AND ALSO BROOKIARTY LOVE CONFESSIONS AAAAHHHH-chokes and dies because no one should ship potential twins that much unless they're hosts and ginger omg
(Iāve never done Richard before unless itās Jim being him so donāt blame me if he sucks okay)
Richard fidgets nervously as Jim ruffles up his hair, eyes soft and wide as they watch his brother. They should be mirror images of each other, but personality bleeds through into appearance. Jim is sharp, cold, controlled. Even stripped of his sharp suits and designer labels, he can strike the fear of God into Richard clad in loose fitting pyjama bottoms and a v-neck. Has done several times. Richard on the other hand is soft, warm, undeniably gentle.
Jim steps back, admiring his now disheveled hair. He unbuttons another button on the shirt heās dressed Richard in and the other man pulls his sleeves down over his hands in a nervous motion. He thought he had escaped Jim, broke away from his influence. He hadnāt heard from his brother in years, but it would seem all it takes is Jim snapping his fingers and Rich will come running back. Well, that and one lap dog assassin whoās willing to fetch when Jim tells him.
āI donāt want to do this.ā His voice is weak even to his own ears, no bite to it. Not like Jimās. Jim looks like heās about to smirk at the pathetic effort, but he hides it easily and puts a hand to Richardās cheek. Richard nearly flinches away to the touch but manages to hold his ground. No. He wonāt give in to Jim. Theyāre not children anymore. Heās not some small, timid thing that Jim can order about.
āRichie,ā Jim purrs, voice low and soft, like velvet or melted chocolate, something comforting and lovely. Richard knows itās an act, knows that Jim can slip in and out of character just as easily as he can, but something in him relaxes at the sound. āYouāll do this one little thing for me, wonāt you? For your brother?ā
Richardās lips part to argue that itās not a ālittle thingā, that Jim is asking him to sacrifice his identity, his career, everything he is and has just for his stupid little game. Jim doesnāt give him that chance to get out words.
āI love you, Rich. Do this for me.ā
Richard knows itās a lie. Part of him flares up angrily at the words. Jim doesnāt love him. Jim doesnāt love anyone except perhaps himself, but the same part of him that softened at the purring voice squirms hopefully. Heās wanted to hear those words for years. He doesnāt dare believe them, but his body leans slightly closer without his consent. With a sigh of defeat the resistance drains from him.
āI love you, Jim.ā He raises a hand, laying it over the one on his cheek. āIāll do anything you want.ā
āExcellent.ā Jim grins, clearly pleased by this. He pulls his hand back, twirling and pacing out of the room, shouting instructions to Sebastian. Richard stands alone in Jimās bedroom. A broken shell of a man looks back at him from the mirror. He takes in his new appearance. Fragile. Disheveled. Scared.
Slowly, he lowers his hand from his cheek.