Cloning/Selfcest with Gary x Gary

Please give this one a chance, it really may surprise you 👀. That's all I'm gonna say.

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Included: Selfcest, semi-public sex, clones, forbidden love, undressing, kissing, light dom/sub dynamics, anal fingering, gay sex, hand job, anal creampie, aftercare.

Words: 3k

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“Seven.” Gary 12 whispered from his shaded alcove, his grip tight enough on the wall beside him that it turned his knuckles white, made the veins across his hands ache. “Seven, it’s me. Please, turn around.” 

“I know it’s you.” His voice was flat as he kept his body turned away, facing out towards the atrium, towards the crowd of look-alikes in matching blue jumpsuits below.

“Seven, please, I just wanna talk.”  

“I can’t, Twelve. You know that.” 

Twelve’s teeth gritted together painfully, and a heat began to sear his eyes as his counterpart kept his back to him, as his voice never lost its apathetic quality, only gained a pinch of malice. 

“Why? Because of what One said?” 

“Obviously.”  The vault guard hissed, turning his head to Twelve only for a moment, before properly resuming his statuesque posture facing towards the crowd below. 

“What does it matter? We knew it was wrong before, knew he’d never have allowed–” 

“Enough, Twelve.” Gary Seven finally broke, lashing his rigid form around to face his partner as he spoke with a quiet cruelty. “Either join the rest of the crowd below for the evening address, or go back to your room.”

“I’ll happily go back there, if you would just come with me.” Twelve spoke up, holding his ground against his hardened adversary, his body equally solid, even as his voice softened and waivered between words. “We need to talk about this. A-about us. I've put this off as long as I can, but--” 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Seven couldn’t look him in the eye, his gaze planted at his partner’s chest as he lied through his teeth. 

“I-if you believe that… Then you’re a bigger fool than all the others down there.” Twelve could see the way Seven clenched his jaw, prepared to refute him. 

“Look at them, Seven. Brainless One worshippers. Like he’s any better than any of us. We’re the same. And more than that–”

“Keep your voice down, Twelve, if someone heard you, I…” 

“More than that,” He continued, taking a step closer so he could lower his voice, so he could almost brush his chest against his partner’s. “We’re human, Seven. What we had? We need this. Don't let it become a memory.” 

“I…” Seven’s nostrils flared as he released a sigh. 

I’ve got him. Twelve’s lips very nearly curled into an optimistic grin at the realization, as he saw an uninvited hint of sadness shining in his partner’s eyes. 

A regret at leaving things the way he had. Leaving everything unsaid, unfinished. 

“...I don’t want to have to arrest you.” 

And then it was gone, and that hard voice, those set brows and lifeless eyes returned, and Twelve’s breath caught in his throat from the pain of it.

He couldn’t move, even as Seven began to turn away from him again, to go back to his post. 

“I won’t care if you do.” Twelve whispered, pursuing him. “At least then… I’d get to see you. Even from behind a cell. Even if you don’t feel this way anymore, I… I can’t pretend like it– what we had– didn’t happen. I’m not… Not like you that way, Seven.” 

It was a long moment of silence before anything happened. So long, that Gary One had stepped out onto the balcony and began his address to the field of copies below. The sound of his voice was tiresome, a hum of monotonous echoes that droned through the steel walls, never quite meeting Twelve’s ears. Finally though, Seven turned around to face him, and even more, he stepped far enough into the alcove that no one could see. No one but Twelve, as he-- in turn-- was backed into the darkness. 

“I can never forget…” 

The guard’s hand was softer than it had any right to be, as he brushed the pads of his fingers over Twelve’s cheek. 

“Like you said, we’re the same.” Both hands were there now, gently holding either side of Twelve’s face, as they peered into each other’s matching eyes. “And like you…”

Seven’s voice faded, and only his gaze remained, only his hands upon his partner’s face, only that small, insignificant space between their bodies that cried to be filled. 

