Author: Ponderosa (ponderosa@dragonworld.com)
Fandom: Matrix Reloaded
Pairing: Ghost Twins (Twincest)
Archive: Ask me.
Warning: [R] Slash. Lime. Some form of incest.
Spoilers: Yes.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to their respective copyright owners, like the Wachowski Bros. Plot, if you can call it that, belongs to me.
Notes: Link to my accompanying pervy twincest fanart can be found in my LJ (url in profile)
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Phase
The Merovingian turns to look at me. His eyes sweep up and down my frame, ensuring that there is nothing less than impeccable about my person. Naturally, he can find no flaws.
"Where is your other half?" he asks.
I turn my head and indicate the far door with a look.
"With Persephone," he concludes, and I nod a yes. That smile I have come to recognize as lecherous crosses the Merovingian's face. He is quite the libertine.
"And how long will your brother be gone?" he asks.
You are due to return shortly, but obviously that isn't the real question. "Persephone desires an afternoon of solitude."
"Wonderful," he says, his eyes already having long forgotten me and staring intently at the object of his desire. This one is prettier than most, and possesses a visible aura of innocence. She is perfect, he is no doubt thinking, for spending a liesurely afternoon with and breaking her down one virtuous layer at a time.
"Take the rest of the day," he tells me as he rises to his feet. I am dismissed with the wave of a hand.
Freed of my obligations, I go to the mansion. To our room. I desire only one thing: to wait for you, my brother.
When did it begin? When did I first think of you in such human terms, rather than as a part of my own program? When did you become a sibling, however incestuous, instead of merely an extension of myself? The answer eludes me... us.
The anticipation of your return builds in me. I can feel you drawing closer. The familiarity of your code floats amongst the vast multitudes that make up this world, and my entire being resonates as the distance between us shrinks. When you step into the halls of the mansion, it becomes sweet torture to remain waiting where I am.
Phasing through the door is a whim that would be frowned upon if our employer were to see, but as we both know, he is occupied. Ethereal and beautiful, you glide into the room, regaining form as you come to me.
"We have the afternoon free," I say.
"Yes, we do," you reply.
The deep carpet muffles your steps as you cross the room. I rise on my knees at the foot of our bed, hungry for your kiss.
"I hate it..." I say, sliding my hands up your chest to loosen your tie.
"...when we're apart," you finish. The words slide into my mouth shortly before your tongue.
There is no more need for words as our mouths mesh together. We move together perfectly, with no fumbling or awkwardness in our task as the pile of discarded clothing grows higher beside the bed.
Your hand glides across my spine as I roll you onto your back. I kiss a slow path across your smooth chest. Pale and perfect, you arch against me.
Whatever we have become, it is a wonderful thing.
"Yes it is," you agree.
Owari