(no subject)
Twin fic, now with two for the price of one :) K!twins + C!twins is the best - I've had this fic lying around ever since we heard of the tour collab with DSquared, and after the fashion show it finally morphed from just a snapshot to a full-grown idea. Enjoy.
Title: Twofer
Genre: twins gen, now with more twins!
Rating: PG
Summary: Bill and Tom visit DSquared headquarters. Vignette.
“Ciao!”
“Ciao!”
“Ciao!”
“Um, hi!”
“You have to forgive him, he’s not a morning person,” Bill laughs; Tom’s greetings aren’t usually so awkward, but he hasn’t met the Catens before and Bill can see, in the slight frowny downward turn of Tom’s lips, that they’ve thrown him off balance. It is a bit silly that they’re dressed to match, but Bill isn’t one to judge people’s outfit choices, especially when those people are greeting them with champagne and making him beautiful custom clothing. “This is my brother, Tom.”
“So pleased to meet you,” Dean and Dan say together, smiling their broad, friendly smiles, and not even Tom can resist the full force of twin cheer although it is kind of strange to be on the receiving end of it for once. The Catens keep throwing glances back and forth in mutual reassurance as one of them makes polite chit chat for a few minutes and one nods along, and the unity they project for the outside world to see matches the way they seem attuned to each other. Bill can appreciate that, and he can feel Tom thawing, too.
“Are you excited?” Dan asks. “We’re so excited to be working with you, guys.”
“Are you kidding, Bill hasn’t shut up about this for a week,” Tom quips and they all laugh. The four of them clink glasses; it is the beginning of a twin friendship.
“Well, we know you’re very busy, so let’s get to it,” Dean says, and then they’re being whisked away to the work area of the enormous industrial compound that serves as DSquared headquarters slash warehouse slash showroom. The building is fashionably dilapidated from the outside, but here, in the inner sanctum, it’s all about style. Bill enjoys the glimpse behind the scenes; after everything they’ve seen and done, this is still new to him.
“You’re getting a kick out of this, aren’t you,” Tom whispers to him as they follow the other twins through a large office space where fashionable people sit and work on design sketches. The tables are piled with color swatches and strips of sample fabrics, large coffee cups sit between expensive computers, and in the background, quietly, they can hear music playing: their music.
“We like to play your album while the tour outfits are being worked on,” Dan explains as if he has read Bill’s mind. “Inspiration.”
His twin flashes Bill a grin. “It’s all about you today, guys. Come, look.”
Bill has seen sketches of his stage clothes, pictures of the outfits coming together, but what hangs off the mannequin when they enter the twins’ workspace is something else and Bill can feel his heart beginning to beat faster. He’s been looking forward to this moment ever since Jost told him the DSquared deal had come through, and now they’re actually here and Bill can suddenly see the tour they’re working so hard to prepare taking shape. “Oh my god,” he bursts out, hands already itching to touch the feathery shoulder pads of the jacket, the smooth, tactile leather of the pants. “It’s great!”
Tom lets out a tiny huff. “This is the one for the fashion show?” he asks, and the twins laugh.
“You don’t appreciate your brother’s style, do you,” Dan says, smiling. “Don’t worry, we’re not putting all of you into these.”
“We have some very nice denim for you to look at though,” Dean suggests, already thumbing through a mockup of a catalogue, and so Tom is appeased while Bill is given the leather pants to change into. The designers have only worked with the measurements Natalie took so far, and with something this figure-hugging, there have to be fittings, but squeezing into the pants quickly becomes an actual challenge. Bill makes a face at himself in a mirror, excitement quickly waning with the effort he has to exert to get the tight-laced pants halfway up his legs; he loses his shorts and starts over.
Outside his cubicle, he can hear the three others chat, and then footfalls disappear down a hall and Tom’s voice hisses, “Bill?”
Bill pokes his head out of the changing cubicle, curtain hugged around his body, to find Tom sticking post-its to pages in the catalogue. “What?”
Tom cautiously glances left and right. “They said they’d be back in a minute.”
“And what is your problem?” Bill asks, amused.
Tom looks sheepish. “I, uh, I. I can’t tell them apart. It’s so embarrassing!”
Bill laughs out loud. “How can you not tell them apart? It’s easy.”
