To Be With Me Act 2 - Valentine
"It's fine, you can go to bed without me."
That was the sentence I had been hearing more and more often as the days went by. It had been a little over a month since "Hadrian" had appeared. At this point, I had more or less come to terms with the fact that he's a clone or me, or at least a copy of some sorts. Or maybe I actually just didn't want to think about it all, I'm not sure. What I knew was that it was nice. It was nice to always have someone with you, someone you could talk to and share things, especially since it was yourself, so there wasn't anything to hide. On the contrary, hiding things would've been the odd thing to do. It was also nice because, since we were the same, we could enjoy the same things for the exact same reasons. It probably sounds incredibly boring to most, but I never found it to be. I found it nice to have someone to relate so closely to. But at this point, a month after his appearance, it seemed as though he might not agree with me. As if he was ever so slowly trying his best to distance himself from me. Like he was now.
"Don't worry about me; I just need to finish this and then I might read a little."
It was another of those small things he'd say, trying to get some alone time, I suppose. It wasn't as if I didn't respect him wanting to be alone, I just didn't realize he wanted it, since I never wanted to be alone, and we were the same. I also might have been more persuadable if he had said what he wanted instead of wrapping it up so neatly. Or maybe not. Who can really tell. But As I carried these thoughts with me for some time, I finally got my answer.
"So, Rian-"
"That's not my name."
"Right, sorry, Hadrian. I was just wondering if maybe, you wanted to, y'know...?"
"No."
He sighed deeply right before saying it. He then turned around on his side, facing away from me. To be honest, I didn't really want to do anything myself, but I was curious as to what he would answer.
"Are you," I hesitated, "Are you a-avoiding me?"
I didn't get an answer from him. He didn't move at all. I assumed he went to sleep. In turn, I rolled over on my side and felt anxious. Had I done something against him? Had I caused him some kind of distress? Was he even enjoying the sex? Thousands, no, millions of such thoughts went through my head, and before I knew it I had fallen asleep and was waking up again; as if I had only blinked once.
After that night, I knew that he was avoiding me, yet he wasn't going to tell me. He started waking up long before me - or maybe I just woke up later than him, given that I didn't get much sleep at the time. He started going to school without me, going running or go for a bicycle ride without me. He was beginning to detach himself from me. And not only him, it seemed as if the world itself was beginning to accept his existence. What I mean is, it was around this time that people slowly began to acknowledge him; greet him, talk to him, look at him.
One day, while he was doing some reading - Whether it was recreational or homework, I don't know - and I was just lounging about, he turned to me.
"Hadrian, there's something I've been wanting to tell you."
I turned my gaze towards him.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I, uh." he paused for a moment, "I want you to stop calling me Hadrian."
"What?"
I sat up and directed all of my attention towards him. I remember that I wasn't as surprised as I may have looked. Afterall, though I tried to deny it, I knew he had changed.
"Yeah, uhm. I don't want you calling me Hadrian anymore - nobody else really does that, because, well, because it's not my name."
"What're you taking about? Hadrian's not your name? Why wouldn't it be? I mean, It's my name so-"
"Exactly, it's YOUR name. It's not my name. And frankly, it never has been."
"Sure it is! You're me afterall!"
At this mention, he started yelling. I don't blame him.
"No. No I am not you. And you are not me; We? We are not the same. Our bodies might be the same, but my body is not all I am. I am not you, and Hadrian is not my name!"
"Then what is your name?"
"My name is Valentine."
I felt his lips on my neck. He alternated between small kisses, large kisses, and downright sucking. I knew I'd get a hickey there, and a bad one at that. He raised himself a bit so that he could look at me. We didn't say anything. We just looked at each other. I wouldn't even say we stared, for it was nothing more than a brief moment. He leaned down again and we kissed. My whole body felt how the passion slowly was building up inside, turning into lust little by little. He broke off the kiss and gave another of those soul-gazing looks before he elegantly crawled towards the other end of the bed. He kissed my body in his descent; from my neck to my chest and down my stomach. He stopped right above my groin.