 “Shit, I need this.” 

Suddenly, firm hands fell to his shoulders and pushed Twelve back further into the dark storage alcove, and their mirrored lips crashed together with an aggressive passion. Twelve’s hands flew to Seven’s waist in response, hauling their forms closer, until they might meld back together where they’d begun. Where they belonged. 

“One controls everything.” Seven growled into his partner, his own hands roaming Twelve’s body hungrily, as though he didn’t know every nook and cranny by memory, as though he was discovering their bodies for the first time. “Our jobs, our energy, our food, water…”

Twelve let out a whine as his partner scraped his teeth over his bottom lip. 

“He can’t take this from us. Can’t control this.” 

Twelve could only frantically nod his agreement, his fingers holding onto his partner’s waist in a death grip as Seven’s own grasping hands set upon Twelve’s vault suit zipper, swiftly tugging it downwards and exposing his chest to the cool, stale air. 

His breath hissed between his lips as Twelve sucked in a gasp at the feeling, flushing at the way he felt his nipples harden in response to the drastic change in temperature. 

“Seven–” Twelve whined out, as quietly as he could manage. 

“I know, love.” With a series of quick, rough movements, Seven had his partner’s arms out of his sleeves, and was hauling the suit down to his hip bones. “Just try and keep quiet for me.” 

With that, Seven’s touch became more gentle, as he slowly turned his partner away from him, and Twelve instinctively braced his hands against the cool, steel wall in front of him. Seven’s breath was hot against his neck, making the little hairs there stand on end as he began to trail heated kisses down the line of his bare spine. The vaultie’s back arched at the feeling, and he had to bite into his lip to follow his partner’s direction. 

Quiet. Right. More important now than ever before…

Suddenly, Twelve was distinctly aware of the massive crowd of copies just down below, the guards that would be patrolling on their level, and above that… 

One can’t see us from his vantage point, I made sure of that ahead of time…

Still though, the thought brought him no solace as he felt goosebumps crawl up his spine. And then Seven’s hands were on him, distracting his troubled mind from all that wasn’t him. Seven’s touch was becoming rough again, needy, and Twelve felt his heartbeat pick up in his chest as his partner’s hand trailed down his torso to his naval. 

He sucked in a breath, waiting for the steady touch to reach his quickly hardening cock, but then… it stopped. Right below his belly button, Seven’s hand ceased, and merely tugged backwards, pulling Twelve’s body into a further bent-over position against the wall. 

He felt his erection throb in anticipation from where it stood stiff between his legs, and spread his feet further apart to invite his partner in. 

A pleased hum sounded from the man behind him, and next Twelve knew, one hand was smoothing over his ass and slowly sliding in between to tease at the puckered entrance he found there. 

Twelve let his head fall back, and despite himself, a pleasured little groan left his throat without permission. 

“Shh, you have to keep quiet, love. If you want this–”

“I do.” Twelve couldn’t help but interrupt, thrusting his hips backwards and into the feel of his partner’s prodding fingers. 

“If you want this,” The hand on his stomach vanished, and reappeared on the back of his neck, whispering a threat that made Twelve’s cock leak into his vault suit. “You have to listen to me. And be very, very quiet. Do you understand me, Twelve?” 

“Yes–” He tried, and Seven’s grip tightened. 

Instead of finishing his verbal confirmation, the clone nodded, and the pressure on his neck released. 

“Good.” Seven whispered, his voice low and rough with building arousal. 

A particularly explorative prod of his fingers had Twelve gripping the wall in front of him with white knuckles, and a sudden thought sparked in his mind with the pain of it.  

“W-wait, Seven. We don’t have any–”

“Shh, you think that I didn’t think of that, pet?” Seven’s hand stroked soothingly over his ass, and then the touch, and his partner’s presence behind him, vanished altogether. “We’re in a supply closet.” 

A zipper sounded behind him, and then an adjusting of fabric. 

“One that I happen to know quite well, in fact.” 

