Hey!
This is the first longer story I published here, but I have written some before.
I know that twincest is a quite much-used topic for fanfictions. I never really liked it, but I read some stories which I thought were improvable and I wanted to give it a shot and try to do it better.
This story is going to be a little bit like life: Happy, sad, romance, drama, dark!writing, fluff. Don't say I didn't warn you.
So here comes my one and probably only twincest story. Enjoy! And if you don't:
I don't ask anyone to review, but if you do, I do ask you to be honest with me. If you didn't like it because it was twincest, don't bother to review. But if you didn't like it because of my writing style, please tell me. I want to get better, after all. And I can take criticism ^^
***************************Introducing the reader 1 – ZPOV**********************
I was woken by the piercing sound of Cody's alarm clock. Irritated, I rolled myself to the other side, pulling the pillow over my head and nuzzling my face into the mattress. I didn't want to get up. I had better things to do than going to school right now!
I'd had this most beautiful dream… We were on a stupid boat trip, and… Crap, I had already lost it. That's the way it is with dreams. They have this annoying tendency to be nothing but smoke when you wake up to face evil reality. See why I like sleeping better?
Somebody grabbed my blanket and pulled it off of me. With a silent 'hmph'-sound I shoved the pillow away and dragged myself out of bed. Cody was already in the bathroom, so I had a few minutes to myself.
I hurried with getting dressed. My body hygiene was limited to using deodorant; I showered in the evening. Everything else would have been… risky. I was just done with combing my hair and putting some gel into it when my twin brother left the bathroom.
I was immediately glad that I had made it out of bed. "Hey, bro" I said the very moment he said "Good morning!" We smiled at each other briefly before grabbing our bags and leaving the room.
"Morning, guys!" Mom shouted in our vague direction; she was too busy with something on the table to look at us. "Morning, Mom!" We answered before sitting down. Even Cody had given up on helping Mom in the morning years ago – she was too far gone for any help.
Sometimes we got lucky and she was actually able to serve us something that deserved the name 'food'. We got lucky today.
"These pancakes are delicious!" Cody commended. He couldn't seem to hide his astonishment completely. I nodded enthusiastically.
Mom kissed the top of his head, hugging him from behind. "Thanks, Cody!"
"Where d'ya buy 'em?" I asked between two bites. Cody threw me a look that was probably meant to frighten me. It looked very adorable on him.
The smile halfway dropped from her face. "Supermarket", she said a little guiltily and took one herself, eating it with her hands. She never sat down with us for breakfast. I guessed it made her feel like she was saving time.
"Well… You're a great buyer, Mom!" Cody said.
She laughed. "A mother's got to be good at something…"
"You're good at many things!" Cody argued. "I mean, you're good at singing, dancing, running a household…"
"Yeah," I agreed, "Just not cooking." Cody gave me another very dark look.
"… oh, I almost forgot that. Congratulations, mom, you mastered the ultimate challenge: You raised Zack!" He ended. I tried to look offended but had to punch myself to keep from chuckling. I hit my leg just the slightest bit too hard and cried out in pain.
"Naw," Mom answered, thoughtfully shaking her head. "I think I've still got a lot of work to do there…"
*****************************Introducing the reader 2 – CPOV******************************
I was no morning guy.
I mean, of course I was okay with the morning. I didn't have problems dragging myself out of bed like my twin brother. My brain worked at mornings just the way it did all day. I didn't have such a thing as a 'No-social-contact-time'; most people are simply insufferable before 8 o'clock.
But in the morning, I always felt… flabby inside. My reaction time was longer, my mind was a bit sleepy and it seemed like my body had to relearn how to move correctly. The only thing to wake me from that condition was fresh air.
That was one reason why I didn't like the school bus, but not the only one.
It was crowded and sticky and dirty. You could nearly watch as the bacteria jumped from skin to pad to skin. Everybody shouted at each other (I did mention the 'No-social-contact-time', didn't I?) and you couldn't talk to anyone if you didn't want to be the one being shouted at. Hating fights, I avoided any morning conversation.
I was very glad when the first lesson began, Latin. We translated a text from the "Bello Gallico" and learnt a new possibility of utilization for the Participle Future Active. (Well, I already knew it, but it was interesting to have it presented by a teacher instead of a library book.)
The time rushed by and before I knew it, it was lunchtime and I was sitting at a table with Liv, Tyler, Barbara and Fred. Unfortunately, I happened to sit between Liv and Tyler.
