11. Twin Stuff

"Wake up, I have to pissssssss!" Todd slapped his cheek chidingly.

Zack realized he had spent the entire night with his head in the other guy's lap. Todd had slept sitting upright somehow, letting him rest undisturbed. Zack groaned and shook his head furiously, his nightmares still too fresh. He was disoriented for a moment before realizing where he was. With a yawn, Zack stretched out his long, well-muscled arms and legs.

Todd was lifting Zack's head roughly off his lap dropping it back to the cushion with a plop before hurriedly jumping off the couch and running out the front door into the chilly morning air—shoeless—to take that urgent piss.

Zack was half yawning, half chuckling to himself when he was interrupted by the sound of his phone chiding him with unwanted alerts.

Ding…

Ding…

…

…

Ding.

Ding.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

Zack's huge hand shot down to his pant pocket, searching out his smartphone. The buzzing continued. One message. No, two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. He knew exactly who it was even before he flicked the phone open and confirmed his dread:

Fuck you Zack.

You fucking idiot.

Mom was a fucking noob for letting you stay at the house.

Answer me.

Idiot.

ZACK. YOU FUCKING IDIOT

CALL ME BACK NOW YOU FUCKER!

8======D

The time stamp log showed about two seconds between each text message, and Zack groaned involuntarily at the deluge.

Fucking. Bethany. No one got under Zack's skin quite like his twin sister.

No one.

He knew that twins were supposed to be close. Everyone had always expected them to have some sort of "special" bond. They had a special bond alright...

Bethany was a nightmare creature. He did his very best to avoid direct interaction with her. Everything with her was a competition—it always had been. She really couldn't stand losing, especially not to him. And she'd always taken that singular obsession to an eleven. All of Bethany was driven by the desire to dominate, and he'd always been afraid of her.

She'd even taken up swimming to compete with him, excelling to nationals and then abandoning it once she won as though the entire endeavor had been undertaken to assert her own supremacy, not even appearing to care about the sport itself.

It was one of thousands of examples of the same relentlessly competitive behavior that drove her, as though she could only feel more when he felt less, as though the whole purpose of Zack in their dyad was to serve her ever-starving ego. The last time he'd seen her had been some years prior; he'd been completely fine with that until now.

Zack stared at those angry texts for a long, hard moment, debating whether he could delete them and pretend they hadn't been delivered. But then he realized he had his read receipts turned on. And while his mind did come up with numerous flimsy excuses, he realized this wasn't something he could put off—though he very much wanted to.

YOU HAVE YOUR READ RECEIPTS ON, IDIOT!

ANSWER ME!

He glared at the messages. What he didn't want was Bethany getting involved in what was starting to swell up between him and Todd, or worse yet, her knowing about itat all. He would never live down hooking up with his stepbrother if she were to find out. At that moment, Zack heard Todd reenter the chalet, the door clapping shut as he returned from relieving himself.

"Something up?" Todd asked, eyes glancing across Zack, who was still stretched out on the couch staring at his phone.

"Someone, yeah," Zack mumbled, adding, "I assume your dad told you about Bethany?"

"Zack, my dad didn't even tell me about you," Todd said with a hint of irony in his voice, eyebrow raised.

How strange, he thought. But then Todd's dad was strange—the strangest man he'd ever met, actually. They hadn't struggled to get along, necessarily, but they hadn't gotten along either. Instead, there was just a big hole punched out of the space any relationship between the pair might have occupied. Zack hadn't really minded him until he'd come to learn about Todd.

"She's my sister. Twin sister, actually. Though…well… you'll see. Or maybe not, hopefully. Anyway, I need to call her back. She's pissed about the pig dude's mess or something. Mind a moment of privacy? There's a gym up in the loft if you want to fuck around up there?" Zack looked at Todd earnestly, hoping he wasn't being too off-putting for requesting a small bit of privacy to deal with what he knew would be a brief and messy conversation.

"Of course. Up there?" Todd pointed to the small ladder that led to the chalet's upper level, right beside the door to the bunk room.

