Chapter Text
When Ryland had gotten a text from Colt, saying that he was about to come to San Francisco for a week or two while they were shooting for a new movie, he had been more than excited to see his twin brother after a few months of sparse texts and voice calls. Their respective job made it difficult to align their schedules properly, and while Ryland wasn't tied to a filming crew, his job needed him to stay at his desk, grading or organising things in the safety of his apartment most weekends.
He recalled the first few years after they decided to move out of their shared apartment after university.
It had been ugly, messy. Heartwrenching. It had reminded them both of a past they wished to forget, of another part of them torn out of their soul. It was unbearable. But their choices in life forced them to go to different universities. Still, they found themselves back at night in their apartment. Then, one left the other, but they remained around. And then, slowly, they drifted apart. One left the city, came back, and then left for good. The other left as well, and their shared apartment was no more.
They got around it and caught up whenever they could, but other than a weekend during spring, summer and winter break (assuming they were lucky enough that Colt wasn't busy out of the States or somewhere out of Ryland's budget), it was about three times a year.
Which was why when, finally, their schedule perfectly matched, two weeks in the same city during summer break when Ryland was free, they could have cried.
And when finally Ryland entered the movie set, with a badge kindly sent by Jody by mail not even a week ago so that he could easily go in and out of the set without issue, he had been able to see Colt in action from afar.
Seeing his brother getting flung left and right in the air, taking a beating and then harshly landing on the floor, had both made him widen his eyes in fear and worry, but also feel a rush of something else sparkling in his belly.
A thumb up, people milling around Colt while he leapt back on his feet and listening to a bulky black man talking to him…
And finally, their eyes met.
There was nothing but joy, fondness and absolute adoration when Colt shouted something and rushed towards him like a bulldozer, tackling him to the ground and wrapping an arm around his waist, the other at the back of his head, before they went tumbling down to the floor, laughing.
Afterwards, they were excitedly chatting about this and that, catching up for all those months without seeing each other. It was a mess of introducing Ryland to others while the crew gaped at their identical face, and of Jody yelling for afar, her megaphone thrust in her hands for Colt to 'get his ass back here and be prepared, the movie isn't going to make itself!'
A lingering glance, both fond and regretful, when Colt let go of Ryland's hand, and left a trail of fire in its wake, burning inside his veins. And then they were back to work while Ryland watched, fondness and something else growing more and more intense each time he looked at Colt jumping and crashing against things.
Even when they were children, it was mostly his twin who got hurt. Either by accident, because he tried to overachieve, or because he wanted to fight Ryland's battles. Which he would always be thankful for, the overprotectiveness was cute in most cases, but Ryland could also throw a few mean punches, thank you very much.
Still, at the end of the day, it was always Ryland who entered their shared bedroom when they were children, or knocked at Colt's door in their shared apartment when they were older (the very last dredge of decency they scrambled to put up in the face of society, not that it prevented them from sneaking inside the other's bed in the privacy of the night). Colt would always try to hide his pain, bandage his own wounds and bruises, but Ryland would always come, barge into the room if needed (he knew how to lockpick doors since then), and carefully climb up the bed, take Colt's face in his hands and slowly lick the blood still wet on his split lip or broken nose. He would lap and swipe and try to clean what he could, before pulling up the small aid kit they kept in their bathroom and carefully but silently applied antiseptic and band-aids everywhere else.
Then he'd go and hug Colt tighter and shakily breathe his brother's wounded scent, drowning in the firm, possessive grip they had on each other while the twange of blood pulsed on his tongue.
Now, though, he could see that there was a whole team dedicated to making sure Colt was in top shape at all times.
Ryland was glad Colt was taken care of. He deserved that at the very least for breaking his body over and over again. Though he always came out unscathed, grinning and with a sort of maniac energy each time he left the set after yet another successful and adrenaline-packed stunt.
He was greedily accepted back at Ryland's side once the shooting for today ended, and they walked side by side to a nearby restaurant.
They talked, they laughed, and they shared smiles while their legs and ankles bumped against each other, since the restaurant looked more like a dingy bar, and the plastic round table had barely enough space for their dishes.
Then, they walked outside, breathed the cold air, but their mixed scent followed closely behind as they walked back to the movie set.
