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Marco awoke to a noise coming from his bathroom, more specifically, the sound of his (rather expensive) electric toothbrush clattering to the floor and an eerily familiar, “Merda!”
Marco sat up in bed, unsure of what to do. Should he approach the stranger? Grab a knife from the kitchen? He’s got a metal water bottle on his nightstand, maybe that could do some damage? Who’s he kidding? The kitchen is too far away, and he’s most likely going to bang the water bottle on something and alert the intruder. Fuck.
But seriously, what the fuck is he supposed to do? There’s someone in his home. Granted, they probably could’ve killed him already if they made it to his en suite bathroom, it definitely would’ve been easier while he was asleep, but what if this is a kidnapping, or a hostage situation? Is he a hostage in his own home?
Marco desperately tries to place why the voice was so familiar when the door to his bathroom opens slightly more. He can see the top of the intruder’s head now, as he’s bent over.
Wait a minute.
He knows those curls.
He’s obviously only seen it in pictures and stuff when he manages to get a good shot to make sure he’s not going bald, but… the person looks up and. Fuck. Double fuck. What the fuck. It’s his face. His tooth gap that’s cheekily smiling at him, his overgrown stubble, and as Marco looks down at the intruder’s fingers, his tattoo. The intruder looks up through his eyelashes at him, with a little bit of apology in his eyes, “Sorry to wake you man, I stubbed my toe while I was brushing my teeth. When I get your place, I’m definitely changing the sharpness of these corners mate. This has got to be a hazard during a midnight piss.”
Marco definitely grabs the water bottle now. Raises it like a bat, because obviously this is a trick or dream or something. “What…who… what the hell… who are… shit.” The other Marco looks at him expectantly, like he’s dealing with an especially dumb child. Marco shut his mouth and took a deep breath before saying, “Mate, who the hell are you?”
“Who does it look like, Marco? I know we barely graduated high school, but c’mon, I think you can guess.” Other Marco smirked, but kindly, not mockingly. Marco suddenly realized how exposed he was. He must’ve kicked off the sheets in the night, because he felt close to naked in his T-shirt and boxers under the exasperated gaze of himself(??).
“But you can’t be me. Because I’m me! And what do you mean when you get my place? And most importantly why are you here?” Marco lowers the water bottle and pulls the sheet up to his chest, just to get the feeling of the other’s eyes off him. The other Marco had been slowly approaching Marco during his questioning and was now beside the bed where he lay. He sits down in what Marco affectionately calls the cuck chair (whether or not it has been used will not be disclosed, but hey, it came with the apartment). The other Marco spreads his legs on the vomit green chair and adjusts to comfort before opening his mouth.
“I don’t think I’m technically you, but I think I’m from a close enough reality that it doesn’t really matter. I won’t bore you with conceptuals, but a lot of universes look like ours, I’m probably just from one where you tied your left shoe before your right one day, or didn’t get whatever fuckboy hairstyle you’ve got going on right now.” Marco begins to protest that he’s actually very on trend, and he reaches for his hair. Whatever, the downright bush that the other is sporting hasn’t been in style since 2013. The other Marco holds up a finger to silence his rebuttal. “Before you get offended, remember I’m you, and I also want to answer your questions.” Marco shuts his mouth and settles back into his pillows. Other Marco smiles at him. “I’m a little bit behind you career wise in my universe I think. I haven’t got this apartment yet, or hopefully I never will. Why is everything beige? It totally clashes with Vale’s model bikes.” Other Marco takes a look around the room, taking in his surroundings, looking for differences between his universe and Marco’s. His smile gets private when he sees the photo on Marco’s wall of all of the Academy riders when they were younger.
Marco just stares at him. Blinks. Tilts his head. Sits up in bed, carefully, facing the other. Blinks again. Looking at it now, he kind of misses his longer hair. Looking at himself reminds him of Celin. It reminds him of being a kid and fucking around on a bike for hours on end.
He tells himself, “Well, once you go back to your own universe you can decorate however you want.” He leans forward off his bed, towards the other. “Until you tell me why you’re here, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to deal with my very expensive eyesore apartment.”