"Don't expect 24-Hour Fitness," Zack said to Todd's back, the ginger already halfway up the ladder. Todd threw him a thumbs-up over his shoulder as he hefted himself up and over the edge, disappearing into the gym. Zack remained splayed out across the couch for a moment longer, floating there and unable to force himself to bring his fingers to hit "call." Eventually, after a bit more procrastination, he managed it, closing his eyes even as he hit the button.

"Fucker." The airy, nasal voice cut into him instantly, Bethany answering on the first ring. "You fucked up so hard. I took pictures. You fucking idiot. What the fuck did you do to the house? Is this a drug thing?" She was screaming now, and Zack hated how she sounded when she screamed, her voice whipping across him like a tornado rolling through a Midwestern town, leaving little, if any, order in its wake.

The tirade continued: "My boyfriend is here cleaning all this up. Your mess. Because he's actually a man! Not some little boy-child who still lives at home. Oh! Danny, sweetie! Do you want to come over here and say hi to my fuck-up of a brother?" she concluded in a sing-song voice.

"Beth, what do you want?" Zack grumbled, attempting patience. He was squeezing his temples furiously with a large thumb and forefinger as attempting to hold himself together, but he could feel the temper waggling out of him in the short, clipped way the words fell out of his mouth.

"I want you to fuckingcome home and clean this shit up, Zack," she retorted vehemently, her gusty voice seeming to push itself through the small phone speaker more forcefully now, into places in Zack's mind he really didn't want her to be able to access—like the places where he hid his feelings about anything and everything, always, for this very reason.

"And bring our step-brother with you." She added with a giggle.

"Yeah, that's not my mess, Bethany. I had nothing to do with it." He lied, wanting out of this conversation as soon as possible.

"Cool, Zack, everyone knows you fucked up. I know. Mom knows. Step-daddy-dumb-fuck knows. We talked for two hours last night all about your total and complete fuckery. Now come clean up this shit, ass. Oh sorry, what's that, Danny baby?" She turned her attention from the call, tone totally changing, continuing a hushed and mumbled conversation with whoever Danny was, apparently covering the speaker to disallow Zack from overhearing. He caught shards of a deep, cold voice chopping through the line but could not decipher exactly what those chilly words were imploring. That voice was oddly familiar…but then she spoke again, distracting him from the notion.

"Where are you staying, little bro? Grandma and Grandpa's, I assume?" She sounded impatient now,

"Bethany… I need to go. Yes. At Grandma and—" But the line disconnected abruptly. She'd hung up on him, apparently only interested in the potential of confirming where he was.

Zack tossed his phone on the ground, unsettled by the call. He was dismayed to hear the crack of his screen taking the brunt of the momentum as it skidded across the hardwood floor. He couldn't help but allow frustration to flow over him, to steep himself in it, wondering for the millionth iteration how they had never managed to get along about anything.

Zack stared in a daze up at the vaulted wood-lined ceilings of the cabin, fixating on one of the two skylights that dotted the roof. The clouds he spied through it—flitting by far above him—were thin and airy, their lightness an affront to the heavy tides that roiled inside him.

Fucking. Bethany, he concluded harshly, refusing to complicate his thoughts any more than that.

And then, even as he forced her out of his mind, Zack realized he'd heard the steady clink… clink… clink of someone doing reps on the old athletic equipment up in the loft for some time now. He felt the anger he had been directing toward his sister evaporate instantly like so much hot air. In its place, Zack felt his—admittedly sizable—dick jump at those sounds.

At times, being easily distracted isn't the worst trait.

Zack was off the couch in a flash.

When he heaved himself up to the loft, he was surprised and excited to find the normally modest Todd shirtless, doing a set of incline bench presses on Zack's grandfather's old-school equipment.

"How goes?" Zack inquired as he admired Todd's tight, well-formed pecs hungrily from across the room.

Todd was raising and lowering the Olympic bar, stacked with numerous plates, with a look of determination on his face that Zack found arousing as fuck. He made his way over into the spotter position near Todd's head while continuing to be impressed by the amount of weight Todd was moving up and down with seeming ease.