When they slunk back inside, Colt had a hand clasped gently around Ryland's wrist. He wasn’t letting him go and dragged him inside his trailer despite Ryland's soft protests that he was tired and wanted to sleep early. His brother only smiled and tugged him again. Ryland followed, his words more a pasty decoration than true complaints. It shone wrong under the brewing swirl of more behind his glasses and reflecting in Colt's soft yet edged expression.
The door clicked shut, and then, Ryland was being kissed within an inch of his life, hands coming up to riffle through his hair and nudging the glasses to the side. His own hands came to rest against Colt's forearms as an anchor as he eagerly answered back, before he went and encircled his arms around his brother's neck.
When they broke away for breath, they rested their forehead against each other’s.
"Finally," Colt whined, playing with the end of Ryland's hair, tugging lightly at it and sending more sparks down his neck, stoking the heat inside his chest. "Waited for so long just for that, that's unfair," he said petulantly, going in for another small peck.
"I missed you too," Ryland just chuckled before he wriggled out of Colt's embrace.
He didn't go far. One second, he was trying to walk deeper inside the trailer and air out the scent of arousal that began to clog the interior of the wagon, the next moment, he was tugged by the shoulder by an insistent hand until Colt plastered himself against Ryland's back, making sure that not even an ounce of skin was left untouched. Shoulders against shoulders, chest against back, hips against hips. He knocked Ryland's feet apart with the tip of his shoe, nuzzling against the crook of his neck while his arms encircled his waist, possessively hugging him.
Ryland hummed at the feel of his twin so close, but Colt just pushed Ryland until they awkwardly began walking. They stopped only when he ended up being cornered by the low plastic table screwed against the wall of the trailer. He softly cursed, trying to regain his balance when his thighs knocked against it, and he had to put both his hands on the white surface. Colt easily followed his movement, pressing his weight against his back while he felt hands sneaking under his tucked-in shirt, massaging and squeezing the meat of his waist and near his ribs, prying out an involuntary chuckle out of Ryland.
He grasped Colt's forearms, squeezing them and delighting in feeling them squish his middle even more tightly as they hugged. He hummed happily when he pushed back against his twin and felt the other's hands continue to map the side of his chest and flick his nipples underneath his shirt, before they slowly slithered down.
First, he put his fingers across his belly, nail catching on his belly button, before they reached down, down, down……
When his fingers reached the hem of Ryland's pants, they sneaked under it, under his belt, and Ryland's hips jerked to the side from the sudden contact with his skin. But Colt was relentless, and he followed his movements, keeping them attached and stuck together from head to toe. Ryland tried to turn his head, but was blocked by Colt, still nosing at the underside of his jaw and making sure their scent glands were rubbed together.
Ryland stretched his neck upwards with a long sigh, welcoming the onslaught of pheromones. He loved being wrapped in the other's scent so much, and he had dearly missed it while Colt was everywhere but by his side. As soon as he had entered the set earlier that day, Colt had practically jumped on him and slathered him immediately with his scent, so heavy it would have smelled like he had been marked by a possessive mate rather than an overexcited brother happy to see his twin after a few months of separation.
They continued to shuffle from one side to another, Colt trying to press even further into Ryland, whose upper thighs dug uncomfortably inside the edge of the table.
There wasn’t a lot of room when he still had his pants on, but Colt had made quick work of his belt, chucking it off, and he could almost feel the burn of the leather being swiftly pulled off his pants' hooks, before fingers went back to their appropriate place. The flyer did not stand a chance either, and the sound of it dragging down was as damning as it brought a long shiver of sharp anticipation down his spine and pooling inside his groin.
His hips involuntarily bucked as soon as his cock was pulled out of his boxers, pushing the fabric down to his balls but staying on his hips, the elastic band a deep, red line over his overheated skin, while another hand went downwards, between the interior of his thighs, and then near his cunt, parting his folds and teasing the sensitive skin.