“I can’t, okay?” Tom huffs. “Why’d they have to wear the same clothes? It’s stupid. Messing with people’s heads is only funny when we’re the ones doing it.”
“Twin phobia?” Bill grins. “Please. Dan is the chatty one.”
“They’re both chatty!” Tom purses his lips, pouting. He jerks his head towards the mannequin. “You’re not really going to wear that feather thing, are you.”
“Of course I am! It’s gorgeous,” Bill tells his asinine twin. “Come here, I need help.”
For all his denseness, Tom sometimes is way too perceptive, or maybe it’s just that he’s so paranoid. He squints suspiciously at Bill wriggling behind the curtain. “With what?”
“I can’t get the pants up my legs myself, they’re too tight.”
“I could’ve told you that before you went in there,” Tom says wisely. “Not my problem.”
“Tooom,” Bill whines. He doesn’t want their hosts to come back only to find him stuck in their couture, half naked. “Please!”
Tom lets out a longsuffering sigh, but deigns to come over and take a look behind the curtain. “Going commando? That’s going to chafe,” is his assessment after a few seconds of trying and failing to suppress an evil smirk. “Maybe you should just tell them you want larger pants.”
“They’re supposed to be tight,” Bill snaps. A sheen of sweat is breaking out over his skin, and that’s not helping any with the leather pants. He pulls at the waistband, but two hands just aren’t enough; good thing they’re one person with four hands. “Come on, just help me tug them up.”
Tom gives him a dark look that conveys the full depth of his suffering, but he grabs the pants and, with a forceful tug, yanks them up.
“Oof!” Bill makes as the front seams cut into sensitive bits.
“Told you so.” Tom wasn’t looking forward to the visit with DSquared nearly as much as Bill, but suddenly his mood seems much improved. Before Bill has had a moment to recover, he yanks at the waistband and zips the pants up in the back, and then Bill’s crotch is trapped inside a leather prison, screaming to get out.
“It’s too bad you hardly ever had sex,” Tom tells him, grinning, “because after this, you won’t be able to ever again.”
“Shut up.”
“Seriously though, do you really want to hit the runway in these? It’s obvious you’re not wearing underwear.”
Bill shifts his weight gingerly from left foot to right, studying himself in the mirror. The pants are getting more comfortable as the leather warms and molds itself to his body, but Tom is right, they’re pretty indecent. Slowly, he begins to grin. “That’s the point, isn’t it?”
“Pervert,” is Tom’s estimation, and then one of the Catens calls, “Any luck in there?”
Brilliant choice of words. Snickering, Tom gives his twin a thumbs down and swaggers back to his prime seat to watch Bill shuffle out of the changing room.
“Um, yeah.” Carefully, Bill takes a few steps under the critical eyes of the designers, who have returned with extra large coffee cups in their hands and measuring tapes slung around their necks. The pants are still stiff, but not as bad to move in as he first thought; they’re made to measure, and a good fit.
“Fabulous,” the twins say together, reaching the same conclusion after a moment’s consideration.
“You think?” Bill throws his own twin a triumphant glance.
“Needs a little altering,” Dean suggests, “And boots. Big boots!” Dan adds, “But this look is going to be great,” his brother finishes. They both beam at Bill. “Shall we?”
They have Bill stand on a chair to work on the hems of his pants. Dan keeps talking while Dean whips out the tape measure and crouches on the floor to tug at the folds in the leather. Bill was right, Dan is the chatty one between the two of them, making easy conversation with Bill about music and style and the upcoming tour. He’s good, too - Bill could never tell that the man’s full attention isn’t focused on him if he didn’t know that one can never have one half of a twin pair completely, unless you’re his other half. Dan is there with the pin cushion or the scissors or the chalk the moment Dean reaches out blindly; their movements blend smoothly to make quick work of Bill’s leather pants, then the enormous feathery jacket.
“This is awesome.”
“So glamorous.”
“You look amazing, baby!”
Bill laughs. He loves their enthusiasm, the way they throw up their hands in identical gestures of exultation. “You make wonderful clothes,” he returns the compliments and watches the twins duck their heads bashfully.
“We just do…”
“…what we love.”
When Bill looks at them, he can see his future. He quite likes it.