"Easy, there you go." Zack encouraged. "Breathe."

Todd pounded out a few more reps.

Zack found himself very much enjoying this closer view as Todd's pecs flexed and twitched with the strain of the movement, the ginger's tight ab muscles joining in unison and contracting tightly as the bar went up and down. Wisps of golden-amber body hair, fine as spun gold, trailed down into the deep grooves that disappeared tantalizingly into the black sweat shorts Zack had lent him a few days prior. His arms were bulging with sinewed muscle as Todd neared the end of his set.

"Urghble…!" Todd blurted on his final rep.

Zack helped him as he pushed himself to failure, raising the bar with him and securing it overhead.

"Atta-boy!" Zack boosted as Todd sat upright on the bench, leaning his back slightly into its upright position, chest fully pumped from the lift.

The bench setup was positioned under the big squat rack cage Zack had spent countless hours using during high school summers. The pull-up bar, taped and chalky, had been his favorite movement, the exercise perfectly tailored for the muscle groups he'd hyper-developed in his pursuit of swimming. Zack couldn't help but feel a swelling in his shorts, his massive cock stirring with carnal appetites aroused at the sight of Todd using that same equipment.

He saw Todd's eyes fixing on the mounding bulge in his joggers. From the other guy's seated position on the weight bench, Zack's crotch was at eye level. Zack allowed himself to swell a little more, watching Todd while Todd watched him. Then, slowly, unable and unwilling to stop himself, Zack started to inch down the waistband of the joggers with an errant thumb, pulling them first out, and then down. The fire in Todd's eyes erupted at the sight of him.

As Zack freed himself—his enormous cock swung heftily out of his pants. The smaller man's eyes flickered up to Zack's, half in awe, half in sheer lust, before Zack felt what he'd been wanting to feel since that first steamy night in Snail:Todd's small, tight mouth wrapping itself around the enormous head of his thick cock. The wetness. The warmth. The softness. He shuddered in ecstasy as Todd gagged on him.

Todd moaned into the head of his cock in reply, barely able to fit him into his tiny mouth. Zack felt himself thrusting involuntarily, frantically, stuffing Todd so ridiculously he could see his eyes bulge and water with strain and effort and wanting. But Zack couldn't stop himself now. He didn't want to. Todd had freed himself, too, and was furiously jerking his pale cock furiously as he tried to fit more than just half of Zack's manhood into his mouth. Zack grasped at those cloud curls fanatically, forcing Todd to take more of him, forcing himself deeper into that tight, warm space.

Todd was worshipping Zack, running his mouth along the length of him, twisting and turning, and finding all the places Zack needed to be touched in order to get close. Sucking first one massive, smooth nut, then the other. Biting at the tender skin here and there and sending bubbles of pleasure floating across Zack's universe. Todd flicked his tongue across them while using his free hand to continue rubbing the shaft of Zack's monster, spending time along the length of it, gently and deftly inventing infinite combinations of stimulation as Zack bucked and thrust, running his hand over Todd's thick chest, loving how it felt.

Zack felt Todd return his glans to his mouth in earnest, moaning a vibrating, volcanic rumble around his shaft. Zack cried out—and in that sublime moment, he felt himself lose it, cumming explosively into Todd's mouth. The torrent of cum caused Todd to gag, his own cock spurting now as he struggled to swallow the copious load Zack had just shot into him. Todd let him fall from his mouth—not wasting a drop of him in the process—grinning up at Zack as he wiped the corner of it with the back of his hand. The fit ginger leaned back into the slightly inclined bench seat with a deep, contented look on his face, a smile edging along his mouth, eyes slightly sleepy, like his entire day could be over now, and he'd be fine with that.

"Nice set, bro," Todd said faintly.

Zack weakly pulled the joggers back up, tucking his half-hard-on clumsily back inside them, looking around sheepishly for something to help Todd clean up with.

That had been a great fuck.