “I’m trying to help you out here. He’s jealous. He’s so fucking jealous his nuts are about to explode.”
“Why would he be jealous?” Zach asks.
Another look. “Cause he’s in love with you, you idiot moron. And it’s truly annoying. If he’s going to talk about someone so much, he better be boning them. Why is your shirt still on?” he hisses.
Zach looks down and slowly begins to unbutton it, processing what Chris’ brother just told him. With a quick glance, he sees that Chris is most definitely watching them with an unreadable expression.
“I don’t understand why this is helping.” He can totally see Rodolfo’s nipples through his white t-shirt. Why do these boys only wear white t-shirts?
“Because. For whatever stupid reason, he’s made up his mind that you’re not attracted to him. Which is a complete lie cause I can tell you are. And we all know you’re compatible on the stubborn and boring level.”
“We’re not boring.”
“Really? You guys had a twenty minute conversation about Hillary Clinton today.”
“She’s had a remarkable career! I’m sorry we don’t talk about roses all the time!”
“Jesus, okay. My point is that I thought he’d make a move by now and stake his claim like a caveman after I’ve been throwing myself at you. But he’s not, and it’s fucking frustrating to watch you two dance around like you want to tear at each other's pants but don’t know how to just grow a pair and actually do it.”
Clearing his throat, Zach takes a quick look at Chris, who’s doing a poor job of trying to ignore that something very weird is going down in his kitchen.
Zach’s eyebrows furrow as he slips his shirt off. “I still don’t understand how--”
His question is cut off as Rodolfo smashes their mouths together. It’s entirely unexpected and unsexy and every muscle is his body is protesting and screaming that this is wrong; this isn’t the way it’s supposed to feel.
“Umm.”
Zach pushes Rodolfo off him and sees Chris standing there, bright red and sullen, as if someone kicked his puppy and he’s about to burst into tears.
“God, Zach, I told you! I’m Rodolfo! This,” Rodolfo slaps his brother on the shoulder, "is Chris." He looks back and forth between their confused expressions and grins. "Cool, well, I’m gonna go to out, get hit on at bar or something, so there’s no mistake over which twin Zach really wants to be with. Have fun!”
Rodolfo sashays out the door, grabbing his leather jacket along the way, and gives them both an exaggerated wink.
“Well, that was awkward,” Zach says.
“I’m sorry he assaulted you,” Chris says to the floor.
Zach chuckles. “I’ll get over it.”
Raising his eyes to look at Zach, Chris point to the wine-stained shirt in his hands. “Do you need to borrow a shirt?”
“Yeah, probably a good idea.”
Apparently, they were still avoiding the very obvious topic that Rodolfo had just handed to them on a silver platter. They’re halfway down the hall that leads to Chris’ bedroom when Zach grabs his arm. His mind is racing as he turns Chris around and studies him for a silent moment before he drops his shirt and his shaky hands come up to cup Chris’ face. Chris blinks twice in surprise, his mouth falling open just a tiny bit just as Zach smoothes a thumb over his cheek and guides Chris’ lips to his. They’re soft and welcoming, moving slowly against Zach’s, capturing his bottom lip before Chris gently nips at it with his teeth.
Zach gasps and threads his fingers through Chris’ hair. He pushes him to the wall, aligning their hips and shuffling his feet so he’s not stepping on Chris’. Zach tips Chris’ head to one side and kisses down his neck, his fingertips following and learning what the day-old stubble feels like on his heated skin.
There’s a slight echo as the hallway fills with moans and gasps of breath. Chris’ hands are smoothing over the skin of his back and shoulders, scratching lightly and pulling him closer. Zach arches into his touch and cants his hips forward.
“Fuck, Zach.”
They’re both still wearing jeans, but Chris throws his head back, hitting the wall, at the feel of their erections pressed together through their clothing. Zach kisses Chris again, the tip of his tongue licking at Chris’ swollen top lip and teasing it into his mouth while he inches his hips back just enough to worm a hand between them.
“I hate your button-fly,” Zach pants.
Abruptly, Chris shoves him away tears his shirt up over his head. They quickly pull their jeans and underwear off themselves before they’re reaching desperately for each other. Their bodies crash and Zach’s knees almost buckle when his swollen length bumps Chris’. He feels his back against the cool wall and grabs onto Chris’ shoulders, rolling his hips as Chris frantically rubs their cocks together.