Then a cap being undone, and the sound of skin rubbing on skin. 

Twelve’s cock felt like an atomic core, hot and ready to explode with the right kind of motivation, his belly like a furnace, his legs shaking with wanton expectancy. 

“Don’t you trust me?” Seven’s presence returned behind him, and Twelve couldn’t help but lean back towards him. 

“Always, Seven.” He whispered, and in his mind's eye, saw that familiar smile upon his partner’s face in response. 

It was instant, the feeling of racking pleasure sending strikes of lighting through his body, as Seven’s deliciously slick fingers met his skin. One hand returned to its place between his ass cheeks, massaging the oil into him in undulating movements until the steady press of two fingers began their intrusion of him. The other hand went directly to Twelve’s cock now, pulling it from his suit's confines and smoothing the oil down the length of his shaft in languid strokes.

Twelve could swear he tasted blood on his tongue, as he tried, very nearly in vain, to keep his pleasured sounds at bay. 

The spread of Seven’s fingers in him had his stomach muscles clenching, his brows furrowing in pleasure as he felt his entrance widen to accommodate his partner-- hell, to welcome him. 

Welcome him back. 

Twelve felt the start of tears prick his eyes at the thought of it, at more than just the overwhelming feeling of Seven opening him up.

He hadn’t lost his partner. One hadn’t taken Seven away from him, like Twelve had feared. Like he always feared. Even in the beginning; the confusing feelings, the curious touches, the coy smiles… No one knew how far it was going to come, least of all Twelve, and he remembered being scared shitless, even as his heart swelled with a newfound affection, with love for the first time.

And now? Now, he couldn’t imagine his life any other way.

Without Seven, what was there in this frigid, steel prison? 

Only stagnant tedium, a lulling absence of life, of mind, of feeling. 

This… what he had with Seven, it was a startling antithesis to such a dismal existence. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” Seven put Twelve’s thoughts to words at the feeling of him wrapping warmly around his pulsing fingers. “I can’t wait…”

“Don’t, then.” Twelve practically pleaded. “Seven… I want you.” 

“Just a moment more.” The guard growled out, clearly as unenthusiastic about the idea of holding back as Twelve was. 

Though he hated to wait, there was definite gratitude radiating through him as Seven pressed his digits in to the knuckle, and began thrusting them in earnest. The soft pads of his fingers scraped against Twelve’s insides, the oil easing the way and creating a delicious friction that had him panting against the metal wall he was braced against. His breath fogged the cold surface with each push into him, with each scissoring spread of his partner’s digits, and Twelve nearly bit through his tongue with the effort of holding in his moans. 

“That’s it…” Seven breathed into his ear. His stroking had slowed over Twelve’s cock, but still, he felt hard as steel as his partner’s hand pulled away. Seven’s fingers eased out of him at the same moment, forcing out an unstifled gasp with the sudden empty feeling. 

It was time. 

Twelve’s legs were shaking. 

Both of Seven’s hands set upon his partner in a new place, spreading his ass cheeks and acting as a pathway for his own aching cock to enter. The pressure increased, as the leaking tip of Seven’s member rested against his entrance teasingly, spreading more of the oil there before, slowly, he began to press inside. 

The feeling of relief was instant, overwhelming, and Twelve would’ve surely collapsed to the cold ground, if not for one of Seven’s hands reaching to grasp at his stomach, keeping him in place as his cock surged forward, and then came to a halt within him. Seven’s hips were pressed firmly to Twelve’s ass, holding there, fully sheathed, as they both panted through their shared pleasure. 

“Alright?” 

Twelve nodded to him vigorously, and for emphasis, placed one of his hands over Seven’s where it rested upon his stomach. 

“Good.”

The word was punctuated with a shallow thrust of his partner’s hips against him, before he truly began to ease out, leaving only the tip nestled inside. Seven held there a moment, until he felt Twelve clench his walls wantonly around him, urging him to continue, and then, steadily, he plunged forward again. 