Ryland threw his head back with a pant, arousal shimmering all over his skin while he tried to move his dick inside the ring of Colt’s fingers, frowning at dryness, but quickly forgot about it when his brother’s hands swiped at the tip to gather some pre-cum, making the glide easier. The sparks of pleasure were more than welcome, though his movements were mostly prevented by Colt’s unrelenting weight against his back, only managing a few ridiculously short, aborted thrusts. It wasn’t enough. He tilted his head to the side to knock his temple against Colt's, trying to find the will to stay lucid enough to admonish his wayward twin. His cheeks burned, and he struggled to move his hips the way he wanted, fighting against Colt’s hold as much as he drowned in it.
“Colt, stop, not that here,” he muttered, but the last word was cut off by a sharp hiss when Colt began to move two fingers, his index and middle fingers, further down and past his balls before going inside without so much as a warning.
He didn't really need to. Ryland was so pent up that he was already leaking wet, loose and ripe for the taking.
Colt smiled against his nape and playfully licked a long stripe, from the bottom of his neck to his left earlobe, where he caught it with his teeth.
“Doesn't seem like you wanted me to stop,” he said in a low voice, hot breath fanning against his baby hair.
Ryland shivered, gripping the edge of the small plastic table tighter and flinching away from (or in?) Colt's touch when the other's hand encircling his cock swiped a thumb over his slit and scratched the delicate, oversensitive skin with his nail. At the same time, the two fingers inside his cunt delved a bit deeper, down to the first knuckle, and already crooked his fingers, pressing his navel outwards. Not deep enough to touch his g-spot, but still so close that if Colt wanted to, he could shift just right and Ryland would see stars.
Colt knew his body so well he’d probably be able to make Ryland come with just one finger. He had done it already with his tongue, forcing three orgasms in a row during one of his heats, and with just his cock more times than they could count, coming untouched. One memorable time, he’d managed to wrench one powerful climax after ruthlessly toying with his nipples and neck alone. That one had made Ryland burrow under his blanket in embarrassment, slick dribbling down his legs, while Colt smugly laughed and hugged the bundle of fabric his brother had become.
That was probably why he expertly dodged his g-spot and instead, continued to explore and scissor only the upper layers of his leaking pussy, strings of translucent slick beginning to leak out and make a mess of his pants.
“Colt,” Ryland tried again to complain, but it sounded more like a whine than anything. "That's where you work, have some decency!"
"No one comes inside without my permission anyway," he answered, voice muffled, "We're fine and we both want that."
He tugged sharply on Ryland's cock as if to prove his point, pinching around his head just hard enough to thread the line between pleasure and pain and making Ryland open his mouth in a silent moan, trying to jerk his hips away from the sharp sensation. His ass pressed back against the obvious thick bulge digging into his backside, and Colt hissed at the sensation.
The fingers inside him pressed more intently against his walls in playful retaliation.
"We are not doing that in your workspace, what if someone-"
"Relax, it's the middle of the night, everyone is sleeping or is away, and the curtains are closed."
Despite the obvious fact that his twitching dick was rock hard and Colt continued to play with his leaking pussy, the sound of slick damning enough, Ryland still frowned at his brother’s nonchalant deflection.
He was about to continue complaining and try to convince him to stop, when Colt's hand around his cock disappeared and instead, gripped Ryland's jaw to turn it to the side and caught him in a deep kiss meant to shut him up.
At the same time, with his other hand, he struck true deep inside his cunt with the tip of his nail, finding with deadly precision the small bump that made Ryland cry out a wheezing noise. They almost knocked teeth at the sudden flinch, his muscles locking in and walls squeezing around the crooked fingers in a vice. Colt re-adjusted their position, pressing his crotch in an attempt to gain more friction as well on his clothed erection, and sighing when it relieved the throbbing he felt down to his feet and up his throat.
He tilted his head just right at the same time so that he could messily suck on Ryland's lolled-out tongue.
"You were saying?" he coyly asked with a smirk when he pulled back just enough to look at Ryland's unseeing eyes.
A new wave of affection curled tighter in his guts, and he began to peck at Ryland's face, not truly aiming at something in particular. His nose, his temple, his jaw, his lips. He just loved him so much.
He made sure to change the pressure of his fingers inside Ryland, scratching the interior sometimes, scisorring before going back to press intently against the bundle of nerves that he could feel swelling from the constant stimulation. His other hand was still stroking Ryland's cheek.