Tom isn’t quite as enthusiastic, although that has more to do with his general aversion to stylists and tailored clothes than Dean and Dan themselves. He keeps frowning for the entire half-hour it takes the twins to prod and tug at him until they pronounce his outfit perfect! and give each other high fives, each complimenting the other on his great work. Bill bites his lip to keep from laughing.
“Are we like that?” Tom whispers to him afterwards in the hesitant voice of one who already knows he won’t like the answer. They watch the other twins bend over a pile of sketches, making tiny adjustments that seem visible to no one but them, wrapped up in their own little world where communication is swift and wordless and a glance conveys a million things at once.
“I think so,” Bill smiles.
“Oh God,” Tom sighs, but try as he might, he can’t quite stifle the smirk that tugs at the corners of his mouth.
“I think they’re fun.”
“I think they’re fun too. That’s what worries me,” Tom says. He looks at them appraisingly. “I never realized we must look that weird to outsiders. It’s like…like… They live in their own private bubble, with their own language and all.”
“Yeah. Just like us.” Bill braces one arm on his twin’s shoulder and leans in, reassuringly.
Tom makes a face. “They’re so into each other.”
“And we’re not?” Bill asks softly. “In my world, it doesn’t matter how lame and neurotic you are, you’re still the greatest person in existence. Just so you know.”
“Your teeth are fake,” Tom counters as if in reflex, and Bill laughs.
“Yeah, but now they look like yours, like they’re supposed to.”
Tom turns his head to meet his twin’s sparkling eyes, their foreheads almost touching. Slowly, he begins to smirk. “I guess you can’t help it,” he says indulgently. “I am pretty awesome. Who wouldn’t want to look like me?”
“Yeah.” Fondly, Bill pats his shoulder. “You’re awesome.”
“Same,” Tom says curtly.
“Aw. Even if I wear these pants down the runway?” Bill teases.
“Always,” Tom huffs. “You know that!”
Bill doesn’t need proof of his brother’s affection; still, sometimes it’s nice to have. He smiles. “Will you sit front row at the fashion show?”
Tom cringes. “And watch our package being put on display in those pants?” He groans. “Yeah, sure.”
“Come on, you never get tired of telling people about your dick,” Bill laughs. “Let them have something to fire their imagination.”
“It’s sure firing theirs.” Tom jerks his chin at the other twins, who are still studying their sketches and sneaking quick, impish glances at Bill and Tom in between.
“Tom! They have boyfriends!” Bill whispers in mock outrage. “Husbands even, I think.”
As if on cue, the twins look up and smile. “So, guys, are we ready to do this? Fashion week?” Dan asks. “Have you decided if you like the outfit?”
“He decides,” Tom says instantly, nudging Bill forward. “He likes it, so.”
“Great!” the others beam at them.
“Tom, are you sure you don’t want to join Bill on the runway? We could make you an outfit to match.” The Catens’ playful leers show exactly what sort of darkly sexy vision they have for Tom. “Double impact!”
Tom’s eyes widen in horror. “Nah, I’m good,” he says, fumbling for polite words in English. “I just want to watch.”
“Pity,” Dean and Dan say together, clasping their hands over their hearts. “We’ve always wanted twin celebrities on our runway.”
“You’re twin celebrities,” Bill smiles, and they laugh it off modestly and spend the next ten minutes talking about the fashion industry and making it all the way to the top. Their story, like Bill and Tom’s own, is one of rags to riches, hard work paying off in the end.
“We got lucky,” Dan grins.
“We get to work four-handed,” Dean adds. “It’s unfair, really. The competition never stood a chance.” They all laugh together at that. It’s true enough, though. Double impact.
They say their goodbyes amicably, all of them looking forward to the next time they meet. Milan will be a bash to remember, Bill can already tell from the way his crotch itches upon being released into the gentle surroundings of cotton and denim. The runway show will make a huge stir, hopefully, and the afterparty at the shop should be fun.
It’s a day full of promise.
“Thank you so much,” he says as they exchange handshakes and little pecks on the cheeks, Italian style. “I can’t wait for the show!”
“We’re happy that you’re happy with the outfit.” Dan elbows him a little. “Think your brother is okay with it all?”
“Yeah,” Bill says, watching Tom and Dean exchange pleasantries. Tom is shuffling his feet as he stands with his hands buried deeply in his pockets, but he’s smiling now. “We like to play different, but we’re the same on the inside.”