Twelve couldn’t help the groan that left him, especially when Seven’s free hand delved back between his thighs to take his cock in hand. His partner stroked him in time with his languid thrusts, sending bursts of searing bliss all throughout his body from the warmth, the delicious stretch, the friction. Already, Seven could feel the way his partner’s walls gripped him periodically, the way Twelve’s cock throbbed and wept pre-cum onto the polished floor between his legs as his pace grew more hastened. 

“S-say this isn’t the end.” Twelve’s weak voice cut through the charged, forced silence, and Seven paused his movements.

“What?” 

“Tell me, please, that after this, things won’t go back.” Twelve’s voice shook, his head hanging low between his hunched shoulders as he pleaded with his partner. “We won’t be just… other Garies to each other, l-like we were pretending to be after One’s speech.” 

“No, Twelve.” 

Warmth spread through him as Seven pressed himself inside fully, his hand on his hip coming up to caress Twelve’s chest in an all-encompassing embrace. A kiss pressed to one shoulder before suddenly, Seven pulled away. 

Twelve’s breath left him as his partner did, his eyes wide at the sudden shift of feeling, of absence,  and then he was turning, following Seven’s guiding hands as they turned him so they were facing one another. Once there, Seven eased him to lean back against the wall, taking one of Twelve’s legs in hand and hiking it up to brace over his elbow, spreading him. The other hand went down to grip his cock, as Seven nudged the reddened tip to Twelve’s entrance once more, before plunging back inside.

Twelve felt himself mold to his partner’s familiar shape instantly, releasing another gasp as Seven delved deeper than before in their new position.

“It’s never going to be like that again. You… were right. One is a tyrant, and he…”

A grunt interrupted him as Seven picked up his movements, thrusting more wildly than before as his fury surged through his body, becoming noticeable in his intense eyes as they stayed locked to Twelve’s. 

“I don’t care what it takes.” He punctuated each word with another buck of his hips, filling Twelve to bursting on every rapid stroke. He could feel the pressure in his own cock building to unbearable new heights as he gripped Seven’s shoulders until his fingernails were bound to leave scarlet marks in their wake. 

“Even if it topples the whole vault, if it takes all-out war between us, you have my word, Twelve, that I’ll never allow us to become strangers again.” 

Twelve was fighting to hold back his whines as his partner jostled him, as his cock was rubbed between their heaving torsos until it finally couldn’t hold back, and Twelve burst out his release onto his stomach. 

Seven's hand pressed to his mouth instantly, muffling the sounds that did manage to escape his throat, as he continued his onslaught. He was close though, Twelve could see it in his expression, that desperation, that intensity, that passion that One had almost managed to sever him from forever. 

But the Overseer never could win out, when it came to Seven and Twelve. It was truer now than ever before. 

“Never. Again.” Seven thrust forward a final time, stilling then, as he spilled his seed deep inside his partner. His hips pulsed with every burst, and Twelve held on tightly to his shoulders as Seven rode out his climax with his body snug against him. 

He ended, panting into the crook of Twelve’s shoulder as he stroked over the back of his neck soothingly. Finally, that pent-up rage, the frustration, the culmination of fear and stress and anger all seemed to drain out of their bodies, leaving them light and tingly with the newfound deliverance at each other’s hands. 

Quietly, Seven listened to the commotion down in the atrium, his ears searching for any sign that they might’ve been heard, might’ve been caught. 

When he deemed it safe, Seven finally made to pull back, and Twelve’s firm grip on him eased. He nearly collapsed to the ground without his partner's support, but managed to stay upright against the wall as Seven reached for a rag stored in a cubby beside them. 

With tender hands, he cleaned them both of spend and pulled their respective vault suits back into place. 

Twelve was still flushed, his hair disheveled slightly, and Seven had sweat dripping from his forehead, but otherwise, they were both back to their nondescript selves.