Their mother is a fan of Liv Tyler and when she was told she was having twins, she named them after the actress. They are very intelligent, but can be really annoying, too. They talk a lot. Okay, 'talk' is a bit understated. In fact, they chatter. That day, they were exchanging mottos.
"Hey, do you want to know what my motto is?" Nobody answered because Liv never waits for an answer anyway. "It's 'Blondes may be pretty, but brunettes are smart!'" She threw a poisonous look at Jessica, a blonde at the neighbor table who was surrounded by a crowd of boys.
"I don't know…" Fred muttered, nodding towards Jessica's brunette friend who looked like she had tons of make-up in her face and milligrams of brain behind it. While we were looking, she made an adventurous move in her dangerous-looking high heels and fell right into a plate of Lasagna.
"Oh, no," Barbara said with a very, very sad face, "The make-up! It must have taken her hours!"
"My motto is better," Tyler told his twin sister. "'Know nothing – get nothing, Have nothing – lose nothing!" Tyler said such things from time to time. Nobody really understood them, but he didn't care. Neither did anyone else.
"What does that mean?" Liv asked. Correction: Anyone but her. We others rolled our eyes. "It means that when you know nothing, you achieve nothing, but if you just have nothing…"
"Know what my motto is? 'Chattering nonsense is an unambiguous sign of lacking intelligence!'" Barbara told the twins harshly and caused them to shut their mouths immediately. Everyone listens to Barbara. That's pretty much of a law among our 'clique'.
***************************** Introducing the reader 3 – ZPOV*******************************
"Gimme that…"
With a curse, Bob landed on the floor. Ian laughed and held up a picture. From the few glimpses I caught of it I could tell the blonde babe it showed was quite hot. A few months earlier…
"What's her name, Bob? Won't you even tell us your girlfriend's name?"
"She's not…" Bob's face was as red as a tomato by now.
"She's not his girlfriend," Jake grinned. "She's the waitress in the cocktail bar down his street. She's called Vivian." Bob hit Jake's leg angrily, then he made a strange sound and shook his hand in the air, muttering something like 'That leg's hard…'
"Secrets, Bob?" I said with a huge grin on my face. "How come I don't know her yet, huh?"
Ian helped Bob, his head still alarmingly red, to get back on his feet. He moved the picture back and forth a few times before shoving it back into Bob's pocket. "He was afraid you'd steal her, weren't ya?" he chuckled, patting both mine and Bob's shoulder.
My grin got even bigger. "If she's half as hot as she looks in that pic… I guess that could happen, yeah… Anyway, decent catch, dude!" It was a lie. It was ridiculous. I hadn't even looked at a girl in forever, yet 'stolen' one! Plus, I couldn't remember ever having dated a friend's girl! (Alright, Cody doesn't count.)
Bob blushed again. "Vivian's not my girlfriend…" He muttered. "Yet!" Jake said confidently. "You'll get her around. You always do." Ian and I made sounds that could be interpreted as agreeing. It was funny how Bob always got the girl he wanted – he didn't look hot at all, and I was quite sure I could still judge that.
"She has a boyfriend," Bob argued. "You guys should see him. He's … big!" He grimaced and made a strange move with his hands. "Honestly, if I were her, I'd be afraid he'd squeeze me to death by just hugging me!" We laughed, and after a brief minute, Bob laughed, too.
The bell rang, and slowly we made our way to the gym, still joking and teasing. For a moment, I wondered what we looked like to other people.
It was unimaginable Cody and his friends would punch and banter each other the way we did. It had happened more than just that a teacher would punish us for bullying a classmate. Then the 'victim' would laugh and tell them we were just kidding. Sometimes they believed it. Sometimes… not.
And I wondered how I looked like to others. To them, I was still the same old Zack. The one who played pranks on people. The one who took great care in acting cool to impress girls. The one who had a new girlfriend every week. But that wasn't me anymore. Especially not the girls part.
The old me had made a fool of himself whenever a babe passed him. The old me had looked at a girl, seen she was pretty and immediately started to flirt with her, not giving a damn on what she was like. The old me had been famous for his girl consume. The old me had been obsessed with money.
The old me had been an ordinary show-off. Life had been so much easier then.
*****************************Introducing the reader 4 - CPOV*******************************
I really don't understand how you can't like school. Sometimes I think that all these people are actually suffering from some kind of phobia. It makes them unable to enjoy being taught and getting smart and reduces them to superficial ignoramuses.
