Archive: Yes to TRIS, my webpage (http://sidewinder72.tripod.com)
Summary: Response to the 1500 word smut challenge (and
clocking in at 1500 words EXACTLY, not including disclaimers!)
Based on the Jackie Chan movie "Twin Dragons", wherein two
twins who were separated at birth run into each other for the
first time and discover they share a unique mental
Warning: sort of m/f, sort of m/m, sort of incest. Something
here surely to offend anyone with delicate sensibilities!
Notes: Written in 90 minutes on the train tonight, barely
edited after that. All mistakes and weirdness are my fault.
Just had to do it.
Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the movie "Twin Dragons",
nor Jackie Chan, as much as I might like to imagine that I do.
Ma Yau, the internationally-renown conductor, slipped on
his headphones and sank down into the plush leather sofa of
his hotel suite. In five hours, he would be conducting his
final scheduled performance here in Hong Kong. He wanted
to take some time to listen to recordings of the previous
evenings' performances, to make mental notes as to what he
should try to improve tonight. He was a perfectionist, after
all, and had to make sure his last concert here in his
homeland was a memorable one.
Of course, he thought to himself, he would be hard-pressed
to make it more memorable than his first concert here, during
which his newfound twin brother had "conducted" in his
place. He cringed to think of it, despite the critics' raving
about his "energetic and impassioned Hong Kong debut."
"Impassioned my ass," Ma Yau muttered aloud. His brother, Bok
Min, could have just as easily destroyed his reputation for
good. Somehow, though, through the miracle of their mental link,
Ma Yau had been able to influence his brother--without even
knowing it--enough that the orchestra had not been lead into
Only partial chaos. Tonight, Ma Yau was determined to lead
them to complete glory.
The violins swirled up through his headphones (a touch too
strong this early in the piece; I must try to keep them in check
tonight, he noted). He thought of that mental link and felt
glad that he would be leaving Hong Kong tomorrow to
return to America. Sure, he wanted to get to know his twin better,
but at the same time, this connection they shared kept
growing stronger by the day, and it was scaring him. Ma
Yau wanted to talk to his brother, to find out about his life
until now which had been so different from the one he'd
known. But he didn't have ANY interest in knowing
everything his brother felt or did. Ma Yau didn't want to
know when Bok Min was hungry, when he'd bruised his
toe, when he was tapping his leg compulsively, or when he'd
had too much to drink.
Or, especially, when he was having sex, or just thinking
about having sex, which seemed to happen every five
minutes--and CONSTANTLY when Tong Sum was around.
Conversely, Ma Yau didn't want Bok Min to know those
things about him, either, and he was beginning to feel as if
he was losing all sense of his physical space, of himself,
through this bond. He could barely separate his own feelings
from Bok Min's, his own thoughts. When did he want
something, and when did his brother? It was much too
No, the best thing to do was to return home to America, take
some time to sort things out. He had to tell their parents
about his discovery, help them deal with the shock of
discovering their long-lost son was still alive and well in Hong
Kong. Ma Yau was debating inviting Barabara along for the
trip, for he definitely felt strongly for her, and he wanted her
to meet his family. His mother would be so happy at the
thought of him finding someone he might consider settling
Ah but first, he had one last concert here to conduct. He turned
his attention back to the tape, closing his eyes and
letting the music become his entire world, his every
sensation. Music was everything to him, as it had been since his
childhood. This particular passage of the symphony was
sensuous and lush, his favorite section of the composition.
The tympani beat out a slow, pulsing rhythm while the wind
instruments darted and sang back and forth, like birds calling
to each other in an elaborate mating ritual.
Sweet songbirds, like his Barbara, he thought, and he saw
her gentle smile, her beautiful face before him in his mind's
eye. He thought about what it was like to kiss those lips, and
to touch her perfect, soft skin. The flutes trilled beautiful
promises in his ears as the percussion beat faster, just
slightly, like the quickening of a lover's pulse.
