Do I get to have the first DR fic? Do I, do I, do I?
I think this is the best first paragraph I've ever written. Seriously. In a not-so-serious way.
Fucking him is like fucking myself, except more difficult. I can’t look him in the eye. I like to think that, if given the chance to fuck myself, I’d be able to meet my own eyes.
Beverly, when beneath me, shakes and trembles like a frightened kitten. He takes the pain with more grace than I could ever muster, however. Darling Baby Brother. Beautiful, genius, twin Baby Brother. He shakes and squirms and sweats and cries out, emasculated, and I adore him for it. And afterward, after orgasm hits him and he tosses his head back with a small mewl of pleasure and indignation, after semen has stained the sheets and trickled between his legs, he crawls into my lap to be held. Why do you want to be held, Bev? Why do you want me to touch you so badly?
Damn that woman. Damn her.
Always so passive, Beverly. If I’d never suggested that we begin sharing our women—my women—you’d be content to remain a virgin all your life. Because when we share a bed, it has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with fucking. We were meant to be one person, Bev, if you want to talk about mutations. Hey, a trifurcate uterus is nothing compared to the mutation that takes place during the conception of identical twins. We were never meant to be, logically. But here we are. One sperm, one egg, two people. We are physically identical, so who’s to say that, deep down, we aren’t psychologically identical?
Who’s to say we aren’t one person in two bodies?
Put together we make one brilliant scientist, one amazing lover.
Why do you want to be held, Bev? I don’t want to touch you; I want to be you.
Cunts all start to look the same after awhile. But you will be unique until the very end, Bevvy dearest, because you are exactly like me.
It’s not incest and it’s not weird; it barely rises above a level of masturbation until you ask to be held, and then it becomes something else entirely. Eliot is the predator feeding off of his prey, Beverly. But is it really so bad? You can’t have one without the other. Eng… if I die… where will you go?
You’re tighter than my fist, tighter than any woman, hotter and fiercer and when we come together it’s like reaching heaven while going to hell. It’s the only way we can become joined, as Eng and Chang were joined, as we were meant to be joined. Don’t cut me off Baby Brother.
That woman is a knife and she’ll cut us apart the way no other woman could. Don’t let her.
Trust me, Bevvy, and let me be the one who holds you after the bad dreams.