(no subject)
Title: Share and Progress
Fandom: Homestuck
Characters: John Egbert x 2
Kink: Mirrors/doubles
Content notes: Characters under the age of 18, age not referred to. No other notes apply.
A/N: …so in theory this would be part of a longer story involving how there came to be two Johns. Maybe eventually I'll get back to it!
The ship is big, but the problem with having your very own twin is that you both tend to go to the same places when you’re upset. It’s what you both know, after all. You grimace when you hear the sounds of Ghostbusters playing, but- you can at least agree about this. Right?
Other John glances at you when you open the door and shifts as you come over, making a little space for you to sit in. “Hey,” he says as you come over, your hand on the back of the couch for a moment, considering whether it’s worth getting yourself another bowl of popcorn or trying to share. “It’s just started getting good.” He gestures to the empty space, sitting up. “Come on. We can share. Right?”
“I guess,” you say, and sit down, arms wrapped around yourself for the moment, attention divided between him and the screen. He pushes the popcorn bowl your way, one foot nudging against your leg, attention on the screen again, which gives you an opportunity to let the sound of Bill Murray’s voice relax you as you turn most of your attention to him.
It’s weird, because he has your nose and eyes and the same way of laughing at stuff, face crinkling, and it makes you hurt because- there’s reasons you haven’t been looking in the mirror except to shave, and that’s your face, those are your expressions, where Jade is Jade, just different enough from you, just enough herself. Instead of saying anything, you reach out for a handful of popcorn and crunch down savagely, trying to focus on the movie.
His eyes flicker to you for a moment, and he nudges his foot against you again. You think, this is stupid, and reach out to brush your fingers against his ankle, because it’s you and him and Jade and Davesprite and Nanna and Jaspers and the hell of a lot of consorts and carapaces who are not exactly the brightest sparks in the universe and definitely don’t have the same kind of appreciation for cinema you guys do. You’re not exactly presented with an abundance of choice.
He shifts, because having the popcorn bowl on his leg isn’t actually that convenient for him, and you end up moving over into his space to follow it. Only it’s actually comfortable leaning against each other, the two of you sharing heat, taking turns reaching for the popcorn, and by the time it runs out you’re almost curled around each other, your head tucked under his chin as the two of you watch the Stay Puft Man going after cars, and you’re not getting up to make more and miss any of this, and neither is he. It’s weird to have someone who gasps at the same things you do, relaxes at the same point- but that’s to be expected, right? He has the same experiences, and as everyone on screen relaxes and things move into the end, you turn your head to look at his, reaching up to touch his face. He's you, but separate, and it feels odd, seeing your hand touch yourself but not feeling the sensation. At least not until he raises his eyebrows and brings one hand up to stroke your cheek, salt still coating the tips of his fingers. “What’re you doing?” he asks.
You raise your eyebrows right back at him, because he’s doing it now too, but don’t protest, grinning instead. “Want to find out?”
Fandom: Homestuck
Characters: John Egbert x 2
Kink: Mirrors/doubles
Content notes: Characters under the age of 18, age not referred to. No other notes apply.
A/N: …so in theory this would be part of a longer story involving how there came to be two Johns. Maybe eventually I'll get back to it!
The ship is big, but the problem with having your very own twin is that you both tend to go to the same places when you’re upset. It’s what you both know, after all. You grimace when you hear the sounds of Ghostbusters playing, but- you can at least agree about this. Right?
Other John glances at you when you open the door and shifts as you come over, making a little space for you to sit in. “Hey,” he says as you come over, your hand on the back of the couch for a moment, considering whether it’s worth getting yourself another bowl of popcorn or trying to share. “It’s just started getting good.” He gestures to the empty space, sitting up. “Come on. We can share. Right?”
“I guess,” you say, and sit down, arms wrapped around yourself for the moment, attention divided between him and the screen. He pushes the popcorn bowl your way, one foot nudging against your leg, attention on the screen again, which gives you an opportunity to let the sound of Bill Murray’s voice relax you as you turn most of your attention to him.
It’s weird, because he has your nose and eyes and the same way of laughing at stuff, face crinkling, and it makes you hurt because- there’s reasons you haven’t been looking in the mirror except to shave, and that’s your face, those are your expressions, where Jade is Jade, just different enough from you, just enough herself. Instead of saying anything, you reach out for a handful of popcorn and crunch down savagely, trying to focus on the movie.
His eyes flicker to you for a moment, and he nudges his foot against you again. You think, this is stupid, and reach out to brush your fingers against his ankle, because it’s you and him and Jade and Davesprite and Nanna and Jaspers and the hell of a lot of consorts and carapaces who are not exactly the brightest sparks in the universe and definitely don’t have the same kind of appreciation for cinema you guys do. You’re not exactly presented with an abundance of choice.
He shifts, because having the popcorn bowl on his leg isn’t actually that convenient for him, and you end up moving over into his space to follow it. Only it’s actually comfortable leaning against each other, the two of you sharing heat, taking turns reaching for the popcorn, and by the time it runs out you’re almost curled around each other, your head tucked under his chin as the two of you watch the Stay Puft Man going after cars, and you’re not getting up to make more and miss any of this, and neither is he. It’s weird to have someone who gasps at the same things you do, relaxes at the same point- but that’s to be expected, right? He has the same experiences, and as everyone on screen relaxes and things move into the end, you turn your head to look at his, reaching up to touch his face. He's you, but separate, and it feels odd, seeing your hand touch yourself but not feeling the sensation. At least not until he raises his eyebrows and brings one hand up to stroke your cheek, salt still coating the tips of his fingers. “What’re you doing?” he asks.
You raise your eyebrows right back at him, because he’s doing it now too, but don’t protest, grinning instead. “Want to find out?”