Work Text:
"I been t'inking somethings." Skwisgaar announced. "Dese guys looks like us, but dey coulds be better at actings likes us, ja?"
"Yeaah," Pickle slurred, slapping his double on the back loudly. "Yeh haven't been drinkin' enough, dood, you're makin me look like a lightweight. Have another beeeer!"
"You coulds works out wid me!" Toki's head snapped around to his double. "Nos offense, but yous looking a little flabbsy latelies."
"YEEAAAH!" Nathan roared, standing up in the hot tub, stark naked and sloshing beer out of his bottle. "Let's- Let's do that! C'mon, me, let's toss around the old pigskin!" He sat back down with a splash, too drunk to understand the concept but eager to be involved, and threw an arm around his nervous-looking double's neck.
"Ja, and yous coulds be better at playings guitar when yous pretendings to be me. I coulds shows you some t'ings, just so yous don't makes me look like a dildos." Skwisgaar suggested, all while silently fingering his guitar strings. Murderface looked to be at a loss, and gave a great snort of indignation, sending little globs of mucus into the hot tub.
"ALRIGHT, COME ON YOU FAT PIESCHE OF SCHIT." He stood up as well, giving them all a faceful of gnarled, calloused, musically talented cock, then promptly turned and stepped out, presenting an equally scarring view of his hairy cottage cheese ass. "We're gonna go schoot some schit!" His double stoically followed suit, stopping only to get a towel, something Murderface had failed to do. After that, they quickly dispersed. Two pickles, both slightly green, heading off to the kitchen for more alcohol, Tokis racing to the personal gym, and Nathan dragging his double out by the hand, insisting that his 'cool bladed boomerang' would make a decent substitute for a football. Only Skwisgaar and his double remained, still twanging out flat notes.
"Yous could use a lot of works, act-u-skallies." Skwisgaar said, looking over at his double. "What's yous name, dildo?"
"Dan, milord." None of the doubles had been prompted to speak by one of them yet, but when they were, it was part of their contract that they must call them 'milord', or be subject to immediate termination. It burned his tongue to say it, but he was on a mission. "Don't I need a guitar, milord?"
"Dans. Lets me lets yous in on a little secrets." Skwisgaar smirked down at his guitar, still plucking the strings ceaselessly. "It is not all abouts de guitars playings, mostly. I means, ja, I ams de best and fastest guitarists in de world, but dat is not alls dat makes me so greats, you knows?" He glanced up again, this time with a mischievious grin, and lifted his guitar off his shoulders, setting it aside. "It ams also because we ams de sexiest man alive. Did you knows dat?"
"No, milord." He was getting a bad feeling, the hairs on the back of his neck starting to raise.
"Ja. It ams big responskibilities, you knows. You needs to be able to live up to de name, if yous sharing it wid me." He waggled his eyebrows. "You knows. You needs to be tops notch at seduc-kings de ladies, just in case you ever needs dat. Does yous have a families?"
"No, milord."
"No wifes at home, tellings you whats to wears and when yous can use your dicks?"
"No, milord."
"Yous don't be needings to call me dat, is sillies now." He was creeping closer, almost imperceptibly, but Daniel Smith had been a soldier many years, and his trained eyes detected it. "Yous can calls me by my names. And I will calls you by my names too, ja? As practice." Pouty, effeminate lips spread into a wicked smile.
"Milord, I signed a contract-"
"I don't wants to hear about no contracts, Skwisgaar. Wes de same person, and yous would not call yous self 'milord', woulds you? You calls me Skwisgaar."
"I'm really not comfortable with that, milord." Dan was trying to lean away from him, but the guitarist had him locked in a gaze.
"Comfortable? Now, dat is not somet'ing I woulds says. And dat is more of a t'reat to yous job den some contracts, hm?" Skwisgaar smiled, and put his arm around his doppelganger's shoulder, and Dan felt goosebumps raise on his arms, even under the hot water. For a moment, Dan, who thought of himself as one of the world's most experienced assassins, felt the tremble of fear in his belly at the thought of this man's highly ambiguous sexuality.
"Relax! Wes just hangings out." Skwisgaar patted Dan awkwardly on the shoulder, his widening pupils telling of how he smelled the man's fear, and fed on it.
"Milord, I nee-" Dan flexed his legs to stand, but the guitarist locked his arm with surprising strength, restraining him. His hands balled into fists instinctively, but he forced himself not to punch the man out. He deserved more than a few broken teeth for this.
"No, no, no, what you needs is to gets de feel of my cool, you knows?" Shoulder to shoulder, Skwisgaar gave him a come-hither stare, roiling Dan's lunch. "Does you even has a ladies friend?" He smirked.
"Yeah." He answered sharply, forgetting himself. He had no intention of talking about his real girlfriend, but his indignation at this treatment had gotten the better of him for a moment.
"Dere we gos!" Skwisgaar's voice dropped in pitch, and Dan thought he felt a long finger sneaking down his chest, but he forced himself to ignore it. "And you fucks her, ja? Just her?"
"Yes."
"Well, dats gonna haves to change." He chuckled darkly. "Everybodies wants to fuck Skwisgaar. Womens, Mens, even de little 13 years old girls wants to dos it wid me. You gots to be cool, but stills sexy." Dan felt fingers in his hair, clenching his teeth. "Can you shows me sexy, Skwisgaar?" Skwisgaar was oblivious, clearly having mentally superimposed the image of his own face onto Dan's. He felt the swede's other hand brush his thigh and started to jump up again, only to immediately have his ass grabbed, and be yanked into a kiss. It lasted almost a full second before the soldier launched himself off Skwisgaar's chest, flying backwards into the hot tub and cracking his head on the marble bottom. The last thing he saw before blackness consumed him was the wavering shape from under the water of a cock with a pale blond thatch descending on him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~epilogue
Lieutenant Colonel Daniel Smith awoke from a fevered dream of tall trees with blonde bushes in the hospital wing of Mordhaus a few hours later with an unfamiliar taste in his mouth. Skwisgaar was by his side, playing guitar solemnly in time with the beeping of the monitor.
"Hey, yous awake! How yous feeling, Skwisgaar?" He looked instantly cheered by the sight of his lookalike opening his eyes. The doctor came in right on cue, and Skwisgaar stood up. "He's okay, rights?" He didn't wait for an answer. "You sends him to my bedroom when yous done, we gots some more stuff to practice."