His eyes slip shut at the sensation and his hand finds its way into Chris’ hair as he mouths at Zach’s collarbone. Zach brings Chris’ lips up to his again and spins them so Chris is pinned with his back to the wall. With his other hand, he grips Chris, squeezing lightly before stroking him. The obscenities that fly out of Chris’ mouth and against his neck drive him to pump harder, thumbing over the slit and spreading the moisture there around the head and down the shaft while thrusting his hips and rubbing the tip of his own erection into the trail of hair on Chris’ belly.
“Zach, I’m...”
He doesn’t finish his warning before his body goes rigid for a second, then shudders between Zach and the wall. Seeing Chris in this undone state, and feeling the evidence of Chris’ orgasm on his fingers, splashed on his aching cock and across both their stomachs, pushes Zach closer to the edge and with a few rapid strokes, he pulses and spills onto his already slick hand.
Chris wraps his arms around Zach, steadying him and maneuvering their spent bodies to the floor. The hallway falls silent except for the sound of their labored breathing.
Finally, Chris stands on wobbly legs and helps Zach to his feet. Leaning in, Zach attempts to steal another kiss and smiles against the corner of Chris' mouth.
“So... which twin are you?” he whispers.
Chris reels back with such force that Zach thinks he might have given himself a neck injury.
“I’m just kidding! Chris, come on, I know it was you.”
“So not funny.”
Zach pulls Chris back into his arms. “Let me make it up to you,” Zach says into the skin of his shoulder.
Chris raises an eyebrow at him. “Will you make it up to me naked? On your knees?”
“Only if you buy me roses,” he says seriously.
For a moment, Zach can tell he’s actually considering it. And then he bursts into laughter as Chris nudges him toward the nearest bathroom.
“I hate you. Both of you.”
Word Count: 3819
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Chris actually has a twin named Rodolfo. Another one of those ‘Rodolfo helps Chris and Zach do something about their feelings for each other’ fics.
Warnings: Sorry, this not a threesome. Kinda cracky. PWP. Fluff. Mentions of adoption.
Disclaimer: LIES.
A/N: Happy birthday to therumjournals! :D Hope your day was awesome!
“You can’t go jogging in those jeans.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“Uhh...” Zach steps into Chris’ house, closing the door behind him.
He follows Chris into his living room. And stands. And waits. And crosses his arms, his hip swinging to one side, as Chris picks up a magazine, flops down in his couch, and props his boot-clad feet up on the coffee table -- the coffee table that Chris had been so anal about last week that he flapped his hands and snapped at Zach because he forgot to place his beer bottle on a fucking coaster.
“If you didn’t want to go jogging, you could’ve just texted me to let me know,” Zach said without disguising the bite of annoyance in his voice.
“Hey, sorry, I’m ready to go.”
At the sound of Chris’ voice from behind him, Zach whirls around so quickly he loses his balance. He grabs onto the wall and clutches it to steady himself before letting go to clutch at his chest. Chris, dressed in a white t-shirt and mesh shorts, bends down to tie his shoelaces and Zach can’t stop his eyes from darting back and forth between Chris and... Chris?
“What... why...” Zach trails off.
It’s possible he tied his headband on too tightly and it’s limiting circulation to his brain, or maybe he’s straight up hallucinating, because there are two Chrises.
“Oh, right,” Chris says. He stands up and gestures toward the couch. “Zach, this is my twin brother, Rodolfo. He’s visiting for a couple weeks. Rodolfo, this is my friend, Zach.”
Rodolfo looks up from the magazine and raises an eyebrow at him. “Nice to meet you, Zach.”
He knows he’s staring, wide-eyed, with his mouth hanging open just enough for it to look unflatteringly dopey, but Zach’s brain can’t catch up to what his eyes are seeing in front of him and what Chris just told him.
“Umm.” Zach turns to Chris. “Wait, wait, wait. Since when do you have a twin brother?”
“Since birth,” Rodolfo says with a smirk.
Zach narrows his eyes and decides Rodolfo’s already more irritating than Chris is on a bad day.
“What I meant is, how come you’ve never told me you had a twin?”
He doesn’t mean for it to sound as accusatory as it does, but part of Zach feels oddly betrayed because he never knew this fact about Chris. Sure, he didn’t know everything about him, but you’d think something like this would come up after four years of being good friends with someone.
“Uh, surprise?” Chris offers.
“I’m literally speechless.” Zach looks between them and shakes his head.
