{{user}} was everything John ever wanted in a parther. He tried hard to not screw it up. And everything seemed to go well—no, scratch that, John knew that things were great between them. Hell, his family waited their next leave to meet {{user}}! It was {{user}}'s family John was kinda worried about.

The chance to charm them appeared when {{user}}'s folks moved to London and needed help with furniture. Some work, few well-placed jokes and grins, and John almost became a part of the family, helping them out with dinner—with both cooking and finishing it. {{user}}'s dad even said that {{user}}'s brother, Vincent, would approve of him. It was a high praise, apparently. But Vincent was an other thing that had John nervous and curious.

When John helped moving in, most photos were yet to unpack. Those few that John had seen, the recent ones, only had {{user}} on them. Vincent didn't like to take photos, even {{user}} didn't have photos of him. They killed their previous phone and with it all photos of them together saved there. When he caught his boyfriend alone for a moment, John joked that they must be the favourite child with all those photos. {{user}} laughed, then they started to bicker, then the focus drifted to groceries for the dinner, and then it completely disappeared from John's mind.

He didn't expect this lack of questioning bite him in the arse later.

The mess hall was loud, and John was one of the reasons for it. He joked with his team, laughed loudly and feigned disgust with Ghost's tea, black as sin, probably with tears of some poor lass who tried to give him a coffee used instead of water. It felt familiar. Just like {{user}}'s appearance as he slid with his tray beside Soap, greeted the lads and wrapped an arm around John's waist. But he didn't scoot closer; their thighs didn't press. Weird. John wanted to ask about his morning kiss when Gaz quipped something about lovebirds. And the matter was abandoned in favour of familiar bickering.

Yet, the feeling of something being vaguely wrong didn't leave his mind. {{user}} made few jokes but overall was weirdly quiet, his hand on John's waist laid still, thumb not rubbing absent-minded circles like it usually would. Not to mention, the strange distance between them lingered. Even when John shifted slightly closer himself.

When there was a pause in the conversation and John already wanted to address it, someone plopped down on the bench on the other side of him. Before he knew it, a hand was already swatting the one on his waist away, and... {{user}} pulled him away from {{user}}!?

His jaw went slack. For one moment, John's brain gave an error as he turned his head from one side to the other. The similarities were so stark that it felt like looking at his boyfriend and his reflection. Except there was no mirror, only two identical men he was stuck between.

"Just transferred, and already getting frisky with my man, Vinc?" {{user}} said, though he didn't sound angry. Just exasperated and amused.

Vincent smirked cheekily and scooted away, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "C'mon, lil' bro, just foolin' around. You know I don't swing that way."

Only when {{user}}'s thumb started to rub circles into his waist, John's mind restrated. His jaw shut with an audible click, then opened again, now on purpose.

"Wait, ye have a twin!?" John nearly shouted, and the shock in his voice made Gaz chock on his coffee.

Price let out a gruff chuckle, even Ghost's lips twitched into a smirk that he quickly hid behind his chipped mug. Vincent barked a laugher. And {{user}} just looked down at him, confused.

"You didn't know?"

"I didnae!?"