"You... You're uncorrigible..." Ryland panted, though it came out more slurred than he meant to, his breath hitching each time Colt bucked his hips and rocked Ryland against the table, his naked cock rubbing against the plastic table.
The small gasping noises and moans he managed to wrench out of him were a drug to Colt’s aroused mind, his confined cock painfully aching. He wanted to take his pants off, grab Ryland's hips and enter him, one deep slide inside, and call himself home. He was sure he wouldn't even need more preparation based on the huge wet stain that grew in the folds of his ruined pants.
Ryland had attempted to turn around at some point, probably to try and attend to Colt's raging erection himself, but the older twin had clamped his arms around Ryland's waist even more tightly and lurched them forward, making the youngest cry out as he was bent over, Colt easily following but never stopping with his ministrations: his crooked fingers moved, harshly hooking from the inside and pulling against Ryland's pelvis, as if trying to pull his crotch with just the force of his fingers, while grinding his palm against his puffed-out clit.
Ryland managed to get back up from being crushed against the table, but Colt did not let him completely straighten up, redoubling his efforts by harshly rutting against Ryland's ass, panting.
"Sh- Stop, wait-!" Ryland tried to gasp, but he unconsciously widened his legs anyway for better access, following Colt's thrusts and rocking back against the other, pulling out a moan from both of them each time they met.
"Oh come on Ry, you can do it," Colt mockingly said, rolling his eyes dramatically while hooking his chin against the other's shoulder, breathing heavily through his nose and blinking the gathering sweat away from his eyes.
The hand that had been gripping his jaw went back under his t-shirt and began to mess with his nipples, hand splayed wide and using the calluses of his hands to stimulate both buds at the same time, rolling the two around. He stopped his hooking motion as well with his other hand and instead, redoubled his efforts on Ryland's g-spot, trying to find an angle in which his wrist could also catch Ryland's neglected cock.
"Come on, my dear lil' brother," he cooed, provoking a whole new unrestrained shiver to run through both of them, "Come on, say it, I know you can swear, do it, nobody is here to hear you except me."
Ryland's glasses clattered onto the table when he hung his head low at the onslaught of sensations, his hands scrabbling to scratch and caress Colt's arms in the same breath. He tried at some point to slip a hand between them to reach Colt's erection once again, his all-good and responsible younger brother wanting to give back what was gifted to him freely. But Colt did not permit it: they would not be pried away from each other, and instead, used his teeth to worry at Ryland's glands situated on his nape, mouthing at it in a stern bite. He gently and slowly shook his locked jaw as soon as he found a good grip, which normally was meant to make unruly omegas instantly submit. It worked perfectly well: Ryland's hand fell to the side, chastised, and saliva began to dribble out of his open mouth.
Based on the increasing strength of Ryland's trembling, he was pretty close, and Colt continued to tease and coo in his brother's ear, alternating between loving words, fond nicknames and trying to get a rise at his defiant twin. He pinched and pulled one last time at the burgeoning and inflated nipples before he unceremoniously stuffed his hand back in Ryland's pants and boxers, and began to stroke his dick anew. The poor thing was already leaking, hard and angry red from the friction of the table against his sensitive skin. He made sure to squeeze in those places, revelling in the almost sobbing gasps that elicited this particular action, before he continued to torture it by twisting this and that way, pinching and massaging his testicles, before going back up and meaningly digging the tip of his index finger inside his slit, prying out pre-cum to make the glide easier.
At some point, he switched his hands. The one completely covered in transparent, warm slick covered Ryland’s dick with his own mess while the other went to plunge once again inside his cunt, not even waiting before he jammed the swollen bundle of nerve with all his strength. This time, he didn’t release the pressure even once, producing endless waves of overstimulation to rush back up to Ryland’s brain in an explosion of pleasure that made him thrash around, knocking his knees against the underside of the table, still trapped inside Colt’s suffocating yet loving embrace.
All of those added sensations were enough to send Ryland over the edge.