"Valentine, I love you." He said to me.
I was surprised by the statement and my face immediately began to flush with redness. I didn't get to fully get embarrassed, however, as he took my cock into his mouth. He began sucking me off, starting slowly, making sure I felt everything. I closed my eyes. Partly out of the embarrassment from before, but also because I wanted to focus on the feeling. His pace quickened a bit as he also began taking more of me. Soon, he was trying to take it all in one go. And he did. I placed my hands gently on the backside of his head, and as he successfully took all of me, I curled my body upwards. I could distinctly feel my cock in his throat, and I think the thought of it just made the experience all the better. Afterwards, he returned to sucking me off. Soon, I could feel the edge somewhere in the distance. I lightly tapped his shoulder and opened my eyes. He stopped instantly, and faster than I had thought, his face was locked with mine once again.
"Let me bottom this time" He said softly, almost a whisper.
I nodded. He smiled. I was glad. I like making sure Jonathan's enjoying it. But of course, I want to make sure I'm enjoying it too, otherwise it would be no fun. Even though Jonathan said he would bottom, he always wanted to be 'on top'. It was a favorite of his, he had told me. He grabbed a condom and with expertise he put it on me.
"I can put it on myself y'know"
"Shh, it's more sexy this way; theatrical, if you will"
I chuckled, but he was right, actually. It was kind of sexy.
He wasted no time after the condom was on; in a flash he was on top of me, slowly easing his way down on my dick. His brows furrowed slightly - the way they do when you experience something really pleasurable. Or perhaps it's only something that happens during sex - and I could see he held his breath slightly. As for me, I was slowly ascending to heaven. About as slowly as he was moving. And also because of that slowness, I felt every little thing. It was amazing, but at this speed we would be going for ages, and I couldn't take it. I began to lift my pelvis upwards to meet him. He let go of his breath in a pant. In this way, we kind of worked together to speed it up. Jonathan leaned forward, resting his body on mine, his hands resting on my shoulders, albeit a bit awkwardly. He had more or less given the initiative to me, which worked out great, as I enjoyed things a bit faster than his usual. I was grinding my dick in and out of him, as deep as I could get while still keeping the speed steady. And Jonathan was loving it. Jonathan was a really quiet lover. That is, unless he was bottom'ing, then he'd be very loud, actually. He was rocking his body to the rhythm, his own cock caught between our stomachs. I was mostly focused on fucking him. I could hear on the way he sounded, that he was getting close, so I sped up a bit. He got up in a more sitting-like position, and then he started coming. As he came on my stomach and my chest, I kept fucking him, right until he was completely done. I took me a little bit of extra time, but I eventually got there. I moaned briefly, and I made a couple of really deep thrusts as I came.
Luckily, we didn't make too much of a mess, so the cleanup was relatively quickly done with. Before falling asleep, Jonathan kissed me and whispered,
"I love you, My Valentine".
---- Valentine walked in the door and sat on the bed. The current scenario was usually the other way around, and it was like everything had shifted; like the world itself had been turned upside down. Valentine was lying on the bed, now with earbuds in and music on, while I was sitting at our desk, studying. I had been lacking in schoolwork a lot lately. I really needed to study. And I was doing fine, right up until Valentine appeared. It was so rarely I saw him these days. Valentine was usually spending the night with some guy, just to show up at school the day after. When Valentine wasn't there, there was silence. Well, a kind of silence. It was like he didn't exist. For just a brief moment, I was just Hadrian, living my own individual life. Of course, I was also living my 'own individual life' when Valentine was there - Valentine made sure to remind me of that, by referring to his own individuality - but it was still different when I was alone. I spoke to himself sometimes, just to fill in the gaps. At least that's what I told myself.
"Have you ever wondered if perhaps you are a clone of me?" Valentine said.