Other Marco rolls his eyes and also leans forward, copying Marco’s exact motions. He rests his elbows on his knees, identical to Marco. Marco gets an uncanny feeling watching his body mirror itself. Other Marco looks into his eyes, “I don’t know why I’m here Marco. All I know is that this sometimes happens to me and I’ve learned to make the best of it. At least you’re not a terrible me to look at. One time I got stuck for three days in a universe where everyone had horns growing out of them, and hey, usually I’m not opposed to much, and you’d think us with horns would be hot, but the horn was coming out of your eyesocket. You only had one eye, man. At least it was better than Vale, he had one on his tongue. It was so weird seeing him quiet.”
Marco shudders at the idea of a horn coming out of his tongue. One time he put a spike in the place of his regular barbell tongue piercing. (it was a dare from Celin. Again during the aforementioned fucking around phase.) He tried speaking but it kept poking his palette and he had to take it out after two minutes. He liked the way Celin looked at him, though, when he stuck out his tongue to show him. (He considered finding other jewelry to decorate his piercing with, just so Celin would look at him like that again.)
“Are you thinking about Celin right now? And that one weird ass dare you guys thought was a good idea. Of course you’re being weird about it,” He huff exasperatedly, “Speaking of, where is he? Have you guys not moved in together yet? I swear, if I got money for every time I showed up in a different dimension and you two were already fucking, I’d be a very rich man. I actually think I do deserve compensation, especially for that one time with the tentacles. Ugh. I mean, it was hot, but there was way too much goop going on.”
Marco freezes. He doesn’t say anything, and the grin on other Marco’s lips fades a little.
“Marco, are you two not together? You do like him, right? I’m not totally freaking you out right now?”
Marco takes a moment before he begins, sucking in a little more air than necessary, “Uhm, I mean, we’ve been friends for a long time, and I uh… I really like him. But I haven’t exactly told him that yet.”
“Oh my god, if I was worried about the space time continuum this would be a really big problem right now. Thank god I’ve already definitely fucked it up once or twice.”
Marco contemplates that, then shelves it for later, trying to defend himself, “I don’t know how it is in your universe, but in mine, I don’t know if he likes me back. He’s shown zero interest. Hell, he had a girlfriend for a while until they broke up last year. I’m fine with staying friends.”
The other Marco looked at him disbelievingly. One eyebrow raised and staring into Marco’s soul (that’s definitely a good look on him), he says, “That, my friend, is a massive fucking lie. I know you, fuck, I am you, and I know you’ve got a massive fucking heart boner for Celin.” He pauses, considering for a moment, before continuing, “I know what you think about when you’ve got your hand around your dick and you can’t fall asleep at night. I know that you dream about touching him. You wake up in a sweat sometimes because you imagined him getting his hand or mouth on your dick, absolutely gagging for it. Maybe if it’s an especially good dream, him sitting on it and moaning your name.” Marco stares at him and gulps audibly. He has to prevent his hand from going to his crotch. From creating the friction that would go along with the fantasies other Marco is describing.
“Marco, save that for later. We’ve still got stuff to talk about, and if you get a boner, you’re just going to clam up like you always do when you get nervous,” Marco shifts slightly, spreads his legs a little to relieve the pressure in his definitely chubbing up cock. “Don’t even try to disagree with me man, I know we get a little stupid when we’re horny.” Marco snaps out of his daydream. Celin is going to have a field day when he finds out Marco’s certifiably insane.
“Also, there is absolutely no way Celin doesn’t like you back. You must be blind or dense dude. Again, that stupid dare. You want to know what I did after that stupid dare? He was looking at me in a certain way, and as soon as I put my barbell back in, I kissed him. I have a feeling your Celin looked at you the same way. So why didn’t you shove your tongue down his throat, mate?”
Marco get a little bit sad for a moment. Could he have had everything he ever wanted? Was the cost of Celin a part of his career that the other seemed to be lacking? Would he make that trade?
Maybe it’s completely unrelated. Plenty of guys can manage to have a love life and a successful career. Unless… what if he came out? Most of the riders aren’t too bad about it, but what about the press. Some countries would even allow him in if he publicly came out, let alone race in them. Maybe he’s looking at the worst scenario, there are plenty of reasons that other him could be behind, and he really doesn’t want to think about whether or not he has to chose between racing and love.