Dan nods, and Bill knows this is one of the rare times he is truly understood. He appreciates it.
“Are you coming?” he asks his twin, who seems to have warmed to some topic at last. “The car’s here.”
“I’ve just got one more question,” Tom says, stumbling a little over his consonants.
“What’s that?” Dean smiles.
“Well.” Tom licks his lip. “You’ve got lots of great clothes.” He throws his arm out in an all-encompassing gesture. “Why wear the same things?”
The Catens laugh their identical laugh. “Why not…” Dan says, and Dean adds, impishly, “…when it throws people off so nicely?”
They’re secure enough in their identities to keep people guessing at them. Bill likes that. It’s worth a second thought.
“Like chameleon skin?” he pipes up, laughing.
“Yes!” Dan agrees emphatically. “No matter how it looks on the outside, it’s still the same underneath.”
Tom seems to ponder this; he is quiet on the ride back to their hotel, and Bill leaves him be, content to sit next to Tom and keep the sides of their feet pressed together.
“I’m still not wearing leather pants,” Tom says eventually. He glances over at Bill. “I don’t need to, do I?”
“Of course not,” Bill tells him, grinning. “You’d look stupid anyway.”
“I’d look like you,” Tom retorts. “Are you saying you look stupid?”
“You’d look stupid as me,” Bill says. “And I’d look stupid as you.”
A faint crease appears between Tom’s brows. “D’you think we could be the same again? Like they are? If we wanted to?”
“Sure,” Bill smiles. “If we went for neither ‘you’ nor ‘me’, but us. I’m pretty sure it’s still there. Under the hair and the make-up and the piercings and clothes.”
“To rediscover?” Tom grins. “Yeah. Maybe. When we’re old.”
“When we’re old,” Bill agrees.
It is something to look forward to, the new-old that is always there under the surface, waiting to be reclaimed like a long-lost treasure. For now, though, they are as the different sides of the same shiny, rare coin, and that’s good, too.
Across the seat, Bill reaches out and takes his twin’s hand. They are two. They are one. They are halves. It’s all the same to him.
***
I think I need a twins² icon. Anyone have a picture of the four of them that might work?
Title: Twofer
Genre: twins gen, now with more twins!
Rating: PG
Summary: Bill and Tom visit DSquared headquarters. Vignette.
“Ciao!”
“Ciao!”
“Ciao!”
“Um, hi!”
“You have to forgive him, he’s not a morning person,” Bill laughs; Tom’s greetings aren’t usually so awkward, but he hasn’t met the Catens before and Bill can see, in the slight frowny downward turn of Tom’s lips, that they’ve thrown him off balance. It is a bit silly that they’re dressed to match, but Bill isn’t one to judge people’s outfit choices, especially when those people are greeting them with champagne and making him beautiful custom clothing. “This is my brother, Tom.”
“So pleased to meet you,” Dean and Dan say together, smiling their broad, friendly smiles, and not even Tom can resist the full force of twin cheer although it is kind of strange to be on the receiving end of it for once. The Catens keep throwing glances back and forth in mutual reassurance as one of them makes polite chit chat for a few minutes and one nods along, and the unity they project for the outside world to see matches the way they seem attuned to each other. Bill can appreciate that, and he can feel Tom thawing, too.
“Are you excited?” Dan asks. “We’re so excited to be working with you, guys.”
“Are you kidding, Bill hasn’t shut up about this for a week,” Tom quips and they all laugh. The four of them clink glasses; it is the beginning of a twin friendship.
“Well, we know you’re very busy, so let’s get to it,” Dean says, and then they’re being whisked away to the work area of the enormous industrial compound that serves as DSquared headquarters slash warehouse slash showroom. The building is fashionably dilapidated from the outside, but here, in the inner sanctum, it’s all about style. Bill enjoys the glimpse behind the scenes; after everything they’ve seen and done, this is still new to him.
“You’re getting a kick out of this, aren’t you,” Tom whispers to him as they follow the other twins through a large office space where fashionable people sit and work on design sketches. The tables are piled with color swatches and strips of sample fabrics, large coffee cups sit between expensive computers, and in the background, quietly, they can hear music playing: their music.
