Symmetry

This is what goes on when the world thinks we’re asleep.
I stare through lust-colored eyes at my mirror image, my twin, my brother. I once thought it was strange to feel so attracted to someone so similar to myself, yet the more I looked at him the more I realized how different we really are.
Kaoru claims it was I who first initiated our sinful love, but I distinctly remember his soft whispers and tentative questions. It is he, in fact, who often sets our games in motion.
So it comes to this, me waiting at the edge of the bed as Kaoru pulls on his pajamas, even though he knows this is completely unnecessary. Maybe it’s because I like to be teased.
He flops ungracefully next to me, stretching himself out purposefully so that the skin of his bare stomach entices me. And it always does, no matter how many times I’ve seen it.
I wait until he says, “Hikaru, come here,” before crawling over to him. All he has to do is look at me with those sultry golden eyes and I know exactly what he wants. Two pairs of lips curl into matching grins and collide.
I am demanding and aggressive; he is patient, slow, and taunting. Our kiss becomes a game, just like everything else in our relationship. I press our bodies together, attacking his mouth relentlessly, recklessly, stealing the breath from his lungs. Kaoru tears away, still close enough for me to feel the presence of his lips but not enough to make contact. He stares at me in complete arousal, teasing me with hot puffs of air and soft caresses of his lips but it’s not enough.
I let him toy with me until I can’t take it anymore. I force him to kiss me properly, sliding his cotton shirt up as far as I can without breaking the connection. He drives his hips upward into mine and the friction makes me moan. I have to sit up and remove our shirts, because the heat in this room is unbearable.
“Hikaru…”
One word says everything he needs to say. I smile.
I kiss the tender flesh of his neck now, dismissing the temptation to leave my mark there (Haruhi would be the first to notice). My hand slips beneath his pajamas and brings him to full attention as my lips travel slowly downward. Kaoru is whimpering in the most adorable way.
I take pity on him and remove the rest of our clothes. “I need your spit, Kaoru,” I say lecherously.
“That’s gross, oniichan,” he replies casually, but knows what is expected of him. I’m on my knees, watching eagerly as he crawls toward me and takes me into his mouth. I know from experience just how talented Kaoru is, but unfortunately this pleasure will only last a moment. In seconds the warmth is gone, and without even being asked he takes my index and middle fingers and performs the same procedure. Sometimes we use lotion, but it’s not as fun. Being able to watch Kaoru suck on my fingers suggestively increases my arousal anyway.
He leaves me a lingering kiss and turns around on all fours. I waste no time in preparing him, and he remains quiet knowing the pleasure he is about to receive for his obedience.
I used to get nervous at this point, so afraid of hurting him. But he whispers his encouragement as I hover over him, staring at the taut muscles of his back. Fingers are slowly, slowly, slowly replaced by my aching erection and I’m temporarily blinded by how exquisitely tight this feels.
Kaoru groans, now accustomed to the pleasure more than the pain. I can only gasp.
I take a moment to regain my balance and rake my fingers down his spine. When we decide, without ever speaking, that we’re both ready, I start to move. Out, enough to gain momentum, then back in.
The first few thrusts are always experimental, in search of the perfect speed, depth, angle… God, angle is everything. When I’m able to hit that spot that makes him cry out in ecstasy, the sound and feeling of his pleasure magnifies my own tenfold.
We establish a rhythm the way only twins know how. At some point I attempt to pump his erection to meet each of my thrusts, but the frenzy of our lovemaking is too much for me to handle. He’s moaning for me to fuck him harder even though he doesn’t mean it, clutching a pillow because his arms have given out. Eventually we both go into sensory overload, and in a rare occurrence arrive at simultaneous orgasms. The air explodes with our blissful cries.
I’m frozen inside him, resisting the urge to wipe my hand off on our freshly washed comforter, though my attempts at keeping it clean are probably futile anyway. Eventually our breathing slows and we pull away from each other, Kaoru collapsing onto his stomach and I falling onto my back next to him. Our heartbeats are rapid but together.
A muffled, exhausted “I love you, Hikaru” drifts from beneath my brother’s smushed face. I erupt into a fit of weary giggles, and there are a few tickle fights and another make-out session before we ever make it to the shower. I make a note for us to wash our own bedsheets this time.