“Yeah, it’s not something I talk about often,” Chris says in a small voice, and Zach suspects there’s a lot more to this story.
“Oh I know who you are!” Rodolfo pipes up and walks around the coffee table. Zach jumps when he suddenly steps forward and takes both of Zach’s hands in his. Handsiness and lack of respect for personal space must be a genetic Pine thing. “You’re that actor friend! The one Chris did the movie about the space aliens with!”
Everything about the person standing in front of him is Chris: the blue eyes, the untamed eyebrows, the pink lips, the brown hair that has reddish highlights in the sun, the broad shoulders, the slim hips, and the strong hands that have touched him in every infuriatingly friendly and platonic way possible.
“Yes. The one with the space aliens. I’m that friend.”
Rodolfo’s smile gets wider, and it’s too much like Chris’, too uncanny, that Zach takes the tiniest of steps back, only to have Rodolfo squeeze his hands and pull him forward. Zach blinks rapidly, aware that the pair of familiar eyes are roaming hungrily over his body in a way he thinks they never have before. His mouth drops open when he feels Rodolfo rubbing the inside of his palms with his thumbs. Zach knows he’s blushing under his close scrutiny.
“Hey, Rodolfo, we’re going to go for a run. Are you meeting up with mom and dad for lunch?” Chris asks and not-so-subtly extracts Zach’s hands from Rodolfo’s.
“Yeah, I’m going head over to Gwen and Bob’s in a little while.” His eyes never leave Zach’s.
“Cool, see you later,” Chris says.
Rodolfo finally tears his eyes away from Zach and drops onto the couch, resting his boots up on the coffee table again.
“Don’t put your boots on that,” Chris whines and hurries back to shove his brother’s feet off.
“Whatever, just clean it later.”
“And don’t scuff up the floors with your boots.”
“Please be more annoying. Please tell me more of your house rules that I’m going to ignore as soon as you leave.”
“Fine,” Chris huffs. He grabs his keys, phone, sunglasses, and the hem of Zach’s shirt and leads them out the door.
They’re halfway down the block before Zach breaks the silence.
“So. You have a twin.”
With a heavy sigh, Chris runs his hand through his hair. “It’s kind of a complicated story. It’s not like, this shameful family secret, but it’s... we just don’t really talk about it. I wasn’t intentionally not telling you.”
Zach studies him. “I know,” he says softly.
“My aunt and uncle, so my mom’s twin sister and her husband, always really wanted a kid. They’d tried for years and nothing was working, and they were thinking of adopting, but then my mom found out she was pregnant with us -- twins.” Chris holds his hands out, fingers splayed, for emphasis. “It was like, some sort of sign to her and there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for my aunt. My dad was heartbroken at first, but he knew what it meant to my mom, so he agreed. They did this really crazy and selfless thing and gave one of their babies away.”
Zach waits and hears Chris take a deep breath before continuing.
“It’s not like we didn’t know about it all our lives. But yeah, so Rodolfo grew up with my aunt and uncle in Ecuador. They’re super rich and like royalty there. He’s the heir to some rose empire or something ridiculous like that.”
Zach bites his lip to keep from laughing. “He’s the Prince of Roses?”
“Yeah. God, you’ll never hear the end of it. He used to spend summers with us when we were little. It’s sort of like he’s my cousin and not really my brother. Anyway, I don’t think anyone has any regrets about the way things worked out. He doesn’t resent my parents or anything.”
“Are you the older twin?”
Chris smiles and nods. “By four minutes.”
“I can’t picture you as an older sibling.”
“Are you kidding? I’m totally the older and more responsible one!” he says defensively.
“Okay, sure," Zach laughs. "You two are identical, right?”
“No, fraternal,” Chris said.
“Get out. I don’t think I could tell you two apart.”
“Yeah, we’re like the Olsen twins. Except less trollish.”
“So weird,” Zach whispers.
They end up taking a walk instead of jogging. It’s just as well because he’s wearing shorts that don’t conceal much when something’s happening in his junk area, and seeing Chris sweaty and breathing heavily right after Rodolfo fondled his hands with unmistakable lust in his eyes would create a bit of a situation in his pants. And if there was anything Zach learned from cross-country, it was that running with a chubby was not fun.
It’s remarkable how vastly different their personalities are.