“We like to play your album while the tour outfits are being worked on,” Dan explains as if he has read Bill’s mind. “Inspiration.”
His twin flashes Bill a grin. “It’s all about you today, guys. Come, look.”
Bill has seen sketches of his stage clothes, pictures of the outfits coming together, but what hangs off the mannequin when they enter the twins’ workspace is something else and Bill can feel his heart beginning to beat faster. He’s been looking forward to this moment ever since Jost told him the DSquared deal had come through, and now they’re actually here and Bill can suddenly see the tour they’re working so hard to prepare taking shape. “Oh my god,” he bursts out, hands already itching to touch the feathery shoulder pads of the jacket, the smooth, tactile leather of the pants. “It’s great!”
Tom lets out a tiny huff. “This is the one for the fashion show?” he asks, and the twins laugh.
“You don’t appreciate your brother’s style, do you,” Dan says, smiling. “Don’t worry, we’re not putting all of you into these.”
“We have some very nice denim for you to look at though,” Dean suggests, already thumbing through a mockup of a catalogue, and so Tom is appeased while Bill is given the leather pants to change into. The designers have only worked with the measurements Natalie took so far, and with something this figure-hugging, there have to be fittings, but squeezing into the pants quickly becomes an actual challenge. Bill makes a face at himself in a mirror, excitement quickly waning with the effort he has to exert to get the tight-laced pants halfway up his legs; he loses his shorts and starts over.
Outside his cubicle, he can hear the three others chat, and then footfalls disappear down a hall and Tom’s voice hisses, “Bill?”
Bill pokes his head out of the changing cubicle, curtain hugged around his body, to find Tom sticking post-its to pages in the catalogue. “What?”
Tom cautiously glances left and right. “They said they’d be back in a minute.”
“And what is your problem?” Bill asks, amused.
Tom looks sheepish. “I, uh, I. I can’t tell them apart. It’s so embarrassing!”
Bill laughs out loud. “How can you not tell them apart? It’s easy.”
“I can’t, okay?” Tom huffs. “Why’d they have to wear the same clothes? It’s stupid. Messing with people’s heads is only funny when we’re the ones doing it.”
“Twin phobia?” Bill grins. “Please. Dan is the chatty one.”
“They’re both chatty!” Tom purses his lips, pouting. He jerks his head towards the mannequin. “You’re not really going to wear that feather thing, are you.”
“Of course I am! It’s gorgeous,” Bill tells his asinine twin. “Come here, I need help.”
For all his denseness, Tom sometimes is way too perceptive, or maybe it’s just that he’s so paranoid. He squints suspiciously at Bill wriggling behind the curtain. “With what?”
“I can’t get the pants up my legs myself, they’re too tight.”
“I could’ve told you that before you went in there,” Tom says wisely. “Not my problem.”
“Tooom,” Bill whines. He doesn’t want their hosts to come back only to find him stuck in their couture, half naked. “Please!”
Tom lets out a longsuffering sigh, but deigns to come over and take a look behind the curtain. “Going commando? That’s going to chafe,” is his assessment after a few seconds of trying and failing to suppress an evil smirk. “Maybe you should just tell them you want larger pants.”
“They’re supposed to be tight,” Bill snaps. A sheen of sweat is breaking out over his skin, and that’s not helping any with the leather pants. He pulls at the waistband, but two hands just aren’t enough; good thing they’re one person with four hands. “Come on, just help me tug them up.”
Tom gives him a dark look that conveys the full depth of his suffering, but he grabs the pants and, with a forceful tug, yanks them up.
“Oof!” Bill makes as the front seams cut into sensitive bits.
“Told you so.” Tom wasn’t looking forward to the visit with DSquared nearly as much as Bill, but suddenly his mood seems much improved. Before Bill has had a moment to recover, he yanks at the waistband and zips the pants up in the back, and then Bill’s crotch is trapped inside a leather prison, screaming to get out.
“It’s too bad you hardly ever had sex,” Tom tells him, grinning, “because after this, you won’t be able to ever again.”
“Shut up.”
“Seriously though, do you really want to hit the runway in these? It’s obvious you’re not wearing underwear.”
