Title: Double Vision
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Ten.5
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: NC-17
Table: 50_smutlets
Prompt: 26, Twins
Author's Note: The human version of the Doctor is being referred to as John Smith in this fic, since it's the Doctor's human alias and his clone needed a name.
Author's Note: Spoilers for Journey's End, somewhat. This is an completely alternate take on the ending of Season Four.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor, or his human clone. Please do not sue.

***

"Isn't this a bit strange for you?" the Doctor's clone asked him as they made their way to the bedroom they shared on the Tardis.

"Strange in what way?" The Doctor answered the question with another question, raising his eyebrows as he regarded the other man. "Do you mean having a relationship with someone who looks exactly like me? Yes, of course it's strange. But not unpleasant."

"It isn't only that I look just like you," his clone replied, shaking his head. "It's that I am you, for all intents and purposes. Doesn't that bother you just a bit? That you're more or less having sex with .... yourself?"

"So it can be looked at as an odd form of masturbation," the Doctor laughed, leading the way into their bedroom and starting to strip off his jacket. "I've never had a problem with that -- and being with you is much more interesting than being with my hand."

The other Doctor blushed, lowering his gaze as he took off his own jacket and started to unbutton his shirt. "It might be seen as being more than a little vain -- but I don't think I could have sex with anyone else. I wouldn't want to."

"Neither would I," the Doctor told him, moving to the other man and brushing his hands away. "Let me do that," he said softly, his dark eyes meeting his clone's gaze.

He could feel the other man trembling under his touch; that was more than a little surprising. He'd never had that sort of an effect on anyone before -- at least not that he knew of -- and he didn't see why his clone would tremble at his touch.

After all, this man knew him better than anyone else. They shared the same memories, and even though they were different entities now, there was enough of him in his clone for the other man to know that he had nothing to fear from him in any way.

"Don't look at it as being with yourself," he whispered as he undid the last button, sliding the other Doctor's shirt from his shoulders, his hands moving to the zipper of his trousers. "Look at it as making love with .... your twin."

The other man's hands were busy with the buttons of the Doctor's shirt, seeming more at ease undressing his lover than himself. "That would be just as unacceptable to most people -- at least the ones we know on Earth."

The Doctor smiled, leaning forward slightly to brush his lips over his clone's. "It might be socially unacceptable, but that isn't going to stop me. Even if it might seem strange to some people, to me this feels more right than anything I've ever done."

"I feel the same way," the other man whispered, the near-kiss leaving him breathless. He closed his eyes, shivering as his trousers fell to his ankles.

Had he gotten the Doctor's clothes off that quickly? The other man was stepping out of his own trousers, moving closer to him; he could feel the heat radiating from the Time Lord's body, his own body tightening in response, his breath coming faster.

He didn't care what others might think of their relationship. That didn't matter; the only thing that mattered was that he was here, with the Doctor, that the other man had chosen him, that they had this time together.

His hand moved down the back of one smooth thigh, his palm cupping the curve of the Time Lord's ass and squeezing gently; he was rewarded by a soft moan from the man in his arms as he moved them to the bed and pushed the Doctor down on the silk sheets.

How was it that the tables were so easily turned between them? In the moments when the other man had been leading him down the hallway, the Doctor had seemed to be in control -- but that obviously wasn't the case now.

Not that he minded -- in fact, he was more comfortable being the one in control. Maybe that was because he was the "new" one of the two of them -- he needed to assert himself, to find out who he was, to know that he could lead instead of follow.

The Doctor certainly didn't seem to mind; no, the other man turned the reins of control over to him easily, offering himself up with no reservations.

He reached for the table by the bed, pulling open the small drawer and fumbling in it; his fingers instictively closed around the small tube without having to look at it. Strange how he knew where it was from memory -- or was that his memory at all?

It didn't matter. All he could focus on was the man under him; the Doctor was moaning softly, his eyes closed, his cheeks flushed, lips parted, looking more abandoned than his clone could ever remember seeing him.

This man was his, he thought as he bent down to press a kiss against the Time Lord's parted lips, moving his mouth down to swirl his tongue around one hardened nipple, then the other. His to touch, his to kiss .... his to love.

One hand moved between the Doctor's legs, gently parting his thighs, a slicked finger pressing against his entrance insistently before sliding inside him.

He wasn't even inside the Doctor yet, and he could already feel the beat of his single heart accelerate to an impossible rhythm; his desire for the other man was at such a fever pitch that he was afraid he wouldn't be able to last long once they were joined.

Taking a deep breath, he slid another slick finger inside the Time Lord; the Doctor opened those dark eyes and looked up at him, their gazes locking and holding as though they were each gazing into a mirror.

He caught his breath; those eyes seemed to tear through him, searing him to his very soul. Moving quickly, he slipped his fingers out of the Time Lord, positioning himself at the other man's entrance, barely hearing the Doctor's whispered words over the pounding of his heart.

"Take me."

With an incoherent cry, he complied with the Time Lord's request, thrusting into the other man with an unexpected force. He could feel those long legs wrap around him, the Doctor's nails digging into his back, heat flaring through every fiber of his being.

Were they two -- or one? The human Doctor couldn't tell where the other man ended and he began; maybe they had never become two separate people. Maybe this was the way they were always meant to be -- one entity, their very existence dependent on each other.

He cried out wordlessly as he thrust again and again into the slick heat of the Doctor's body, his senses inextricably entwined with the Time Lord's, feeling as though he would be seared to ashes in the scorching heat that threatened to engulf him.

All too soon, it was ending -- his release surged through him, followed only seconds later by the Doctor's soft cry, the other man's body going limp in his arms.

His heart was starting to return to a normal rate; he could feel his breathing slowing, his body relaxing. He shifted his position carefully so that his weight wasn't pressing the Doctor down, still buried inside the other man, not wanting to pull out of him just yet.

Was this wrong? Should he feel like this about the man who was his mirror image, his double, his twin? The clone Doctor closed his eyes, pushing those thoughts away from him. He didn't care if it was wrong. His feelings weren't going to change.

And even if others thought it was wrong, the two of them didn't. They were both exactly where they wanted to be -- where they belonged.

As far as he was concerned, nothing else mattered -- or ever would.

***