The sharp cry was delicious to hear, one of the most addictive sounds Colt ever got to hear, while he felt and held onto his twin's jerking form, feeling more slick dribbling past his hand and into his pants, and saw the cock he was still lazily stroking shooting a mess of semen onto the table. It was followed by Ryland’s high-pitched wail when he continued to furiously stroke it, mindless of the fact that Ryland had already cummed, his dick trying to push more semen out without managing to. He could almost hear liquid splash onto the ground between their legs and Ryland's soul leave his body when he arched his back, stretched his neck and searched blindly for Colt's mouth to devour.
Colt happily linked their mouth together, breathing against his lips as if the air they shared was the only thing keeping them alive.
In some way, it was the truth. They couldn't leave without the other. The distance they suffered through all those months ago culminated in the wrecked moans he got out of Ryland's mouth while he tried to ride the waves of scorching ecstasy, only able to achieve absolute completion with Colt, him, and only him. Not even Linda, whom Ryland had confessed to trying to date once, only months after they had broken up (and which resulted in Ryland getting wrecked and unable to walk for days, Colt overcome by such a seething and blinding jealousy that he had wanted to reclaim what had been stolen from him), had managed to wriggle anything more than a shy blush from his dear Ryland.
The mere knowledge of it pulled Colt into his own precipice of elation, joy, adoration and desire for more, which ultimately threw him off balance, feeling an explosion of white-hot pleasure that made him curl inwards and around Ryland’s body.
He violently pushed against Ryland. He wanted to merge with him, he wanted him so fucking much, he needed more, so much more than Ryland could ever give. This never-ending want would be his undoing, and as he grinded against Ryland's ass, he finally scrunched his eyes closed when he felt Ryland's tongue swipe at his cheek in a reminiscent gesture from their childhood days, shy and uncertain, just at the corner of his mouth.
"Colt, you're so fucking good to me," Ryland finally whispered against his lips.
Bursts of pleasure surged to his brain in an instant, and he keened low in his throat, breath stolen from his lungs as both his hands encircled Ryland's waist again, uncaring for the messy, wet inprints he probably left on his stupid science pun shirt.
Through his blurry vision, moist from the overwhelming emotions that threatened to spill over, he indulged in the delirious image of Ryland walking out of his trailer, dishevelled and absolutely drenched and stained by his own fluids, which Colt so easily wrenched out of him. He thought of him slowly moving around, still feeling the lingering touches of his brother's fingers, relentlessly massaging and digging in his insides, forcing Ryland to walk with a slightly wider gait. He could perfectly picture in his mind the flushed expression on his face that had yet to calm down into his usual nervous, nerdy air about him. People seeing him and knowing instantly he had been manhandled or at least was left winded for some reason.
The look on Ryder's fucking face when he would see Ryland walking away, smelling of arousal and not even sparing that joke of an actor a single glance, mind stuck back inside Colt's trailer, and the love he poured and gave and gifted and drowned and spilt all over his twin.
He unconsciously tightened his grip around Ryland, enough to make the other’s bones grind against each other and grinned against the other's neck possessively, grinding his overstimulated cock, grimacing at the feel of his pants and the sticky cum inside his boxers, but humming contentedly when Ryland produced one single tired ‘oof’ at the manhandling, readjusting their positions, but not minding one bit as an arm went to stroke Colt's hair.
They stayed plastered against each other, dirty and messy, uncaring, and rocking from one foot to the other in the aftermath of their climax.
That was, until Colt opened his big, loud mouth, smug and smirking, "So you can swear! I knew it."
Ryland's answering smack only made them both chuckle in the tranquillity of Colt's trailer.
Their scent was thoroughly mixed together, and Colt happily took it all in while Ryland finally got to turn around, his brother reluctantly easing his grip after one last insistent tug, and began to peck at Colt's neck in retaliation for the irritated mark he'd received on his own nape.
"I hope you have a bed, I'm not walking back to my apartment in this state," Ryland said, though his voice carried no shame or annoyance, only satisfaction and a lilt of tiredness obvious in the corner of his eyes.
"Well, I hope you're not expecting a double bed then," Colt answered, swiping his nose against Ryland's fondly.
"No, want to be with you, close," he bluntly admitted.
Colt always loved this version of Ryland, much more malleable and honest, less prone to twitching and snark at others, treasuring and indulging it as much as he could.
"Yeah, me too,” he just murmured, “Let's."
Ryland hugged him tightly, and Colt naturally answered in kind.