Bill shifts his weight gingerly from left foot to right, studying himself in the mirror. The pants are getting more comfortable as the leather warms and molds itself to his body, but Tom is right, they’re pretty indecent. Slowly, he begins to grin. “That’s the point, isn’t it?”
“Pervert,” is Tom’s estimation, and then one of the Catens calls, “Any luck in there?”
Brilliant choice of words. Snickering, Tom gives his twin a thumbs down and swaggers back to his prime seat to watch Bill shuffle out of the changing room.
“Um, yeah.” Carefully, Bill takes a few steps under the critical eyes of the designers, who have returned with extra large coffee cups in their hands and measuring tapes slung around their necks. The pants are still stiff, but not as bad to move in as he first thought; they’re made to measure, and a good fit.
“Fabulous,” the twins say together, reaching the same conclusion after a moment’s consideration.
“You think?” Bill throws his own twin a triumphant glance.
“Needs a little altering,” Dean suggests, “And boots. Big boots!” Dan adds, “But this look is going to be great,” his brother finishes. They both beam at Bill. “Shall we?”
They have Bill stand on a chair to work on the hems of his pants. Dan keeps talking while Dean whips out the tape measure and crouches on the floor to tug at the folds in the leather. Bill was right, Dan is the chatty one between the two of them, making easy conversation with Bill about music and style and the upcoming tour. He’s good, too - Bill could never tell that the man’s full attention isn’t focused on him if he didn’t know that one can never have one half of a twin pair completely, unless you’re his other half. Dan is there with the pin cushion or the scissors or the chalk the moment Dean reaches out blindly; their movements blend smoothly to make quick work of Bill’s leather pants, then the enormous feathery jacket.
“This is awesome.”
“So glamorous.”
“You look amazing, baby!”
Bill laughs. He loves their enthusiasm, the way they throw up their hands in identical gestures of exultation. “You make wonderful clothes,” he returns the compliments and watches the twins duck their heads bashfully.
“We just do…”
“…what we love.”
When Bill looks at them, he can see his future. He quite likes it.
Tom isn’t quite as enthusiastic, although that has more to do with his general aversion to stylists and tailored clothes than Dean and Dan themselves. He keeps frowning for the entire half-hour it takes the twins to prod and tug at him until they pronounce his outfit perfect! and give each other high fives, each complimenting the other on his great work. Bill bites his lip to keep from laughing.
“Are we like that?” Tom whispers to him afterwards in the hesitant voice of one who already knows he won’t like the answer. They watch the other twins bend over a pile of sketches, making tiny adjustments that seem visible to no one but them, wrapped up in their own little world where communication is swift and wordless and a glance conveys a million things at once.
“I think so,” Bill smiles.
“Oh God,” Tom sighs, but try as he might, he can’t quite stifle the smirk that tugs at the corners of his mouth.
“I think they’re fun.”
“I think they’re fun too. That’s what worries me,” Tom says. He looks at them appraisingly. “I never realized we must look that weird to outsiders. It’s like…like… They live in their own private bubble, with their own language and all.”
“Yeah. Just like us.” Bill braces one arm on his twin’s shoulder and leans in, reassuringly.
Tom makes a face. “They’re so into each other.”
“And we’re not?” Bill asks softly. “In my world, it doesn’t matter how lame and neurotic you are, you’re still the greatest person in existence. Just so you know.”
“Your teeth are fake,” Tom counters as if in reflex, and Bill laughs.
“Yeah, but now they look like yours, like they’re supposed to.”
Tom turns his head to meet his twin’s sparkling eyes, their foreheads almost touching. Slowly, he begins to smirk. “I guess you can’t help it,” he says indulgently. “I am pretty awesome. Who wouldn’t want to look like me?”
“Yeah.” Fondly, Bill pats his shoulder. “You’re awesome.”
“Same,” Tom says curtly.
“Aw. Even if I wear these pants down the runway?” Bill teases.
“Always,” Tom huffs. “You know that!”
Bill doesn’t need proof of his brother’s affection; still, sometimes it’s nice to have. He smiles. “Will you sit front row at the fashion show?”
Tom cringes. “And watch our package being put on display in those pants?” He groans. “Yeah, sure.”
“Come on, you never get tired of telling people about your dick,” Bill laughs. “Let them have something to fire their imagination.”