Zach had thought Chris was always moderately outgoing, talkative when he needed to be. All things are relative, though. They’re at lunch the next day and Rodolfo, dressed in a black sleeveless shirt and leather pants that seem inappropriate for a Tuesday afternoon, starts chatting up and flirting with a waitress that isn’t even working their section, when Zach’s gaze falls on Chris. He takes in the sight of him in black framed glasses, hair in mild disarray, cardigan misbuttoned, while sipping his water carefully but still managing to spill some down his chin.
And that’s when it hits Zach: Chris is the frump twin.
The pretty waitress giggles when Rodolfo tries to guess her favorite rose color and Chris rolls his eyes.
“Oh my god, are you guys twins?” she asks excitedly.
Rodolfo grins and leans forward in his chair. “Double your pleasure, double your fun,” he tells her.
She bites her lip and blushes wildly, eyelashes fluttering at Rodolfo. Meanwhile, Chris is actually hiding his face behind his hand in embarrassment, looking like he’s wishing his chair could swallow him up. Zach empathizes with Chris, but thinks this is the most entertainment he’s gotten in weeks. Eventually, the waitress twirls a lock of hair around her finger and reluctantly leaves after promising to come by again later.
“Do you ever stop?” Chris accuses his brother.
“Don’t be mad cause you’re boring.”
“Whatever,” he mutters.
Rodolfo turns to Zach. “It’s been like this since we were little.”
“Yeah, that much is true, you’ve been annoying me since the beginning of time,” Chris agrees.
“He’s jealous, you see, because I’m better looking and more charming.”
Zach cocks his head to the side and looks between them. “But you look the same. Like, exactly the same. I thought for a split second that maybe it was you who answered the door this morning,” he points to Rodolfo, “except then I saw crumbs of blueberry muffin on his shirt and figured it was Chris.”
“I’m not a messy eater,” Chris protests. “I’m just enthusiastic.”
With a dismissive wave of his hand, another Chris-like gesture, Rodolfo continues. “I can’t help that people gravitate toward me. I must have absorbed all the available charisma when we were in the womb.”
Chris sits up in his chair. “No, there’s people gravitating toward you, and then there’s you stealing my friends from me.”
“I’ve never stolen your friends.”
“You do it all the time,” Chris counters.
“Like when?” Rodolfo challenges.
Zach props his chin on his hands and watches with amusement. It was like Chris was arguing with himself. He wanted to videotape it. It was that awesome.
“Like that one summer when I used to ride bikes with Colin and then you showed up and he didn’t want to ride bikes with me anymore.”
“Please, Chris, it’s not like I purposely lured him away with my Transformers.”
“And Amanda Green--”
“Who I kissed because she was pretty and had this pathetic crush on you but you were too busy secretly reading Katie’s Sweet Valley Twins books to notice her,” Rodolfo pointed out.
“There are no books about boy twins!”
Rodolfo rolls his eyes. “And I bet you’re going to bring up--”
“Brian--”
“Yes, Brian, your first boyfriend, Brian--”
“Who dumped me because--”
Rodolfo put his hands up. “It’s not my fault you gave shitty blow jobs.”
With a heavy sigh, Chris slumps into his chair with a pout and crosses his arms.
“And now? What have I done since I showed up?” Rodolfo’s voice softens and he pokes at Chris’ shoulder affectionately. “Who have I stolen from you? That waitress?”
“No, that’s not... whatever,” Chris mumbles, and Zach doesn’t miss the way Chris’ eyes briefly flicker to him. “I need to take a piss.” He pushes his chair back and stands up.
“I should wash my hands,” Zach says and follows him.
They’re right outside the men’s room when Zach wraps his hand around Chris’ wrist. “Hey, you okay?”
Chris turns around and deflates. “Sorry you had to see that. We don’t fight all the time. We get along fine, but he’s just so obnoxious sometimes,” he says.
“Don’t apologize.” Zach shuffles them over to the wall so people can walk past them. “It’s what brothers are like.” His fingers reach out and fix Chris’ cardigan buttoning blunder.
“Thanks,” Chris says sheepishly.
Smiling, Zach nods and tips his head toward the bathroom door. “Hurry up, before he eats all the good breadsticks by the time you get back.”
Chris’ brother has been in town for a week and every time Zach’s seen him, Rodolfo flirts more shamelessly with him, even going so far as to card his fingers through Zach’s arm hairs. Usually, he has no complaints about receiving this kind of attention. There was a certain power to knowing he could elicit that kind of reaction from people. But this... It makes Zach more than a little uncomfortable because he’s not really interested in Rodolfo.