It didn't just break the silence, it shattered it and scattered all the little pieces on the floor, and you wouldn't be able to walk on the floor without getting a splinter of the question stuck in your foot. Unavoidable. And as a reflection of the unavoidable, yet still unanswered question, my mind shattered because what if it was true? What if I wasn't the 'original'? That would mean that all my memories were false, or at least, not entirely my own. That they were all artificial in some way, acquired in that moment of appearance, some months ago when I woke up besides Valentine.
"Huh, I've never thought of it that way before." I said.
I returned to my studies after the brief interruption. I couldn't really say anything else. I felt my hands start to shake, and a cold sweat beginning on my forehead.
"Really? With so much thinking about this whole "clone"-thing, I would've assumed that you'd have thought of it." Valentine said.
To be honest I had. I had thought about it. But I didn't want to. I was scared. I didn't want to think about it, because then I wouldn't know what to do with myself. Would I just continue living as I did? Or would I try to break away and be someone else? I guess in that moment, I understood Valentine a little better, without knowing it.
"Well, I'll see you later Hadrian."
"Wait, what? Where are you going?"
"Meeting with a friend."
That's what He'd say, but it was rarely just a friend. It was usually some guy - a stranger - with whom he would have sex.
"Oh. Well, see you later then."
As he left, he laid a hand on my shoulder. It was like he knew how shaken up I was by the question he had asked. And it still there, partly on the floor. And Valentine would just leave the mess. As the door closed, I stopped everything and put my head in my hands. I needed to really think.
"I'm Hadrian." I said.
I repeated that sentence to myself many many times, as it consoled me in some odd way. After that day, I began to really think about me and Valentine. Why Valentine was becoming and individual. And I understood it. I got it. The answer, to that unanswered question was that it didn't matter. I was sure that I would find a better answer in the future, but at the time, I just needed to let it be. Acknowledge it, but not let it take over every thought of mine. Instead, my every thought was occupied by Valentine. For as much as he was gone, his presence haunted my mind day and night. It was terrible. Unbearable. It was infuriatingly frustrating, thinking about someone constantly, when you were trying to do basically everything else but that. It was like someone was mocking me. Laughing behind my back.
Worst of them all were my thoughts at night. Especially when Valentine wasn't there. Because he would still be there, in my thoughts. And he'd whisper to me, though he had never done so before. His would whisper of secrets and desire I'm sure the real Valentine never had. And he'd whisper them to me, Hadrian. And I would listen. I would listen all night to those whispers. The more I listened, the louder they were. Soft spoken words, caressing me in the dark. I sometimes closed my eyes, so that I could picture him before me. On one hand, I felt ashamed of thinking of hime like that, but on the other it was nonsense to be ashamed, as we had literally had sex before. But perhaps I had been thinking wrongly at the time? Now, I was able to see him more as a human, and I'm kind of knew, that that was what scared me. He wasn't "mine" anymore. And the realization that he actually never had been anything close to "mine" was devastating. Devastating but necessary. And yet, in my mind he was still mine. And in my mind, he would always be mine.
His voice whispery reached my ears yet again, and I felt a warmth emit from my core, slowly centring around my groin and inner thighs. With closed eyes, I reached down and felt my dick getting hard. I imagined my hand being Valentine's and instantly I was hard. I was impatient and immediately grabbed it, and started a steady, rhythmic pace. To the imaginary sound and image of Valentine, I, as I had done many times before and would do many times again, began to jerk off. Moments later, I was already starting to pant, and I sped up a bit. His image was kissing my neck, my chin and my chest. His image was caressing my thighs, my hips and my ass.
"Hadrian." The image whispered to me
I could feel how the edge was slowly building up in my balls. I was panting often now, my face grimaced in what would have looked like worry, and my hand clenching my cock, moving fast and slightly haphazardly up and down. I was really nearing the edge, and just as I was about to come, the image whispered,
"Hadrian, I love you."
I moaned softly as I came on my stomach. My body relaxed. I was hot and sweaty, and for a second before cleaning myself off, I just lay there. Thinking. I became aware of just how dependent on Valentine I was, and I started to weep. I wept not because of how dependant I was, but because of how independent he was.
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