“It’s sure firing theirs.” Tom jerks his chin at the other twins, who are still studying their sketches and sneaking quick, impish glances at Bill and Tom in between.
“Tom! They have boyfriends!” Bill whispers in mock outrage. “Husbands even, I think.”
As if on cue, the twins look up and smile. “So, guys, are we ready to do this? Fashion week?” Dan asks. “Have you decided if you like the outfit?”
“He decides,” Tom says instantly, nudging Bill forward. “He likes it, so.”
“Great!” the others beam at them.
“Tom, are you sure you don’t want to join Bill on the runway? We could make you an outfit to match.” The Catens’ playful leers show exactly what sort of darkly sexy vision they have for Tom. “Double impact!”
Tom’s eyes widen in horror. “Nah, I’m good,” he says, fumbling for polite words in English. “I just want to watch.”
“Pity,” Dean and Dan say together, clasping their hands over their hearts. “We’ve always wanted twin celebrities on our runway.”
“You’re twin celebrities,” Bill smiles, and they laugh it off modestly and spend the next ten minutes talking about the fashion industry and making it all the way to the top. Their story, like Bill and Tom’s own, is one of rags to riches, hard work paying off in the end.
“We got lucky,” Dan grins.
“We get to work four-handed,” Dean adds. “It’s unfair, really. The competition never stood a chance.” They all laugh together at that. It’s true enough, though. Double impact.
They say their goodbyes amicably, all of them looking forward to the next time they meet. Milan will be a bash to remember, Bill can already tell from the way his crotch itches upon being released into the gentle surroundings of cotton and denim. The runway show will make a huge stir, hopefully, and the afterparty at the shop should be fun.
It’s a day full of promise.
“Thank you so much,” he says as they exchange handshakes and little pecks on the cheeks, Italian style. “I can’t wait for the show!”
“We’re happy that you’re happy with the outfit.” Dan elbows him a little. “Think your brother is okay with it all?”
“Yeah,” Bill says, watching Tom and Dean exchange pleasantries. Tom is shuffling his feet as he stands with his hands buried deeply in his pockets, but he’s smiling now. “We like to play different, but we’re the same on the inside.”
Dan nods, and Bill knows this is one of the rare times he is truly understood. He appreciates it.
“Are you coming?” he asks his twin, who seems to have warmed to some topic at last. “The car’s here.”
“I’ve just got one more question,” Tom says, stumbling a little over his consonants.
“What’s that?” Dean smiles.
“Well.” Tom licks his lip. “You’ve got lots of great clothes.” He throws his arm out in an all-encompassing gesture. “Why wear the same things?”
The Catens laugh their identical laugh. “Why not…” Dan says, and Dean adds, impishly, “…when it throws people off so nicely?”
They’re secure enough in their identities to keep people guessing at them. Bill likes that. It’s worth a second thought.
“Like chameleon skin?” he pipes up, laughing.
“Yes!” Dan agrees emphatically. “No matter how it looks on the outside, it’s still the same underneath.”
Tom seems to ponder this; he is quiet on the ride back to their hotel, and Bill leaves him be, content to sit next to Tom and keep the sides of their feet pressed together.
“I’m still not wearing leather pants,” Tom says eventually. He glances over at Bill. “I don’t need to, do I?”
“Of course not,” Bill tells him, grinning. “You’d look stupid anyway.”
“I’d look like you,” Tom retorts. “Are you saying you look stupid?”
“You’d look stupid as me,” Bill says. “And I’d look stupid as you.”
A faint crease appears between Tom’s brows. “D’you think we could be the same again? Like they are? If we wanted to?”
“Sure,” Bill smiles. “If we went for neither ‘you’ nor ‘me’, but us. I’m pretty sure it’s still there. Under the hair and the make-up and the piercings and clothes.”
“To rediscover?” Tom grins. “Yeah. Maybe. When we’re old.”
“When we’re old,” Bill agrees.
It is something to look forward to, the new-old that is always there under the surface, waiting to be reclaimed like a long-lost treasure. For now, though, they are as the different sides of the same shiny, rare coin, and that’s good, too.
Across the seat, Bill reaches out and takes his twin’s hand. They are two. They are one. They are halves. It’s all the same to him.
***
I think I need a twins² icon. Anyone have a picture of the four of them that might work?