One of very few exceptions to this phobia is physical education, another mystery I will never comprehend. I like sports, but I don't like it in a dirty, reeking gym. And our teacher, Mr. Shaw, has a great collection of those disgusting 'tricots' which have never been washed and loves to make us wear them.
Mr. Shaw has to be about the only teacher at our school who doesn't like me. I have to say that it feels kind of weird. And everybody else keeps rubbing it in that I'm not very good at P.E. Okay, okay, I'll admit it: I'm lousy. Unlike Zack, who has always been the basketball star. Once, I even got a C in my report card!
P.E. is sheer torture for me. It wasn't any different that day.
From the moment I entered the stinky changing room, I didn't stop begging heaven to release me. That was the moment when I slipped on something I didn't want to identify and landed on my behind. Everybody laughed at me and I blushed deeply, hurrying to change in the darkest corner of the room.
It got worse when Zack and his friends arrived. Oh, don't get this wrong. I loved my brother, of course I did. But some of his friends could be really stupid. That Ian guy, for example. He liked to pick on 'strange' people. People who didn't fit in his scheme. People who were too complex for him to understand. People like me.
In Zack's defense I had to admit that he did tell them to keep it down and that it was part of his routine to get into fights defending me from some bully. I did appreciate that, and I was grateful. But I still thought it couldn't hurt if he looked for nicer friends, which I knew he would never do.
As they changed, they threw plastic bottles at each other, shouting loudly. One hit me in the face, and unfortunately, it was still pretty full. Another one hadn't been closed correctly and emptied itself mostly on me.
We had to run around the gym ten times. After that, Mr. Shaw noticed how wet I was and got angry at me for spattering drops of water on the floor. He made me do twenty push-ups in front of the class before he sent me off to the bathroom to dry my hair with toilet paper.
I did that very slowly and carefully, and when I came back, the others had started a basketball game. At first I was relieved because I knew Mr. Shaw wouldn't interrupt the game, but then he told me to get the horizontal bar and set it up all by myself.
Of course I managed to drop the bar on my foot, not from very high, but it still hurt. The teacher wouldn't allow me to go get an ice pad, but dearest Tyler pretended he was hurt and when he got a pad, he gave it to me. By the time Mr. Shaw noticed, my foot had already swollen enough to convince him that I wasn't pretending.
I could have gone home then, but I didn't want to miss chemistry, so I spent the rest of the class sitting on a bench. You'd think I was out of danger there. I wasn't. Actually, I was hit by two basketballs during ten minutes. These balls are vicious, I'm telling you – or, at least, so are the 'star players', also known as 'my classmates'.
**********************************The Game – ZPOV************************************
Many things had changed about me, but at least one had stayed the same: I still loved basketball. I liked the clear rules, how there was just right and wrong, cheating and scoring, winning and losing, with nothing in between. I liked the routine mixed with challenge, the excitement before and the exhaustion after the game.
When I was playing, I didn't have to think. My mind was, for once, allowed to be all blank, because my body knew what to do without advice, and it was pretty good at it. I didn't even need to think about tactics. I was in line with them automatically. Who needed a brain?
Basketball was one thing I was really good at, and I quite enjoyed that, especially – even if I'd never admitted that – because it was my only way to make Mom proud of me. But it was more than that. It was mercy. It meant sweet, sweet distraction from the problems lurking for me outside the gym.
It was a nice, warm afternoon in May. Mom and I stepped out of the gym. There were a few people standing out there, but not many; I'd been the last to take a shower. For one second I smiled at the beauty of the setting sun – something I wouldn't even have noticed months ago, especially not in such a moment.
But the next minute, I was completely taken by another beauty, one that made the sun look pretty old. Yeah, I know what this sounds like. Not like something Zachary Martin would even think. And, if you know the context, it might even sound vain. And, more importantly: Sick.
I didn't feel sick at all, just good, as I watched my twin brother walking towards us from where he'd been waiting. His hair was glowing in the sunlight and the smile on his face was so big you could think he had won some science award again.
"You did it, Zack!" He beamed, looking so beautiful it nearly hurt. "You were awesome!"
"Thanks, buddy" I said, keeping myself from being too happy. The thought that I was allowed to be happy because my team had just won the junior championship didn't occur to me, of course. I was not exactly the quickest grasper in my family… that was another one of the things that hadn't changed.
Cody gave me another smile; then he hugged me, and, seriously – it was way better than winning the championship.