Other Marco seems to pick up on the fact that Marco’s started panicking. Marco really will have to ask him how he manages it. Trying to fix the weird energy other Marco say, “Speaking of tongue things,” Marco splutters, “Do you still have the barbell? Because I couldn’t find your soft bristle brush and I swear to god if you’re trying to use that motorized thing to clean it, I will have to resign myself to hiding out like I did in the pet spider universe.”
Marco shakes his head no, partially to clear the dark stormcloud that comes with the politics of being queer, “I don’t have the piercing any more unfortunately. I was riding and hit a bump at the ranch and almost lost a tooth because I forgot to take it out. I just didn’t want to deal with the hassle anymore after that.” Marco sticks out his tongue to show other Marco. He looks at Marco somewhat disappointedly, but also a little bit temptingly? There’s a certain heat in his gaze that’s going to Marco’s head a bit. Other Marco stands up and strides closer to him. He keeps examining Marco’s offered tongue, and Marco keeps it extended, trying to please this other version of himself.
For the first time since they met, other Marco looks a little bit unsure, like what he’s about to say won’t be readily accepted by Marco.
He starts and reaches out a hand to touch, but stops right before he touches Marco’s shoulder. Unsure of what’s going through the other’s mind, he scoot slightly off the bed, enough that they’re touching.
Other Marco takes a deep breath in and says, haltingly, “Um, I’ve still got my piercing in,”
Marco looks up into his eyes, asking him to continue, “I know this might be weird because you think I’m you or something,”
Marco short circuits a little, he wonders if he knows what he’s about to propose. He wonders if he’s okay with it. He does some brief soul-searching. He doesn’t hate the idea.
“But, I know that you always dream about getting your dick sucked by someone with a piercing. It’s why you got one yourself, because you think it’s hot, and you wanted Celin to think you were hot. I can be a trial run.”
Marco gasps, just a little bit. His heart has started beating faster. “And I know I’m not a pretty girl, or the guy that you’re in love with, but I do have longer hair that we don’t mind being pulled, and I’m not going to mention your ball smell. Which, by the way, please when you do this for real, don’t let Celin sniff your sweaty balls. It was definitely a little awkward the first time. No matter how high emotions are or what race you win, almost no one wants to sniff crotch musk.” Marco blushes a little bit and doesn’t respond, looking down in embarrassment.
In the absence of Marco protesting, other Marco slowly, slowly as to not spook him, moves so that he’s down on his knees in front of Marco. Marco doesn’t stop him. In fact, Marco uses his finger to pull other Marco’s chin up so that he can look into his eyes. Marco searches for something in his brown eyes. He sees his own reflection. He sees his own desperation and eagerness reflected back at him. He drags the hand on his chin up to the crown of his head and grips.
Marco watches his own eyes flutter shut and his own head tilt back into the grip. Jesus. That’s a really good look on him. Other Marco’s eyes reopen and a spark flashes in them. “Like what you see? If not, you can always close your eyes man, I won’t be offended.” There’s a twinkle in other Marco’s eyes. He slowly moves his face closer to the tent in Marco’s boxers. He makes eye contact with Marco while he rubs his cheek against Marco’s clothed dick. Marco’s dick twitches in response and he groans. He unconsciously
tightens the grip he has on other Marco’s hair. He feels it, and he smirks.
He reaches his hands for the zipper and Marco lets him. He stares at himself, entranced. He hopes when he does this for Celin he looks this good. Other Marco pulls Marco’s cock out through his briefs, his hand gripping around the base of Marco, and immediately spits on his dick. Jesus Christ. There’s a string of saliva connecting his dick to other Marco’s mouth that Marco can see. Suspended and reflecting the light just slightly. An erotic connection, almost as close as two people can get. He mentally snaps a picture before other Marco uses the spit to smooth the strokes of his hand. He pumps him a few times before touching his lips to the head, gently kissing the tip. Marco moans in appreciation. He’s definitely taking notes. Other Marco looks up through his eyelashes, checking to see if Marco is watching. Marco couldn’t imagine doing anything else in this moment. When he feels the mouth-warm barbell press against him for the first time, warm on his skin, licking just under the head, at the little sensitive spot at the top, he accidentally thrusts into it, stopping himself once he’s realized he’s done it. Other Marco only moans into it, accepting it and continuing to lave at him.
