“Mister,” Ty moaned, “you sure know what you’re doin’.”
Ty was spread out on a king-sized bed in a swanky hotel room, with a grizzled, muscular, insanely hot naked man kneeling over him, mouth on his cock. He’d had fantasies, sure—but where he was from, men don’t do gay shit with men.
Course, where he was from, nobody time-traveled or teleported to other dimensions, neither.
Logan gave his cock a playful tug as he pulled off of it, leaving one last smacking kiss on the tip. An unreal, trembling whine came out of Ty’s throat.
“You ‘bout done with that one?” The drawling, sarcastic voice came from their left. Ty turned dazed eyes over to his doppleganger, who sat on the bed, dressed except for his shirt and with ankles and arms crossed, watching them through half-lidded eyes as if he was bored. (The tent in his pants belied his expression, but Ty wasn’t about to point that out.)
Logan’s eyes went cold when they lit on the doppleganger. Donald, they called him, but god damn if it didn’t look like Ty in a mirror—if he’d turned into a pimp and started dealing meth, maybe.
“Get over here and make yourself useful, Donnie,” Logan growled, in such a vicious voice that Ty almost tried to say something. Donald stiffened, his face going blank. Logan reached out and grabbed the back of his neck in one swift motion, jerking him forward and onto his knees. Donald’s mechanical hand landed on Ty’s shin as Logan shoved his face into his crotch.
Donald shivered from head to foot, arching his back and sticking his ass up in what was probably an unconscious reaction as his bearded cheek rubbed up against springy pubic hair. Logan was furry down his entire front, a delicious landscape of scratchy softness. Donald rubbed his cheek against Logan’s belly, whimpered out a soft sound, and tentatively laid his lips against the side of Logan’s cock.
Logan’s eyes slipped half-closed. He groaned and gripped the back of Donald’s head, braced his own cock, and started thrusting lengthways across Donald’s mouth, slicking himself with spit and the vibrations of Donald’s hungry moans.
“Mmm, that’s a good mouth, Donnie-boy,” Logan growled. “Now, get your lips around it and suck it.” His cruel voice sent a shiver up Ty’s spine that was half-hungry, half-afraid. Logan was mean with Donald in a way Ty didn’t really understand, as if Ty’s alt-universe twin was everything Logan hated in humanity. But no denying it was hot as fuck, the unyielding way he dominated Ty’s alter self.
Donald’s eyes rolled up as he navigated to the tip of Logan’s huge, hooded cock and slurped it into his mouth. Logan pushed the back of his head roughly and Donald gagged, spit drooling from the corner of his mouth.
“Ooh, that too big for ya?” Logan growled. He pulled out of Donald’s mouth and slapped his cock across his face before shoving back into him, making him cough and choke. He hooked one thumb into Donald’s mouth, gripping the hinge of his jaw, and started face-fucking him like he wanted to tear him a new throat. Donald’s mechanical hand clamped down so hard on Ty’s leg that he shouted and jerked away; the hand thankfully released him and switched to the bed covers, clamping down so viciously that they ripped under his metal fingertips.
Donald sounded like he was drowning as Logan fucked his throat; his body thrashed against the bed, and it was anyone’s guess whether he was enjoying it or not.
“Logan?” Ty said uncertainly. Logan’s sharp eyes flashed up to him. He seemed to see the question in Ty’s eyes, because he slowed his vicious thrusts and pulled out, allowing Donald to gasp a deep breath before he began coughing, wet and violent against the comforter.
Looking straight into Ty’s eyes—almost glaring—Logan shoved Donald onto his back, ripped his pants off, and mounted him. Donald’s scream as he was penetrated was cut off by Logan’s huge palm over his mouth. The waver of Donald’s cries turned quickly to moans as Logan’s hips rocked into him, slow but unyielding.
“C’mere,” Logan said, all gritty rasp like he’d never breathed air without dust in it. Ty scooted closer at Logan’s urging, til the man was able to get his mouth over Ty’s cock and holy shit—that was everything he’d ever wanted. Logan knew exactly what he was doing, more’n any girl Ty’d ever been with. He gave just the right pressure and release, tongued him expertly, sucked him down to his base like he had no need for air, and before Ty knew it he was clawing at the sheets and whimpering under his breath.
His twin was crying out too, raw moans tearing from his throat as Logan used his body. He started begging, an endless stream of “Logan—fuhh—fuck me—Logan—oh fuck!” His hips jerked and cum shot from his dick, painting the tattoo on his throat, then his chest, his belly. The sounds he made when he came were like a wounded animal and somehow absolutely intoxicating—the sounds of something so hurt that pain had become ecstasy. Ty cupped the back of Logan’s head and gasped “Gunna cum!” about half a second before he did. Without a hitch, Logan swallowed every drop until Ty slumped back across the pillows, all his limbs watery and his head spinning with pleasure. Logan pulled back from his spent body and watched him, predatory and hungry, as he pinned Donald’s wrists against the bed and fucked him until he reached his own orgasm. Donald kept his eyes closed through it, whimpering in something that could have been ecstasy or misery. When Logan came it was almost animalistic; his eyes rolled back, his teeth bared, and he curled over Donald like a beast around its trapped prize. The timbre of Donald’s moans turned to an alarming “No—no—no—no—” but they were drowned out by Logan’s snarls as he emptied himself into his captive. As his orgasm wound down he laid his chin on the top of Donald’s head, one arm coming around to cradle him more tenderly than he’d done during their entire night together. Donald’s free hand came up to wrap around Logan’s biceps.
Donald whimpered something that wasn’t quite words. As if understanding him, Logan let out a bass growl, jerked Donald’s head back by the hair, and nuzzled against his temple in an aggressive yet comforting gesture. The moment was somewhat ruined when he pulled out viciously, ripping a punched-out sound from Donald’s chest.
After a quick clean-up, Logan ended the night spooning Ty, stroking his arms, his flanks, and laying gentle, scratchy kisses against his neck and shoulder.
The one time Ty looked back, he saw Donald’s flesh hand curled around Logan’s arm and just one golden-lashed eye, closed tightly while he pressed a kiss into Logan’s shoulder. As if he could siphon a lifetime of comfort through his lips.