Ma Yau sunk deeper into the soft leather sofa, as he allowed
his mind's eye to study Barbara's lithe body. A small voice
inside him noted that the first clarinet sounded slightly flat.
He told that voice to shut up for a while. His body was
responding to the music and his mind's imagination,
responding with intense urgency. He rubbed his hand idly
over his stomach, slipped it beneath the thin t-shirt he wore
to touch his bare skin. His fingertips were cool, and he
caressed his skin lightly, imagining it was Barbara's hand, not
his own. She smiled in his mind, and the cellos sang in a deep,
low cry at her touch.
Slowly his hand moved in circles upward, up to his chest,
circling around and then brushing lightly over one nipple,
then the next. He squirmed under the intense sensations of
his touches, and he brought his free hand downward, down
to the waistband of his briefs. The silk fabric was so smooth
to his touch, smooth and cool over his hard, hot,
erection. He imagined Barbara, caressing him through the
silky undergarment, and moaned softly.
The violins echoed his cry.
He saw her pulling the briefs down, over his feet, then
settling between his legs, taking him inside her lush lips
swiftly, without preface. Naughty girl! He slipped his hand
inside his underwear and mirrored with his hand what he
imagined her mouth doing. His cock throbbed at the touch
and pleasure sparked through his body.
Sweet Barbara...so beautiful...and she would take him
deep, so deep down her throat, and he would lose himself in
the joy of it, and in the devilish sparkle of her brown eyes as
she watched him.
And he would urge her on, and caress her hair...funny how
it seemed shorter, now, in his mind's eye...no more than
shoulder length...but the feel of it excited him, as the gentle
wind instruments called out and were then washed away by
the demanding blare of the trumpets, harsh and demanding,
like his own passion.
Her hands were on his thighs, squeezing, urging them apart.
A finger wet with saliva, now, pushing against his most
private spot. He shuddered, feeling his climax growing ever
closer. That was a VERY naughty thing to imagine her
doing to him, but the image stuck in his mind and heightened
the pleasure he wrung from each stroke of his hand on his
Her finger pushed inside him, so big and thick. Then a second
finger joined the first. He moaned as, in his fantasy, she
continued sucking him, probing him, bringing him to the
edge of the most intense climax he could remember feeling in
ages. He grasped a handful of thick, dark hair and thrust his
hips upward, into her welcoming mouth, down his lover's
throat as the orgasm sent shockwaves of ecstasy through his
body. Almost immediately afterwards, before his own
orgasm was barely finished, his body trembled as he
somehow felt her orgasm, too, as she moaned around the weeping
cock still in her mouth and she brought herself to completion
with her free hand.
"Ma Yau..." his fantasy partner sighed, in a throaty, deep,
"Bok Min..." Ma Yau whispered dreamily in response...
The cymbals crashed in his ears and Ma Yau sat up, startled,
heart pounding as he repeated aloud with shock:
Bok Min?! Why had he seen his BROTHER'S face, the mirror
image of his own, at the end of his fantasy?
Then he remembered the shorter hair he'd imagined...and
hands that had become as strong as his own, not delicate like
Barbara's as they caressed him, probed him...
He felt a little...no, make that A LOT sick. To think that
somehow he'd been having an erotic fantasy about Bok Min.
His twin brother!
What was wrong with him?!
He rubbed his sticky hand on his t-shirt with disgust, then
tossed it and his headphones to the floor. He needed to take
a bath, a nice, long, hot bath, to somehow wash the image of his
brother sucking him off out of his mind.
"That settles it," he said to himself. "I have to get away from
him. This is getting to be too much." He had to blame it on
their strange bond; it had to be doing weird things to his
mind, making him think these twisted things. Maybe Bok
Min had felt Ma Yau's arousal and had started jerking off,
too. That would explain why it had been so intense, why
he'd imagined or felt an echoing orgasm from his "partner".
Still, Ma Yau didn't like it, not one bit. He headed off for the
bathroom to start to run the water in the tub.
And he swore that in the back of his mind, he could hear
Bok Min laughing at him.