After other Marco seems to get comfortable, he tries going down farther, taking more of Marco into his throat. Marco can feel the tongue, and also the barbell, running against the underside of his cock on the upstroke. He begins picking up the pace, slurping and sucking obscenely. Marco’s dick is dripping. Fuck. Everything is so wet and warm. He can’t tell who enjoys the mess more, other Marco or himself. He has no idea where other Marco learned this shit, tongue dipping into the slit a little. Marco certainly hasn’t had enough practice to pull this off. Other Marco goes at him with excitement and fervor. Looking up to make eye contact every once in a while to make sure Marco is still looking. Like Marco could look away from one of the hottest things he’s ever seen (not to be arrogant or anything). It’s so slick, like when he decides to put a little effort into a jerk off session and get out the fancy lube, and maybe his fleshlight (his first purchase with his first Moto2 check), except, his fleshlight is usually cold at first compared to the scorching heat of other Marco’s mouth. Other Marco’s mouth is instant heat, instant wet, and just enough off of his usual jerk off pace that he has to acknowledge that maybe he could try a slower one next time.
Other Marco pulls off, and the shock of cold air brings Marco back to the current moment. He meets other Marco’s eyes, “I need you paying attention man, if you want to learn what Celin likes, take some notes please. I’m not just doing this just for you.”
Oh fuck if that doesn’t get Marco close. Picturing doing to Celin what’s being done to him now. Giving Celin fuck me eyes and watching him moan under his touch. He’s on the edge, a crest of warmth spreading from his dick to his chest. His legs start tensing and he tries to yank other Marco off, for courtesy’s sake, Marco pops off and says, “You honestly don’t think I know when I’m about to come? Just let me do what I’m doing.” And he dives back in. Marco allows it to happen. He pictures Celin on the edge, just as he was, in his mind’s eye. Sees his lips part on a shaky exhale. He doesn’t imagine it when he feels tension all the way down to his toes before, like a rubber band, he snaps and comes. Blood rushes to his head and he makes probably one of the ugliest noises he’s ever made, but he’s not paying attention to that because all he can do is imagine Celin doing the same thing. He falls back on the bed, strings cut.
The other Marco swallows and makes a face at the taste. “Before you confess dramatically after winning something, please make sure you eat some pineapple. Some fruit. Something that’s not a monster. Please.” Other Marco slowly stands up, his knees cracking like an old man. He’s still smiling, even after the horrible taste lingers.
“Way to kill the afterglow.” Marco rolls his eyes and smiles back at other Marco. He lied. Next to nothing can kill his afterglow, especially with the new information about Celin from other Marco.
“Shut up, bastardo. You know you liked it.” As other Marco moves to sit on the bed next to Marco’s, he considers a little reciprocation is entitled, as a thanks. He’s not a complete jerk. He can be generous when it’s earned. As soon as other Marco catches his hungry look he just shakes his head.
“Sorry man, I think I’m about to head home. Celin missing really seems to be the only thing missing from here. I’ll just tell you it’s nearly impossible to fuck up, no matter what hang-ups you may have in this timeline. For better or for worse, we always end up together. Except for that one time Marc was part dragon. I’m not sure I blame that me though, it was ride I almost didn’t survive. Literally.”
Marco opens his mouth to ask about other Marco’s reality. He really needs advice on the whole “being queer in Motorsport” thing, but other Marco cuts him off with, “oh, and for extra motivation, if you think a tongue piercing is crazy, wait until you feel a Prince Albert.” And then he has the audacity to wink. “Could you also grab me some water, it's not my fault your jizz tastes like motor oil.” Marco obliges and turns away for a second to grab his water bottle, to make sure he doesn’t send other Marco with a bad taste in his mouth. He has to close his eyes and try to hide the bit of arousal at the idea other Marco just put into his head. Once he turns back, other Marco is gone.
Well, he’s definitely got some deductions to make.
Marco really does want to find out about the Prince Albert, though.