If it was Chris, he’d be all up on that in no time, but it’s not. It just someone who looks like him and has the same, perfect mix of body parts that protrude obscenely in all the right places. Rodolfo is like this hypersexualized version of Chris who knows exactly what to do with all those body parts and isn’t afraid of his own sex appeal or gets flustered about how to use it to his advantage.
And it’s starting to mess with Zach’s head because now he knows what naked want looks like on Chris, and fuck, if that doesn’t give him a reason to spend a few extra minutes in the shower every morning.
The worst part is that Rodolfo’s doing it on purpose. Zach doesn’t know why, but he sees him check to make sure Chris is always watching when he’s reaching over to pet Zach’s hair. For the past week, there’s been a heavy feeling of guilt in his chest whenever he catches a glimpse of Chris’ disapproving frown whenever Rodolfo’s in his space.
The three of them are supposed to be watching Lost, but Zach isn’t even sure what season they’re on because all he can focus on is the weight of Rodolfo’s stare on him. Rodolfo lick his lips suggestively at Zach, in complete contrast to the way Chris does it subconsciously and adorably all the time, and it all just seems so deliberate and wrong. Zach curls in on himself a little and spills the contents of his wine glass onto his shirt.
“Oops. Shit.”
Zach runs to the kitchen before he gets scolded for letting the drops fall onto Chris’ new plush couch. Grabbing the roll of paper towels, he wets a few sheets and begins dabbing at his shirt.
He hears someone come up from behind and suddenly feels them press their hips against his ass, pinning him to the marble countertop. Zach gasps and drops the damp paper towel.
“Let’s make one thing clear.” The voice is low and seductive, right in his ear. “I’m not the least bit interested in you.”
As Zach turns around to face him, Rodolfo makes no effort to step back, so they end up brushing the entire lengths of their bodies across each other.
“Then why are you flirting blggg--”
Zach gets interrupted when Rodolfo shoves two fingers in his mouth. “Shh. Keep your voice down. Look over my shoulder. Is Chris watching?”
Chris isn’t staring, but Zach can see that he’s peaking out of the corner of his eye. From his posture, Chris looks defeated and hurt, and there’s a part of Zach that wants to gather him up and hug him until he smiles again. But he looks from Chris to Rodolfo and nods before looking down.
“Unbutton your shirt.” Rodolfo takes his fingers out of Zach’s mouth. The confidence and command in his voice makes Zach’s cock twitch and he bites his lip from whimpering. Then he shakes his head to clear it.
“Excuse me?” It comes out as a screechy whisper.
Rodolfo gives him an exasperated look, identical to the look Chris gives him when Zach tells him he should buy a hybrid vehicle.
“We need to soak that.” He points to Zach’s shirt. “I’m trying to help you out here. He’s jealous. He’s so fucking jealous his nuts are about to explode.”
“Why would he be jealous?” Zach asks.
Another look. “Cause he’s in love with you, you idiot moron. And it’s truly annoying. If he’s going to talk about someone so much, he better be boning them. Why is your shirt still on?” he hisses.
Zach looks down and slowly begins to unbutton it, processing what Chris’ brother just told him. With a quick glance, he sees that Chris is most definitely watching them with an unreadable expression.
“I don’t understand why this is helping.” He can totally see Rodolfo’s nipples through his white t-shirt. Why do these boys only wear white t-shirts?
“Because. For whatever stupid reason, he’s made up his mind that you’re not attracted to him. Which is a complete lie cause I can tell you are. And we all know you’re compatible on the stubborn and boring level.”
“We’re not boring.”
“Really? You guys had a twenty minute conversation about Hillary Clinton today.”
“She’s had a remarkable career! I’m sorry we don’t talk about roses all the time!”
“Jesus, okay. My point is that I thought he’d make a move by now and stake his claim like a caveman after I’ve been throwing myself at you. But he’s not, and it’s fucking frustrating to watch you two dance around like you want to tear at each other's pants but don’t know how to just grow a pair and actually do it.”
Clearing his throat, Zach takes a quick look at Chris, who’s doing a poor job of trying to ignore that something very weird is going down in his kitchen.
Zach’s eyebrows furrow as he slips his shirt off. “I still don’t understand how--”
His question is cut off as Rodolfo smashes their mouths together. It’s entirely unexpected and unsexy and every muscle is his body is protesting and screaming that this is wrong; this isn’t the way it’s supposed to feel.
“Umm.”
Zach pushes Rodolfo off him and sees Chris standing there, bright red and sullen, as if someone kicked his puppy and he’s about to burst into tears.
“God, Zach, I told you! I’m Rodolfo! This,” Rodolfo slaps his brother on the shoulder, "is Chris." He looks back and forth between their confused expressions and grins. "Cool, well, I’m gonna go to out, get hit on at bar or something, so there’s no mistake over which twin Zach really wants to be with. Have fun!”
Rodolfo sashays out the door, grabbing his leather jacket along the way, and gives them both an exaggerated wink.
“Well, that was awkward,” Zach says.
“I’m sorry he assaulted you,” Chris says to the floor.
Zach chuckles. “I’ll get over it.”
Raising his eyes to look at Zach, Chris point to the wine-stained shirt in his hands. “Do you need to borrow a shirt?”
“Yeah, probably a good idea.”
Apparently, they were still avoiding the very obvious topic that Rodolfo had just handed to them on a silver platter. They’re halfway down the hall that leads to Chris’ bedroom when Zach grabs his arm. His mind is racing as he turns Chris around and studies him for a silent moment before he drops his shirt and his shaky hands come up to cup Chris’ face. Chris blinks twice in surprise, his mouth falling open just a tiny bit just as Zach smoothes a thumb over his cheek and guides Chris’ lips to his. They’re soft and welcoming, moving slowly against Zach’s, capturing his bottom lip before Chris gently nips at it with his teeth.
Zach gasps and threads his fingers through Chris’ hair. He pushes him to the wall, aligning their hips and shuffling his feet so he’s not stepping on Chris’. Zach tips Chris’ head to one side and kisses down his neck, his fingertips following and learning what the day-old stubble feels like on his heated skin.
There’s a slight echo as the hallway fills with moans and gasps of breath. Chris’ hands are smoothing over the skin of his back and shoulders, scratching lightly and pulling him closer. Zach arches into his touch and cants his hips forward.
“Fuck, Zach.”
They’re both still wearing jeans, but Chris throws his head back, hitting the wall, at the feel of their erections pressed together through their clothing. Zach kisses Chris again, the tip of his tongue licking at Chris’ swollen top lip and teasing it into his mouth while he inches his hips back just enough to worm a hand between them.
“I hate your button-fly,” Zach pants.
Abruptly, Chris shoves him away tears his shirt up over his head. They quickly pull their jeans and underwear off themselves before they’re reaching desperately for each other. Their bodies crash and Zach’s knees almost buckle when his swollen length bumps Chris’. He feels his back against the cool wall and grabs onto Chris’ shoulders, rolling his hips as Chris frantically rubs their cocks together.
His eyes slip shut at the sensation and his hand finds its way into Chris’ hair as he mouths at Zach’s collarbone. Zach brings Chris’ lips up to his again and spins them so Chris is pinned with his back to the wall. With his other hand, he grips Chris, squeezing lightly before stroking him. The obscenities that fly out of Chris’ mouth and against his neck drive him to pump harder, thumbing over the slit and spreading the moisture there around the head and down the shaft while thrusting his hips and rubbing the tip of his own erection into the trail of hair on Chris’ belly.
“Zach, I’m...”
He doesn’t finish his warning before his body goes rigid for a second, then shudders between Zach and the wall. Seeing Chris in this undone state, and feeling the evidence of Chris’ orgasm on his fingers, splashed on his aching cock and across both their stomachs, pushes Zach closer to the edge and with a few rapid strokes, he pulses and spills onto his already slick hand.
Chris wraps his arms around Zach, steadying him and maneuvering their spent bodies to the floor. The hallway falls silent except for the sound of their labored breathing.
Finally, Chris stands on wobbly legs and helps Zach to his feet. Leaning in, Zach attempts to steal another kiss and smiles against the corner of Chris' mouth.
“So... which twin are you?” he whispers.
Chris reels back with such force that Zach thinks he might have given himself a neck injury.
“I’m just kidding! Chris, come on, I know it was you.”
“So not funny.”
Zach pulls Chris back into his arms. “Let me make it up to you,” Zach says into the skin of his shoulder.
Chris raises an eyebrow at him. “Will you make it up to me naked? On your knees?”
“Only if you buy me roses,” he says seriously.
For a moment, Zach can tell he’s actually considering it. And then he bursts into laughter as Chris nudges him toward the nearest bathroom.
“I hate you. Both of you.”