Disclaimer: This work is of pure fiction with real life inspiration and any resemblance of the characters and settings to real life persons, events, circumstances, etc. is purely coincidental. This work involves the workings of love between consenting characters of teenage years and some stuff you might find offensive. If you are not a fan of this kind of literature, please proceed somewhere else. You know who you are and you should know whether or not to read this stuff. Think about the legal, moral and all those other shitty lines you might be crossing. This is not a quick jack off story. I do not own the lyrics to any song, quotes, book or excerpt referred to in this story.

Now, seeing as you're enjoying Nifty's wonderful archive, maybe it's time you let Nifty enjoy a share of what you have. Dont be shy to click here >> Donate

A/N: For those of you who are not familiar with my writing style, I tend to jump from one time perspective to the other. The whole story follows chronological events, but the past can come up sometimes. That said, this little reminder right here should be your guide:


Paragraphs in italic are intended to be as flashbacks.
Otherwise, all other paragraphs in regular, unformatted font adheres to the present time perspective.

© kkrimson © Oran 2014


~Captured~
Speeding Off


Ever since Luke can remember, he dreamed of sitting behind the wheel of the fastest race car on earth and leaving all his opponents behind him in a trail of dust. All his toys were cars of different models, but the one he liked best was his remote controlled Ferrari F138. He loved it so much that he even slept with it once.

"You'll break it," Foster had warned him.

Sure enough, the front wheel fell off when he woke up. His dad fixed it and it was brand new again.

"Fosie, I'll be the fastest and baddest driver on earth!"

"Faster, Lu," Foster said and giggled at his brother's antics.

They were seated on their bed with Luke right at the edge with his feet dangling over the sheets. His arms were held out in front of him and he was holding a Frisbee. In his own little head, he was driving a Ferrari with Foster in the passenger seat. Not his beloved F138, but a sports car this time.

"You're going off the track!" Foster yelled.

Luke tilted to his right and Foster followed. The sports car drifted before speeding down the straight road ahead of them. Luke stepped on the accelerator and shifted gears. They were both leaning back on their seats as the buildings and trees they passed blurred outside each of their windows.

"C'mon, Lu! They're gaining on us!"

The sports car went even faster, almost in blinding speed. Luke already had the pedal to the metal, but he wanted more speed. Foster held nervously to his arm and they soon saw their opponents vanishing from the side mirrors.

And the flag was waved over the finish line.

"Awesome! You beat `em! You beat `em!" Foster yelled and bounced excitedly on the bed.

"I'm the baddest!" Luke quipped and released the steering wheel as he raised his arms. Well, his right hand was still holding onto it.

Both boys giggled and fell down on the bed. Their legs were still dangling over the edge and Luke still had the Frisbee in one hand. They looked at each other and started laughing once again. They both looked silly, they thought.

"I think I'm cuter than you," Foster said.

"No you're not!" argued Luke. "I'm waaay cuter than you."

"We're twins, silly."

"Then we're both cute."

They agreed and Luke finally threw the Frisbee to the corner of their room before snuggling to Foster. His brother held him, his head just under Foster's chin. He hugged his twin closer and closed his eyes.

"Boys!" their mum called from downstairs. "Time for your nap."

They smiled and let themselves sleep in each other's embrace.

~*~*~*~

Back at the twin's grandmum's house, Harry and Foster was still deeply engaged in their conversation. The adults had left them which gave them some privacy, at Foster's request.

"You can be his doctor," Harry said.

"I'm 11, Harry. I can't be his doctor right now."

"But you will be. You promised him."

"You don't understand, do you?"

"What? What am I s'posed to understand? You left Luke and he thinks you're dead. That's all I'm getting."

"He won't take his meds and radiation `coz I'm not his doctor," Foster told him. "If he waits for me to be one, he'll die. Can't you see? He needs a real doctor. Not me."

"But why did you have to die? Can't you just...talk to him? Bribe him or something!"

"What Lu wants, he always gets. Our mum and dad didn't spoil him, but I did."

"So?"

"He wants me to be his doctor. He won't take his meds from anyone else but me."

"Then be a doctor," Harry said definitely.

"Huh?"

"Put a coat on and a ste-steth..."

"Stethoscope," Foster finished for Harry's sake while giggling at the boy's struggle with the word. "You want me to dress up as a doctor?"

"Yeah. Be his doctor and make him take his meds."

"Is he taking them already?"

Harry could vividly see the determination behind Luke's eyes when the boy took his meds. Luke had the will to live and grow up.

"He is," he told Foster.

"Then he doesn't need a pretend doctor."

"But he misses you so much, Foster. Don't you miss him, too?"

"Of course I do," Foster mumbled. "But he's better off without me. He'll grow up and when he's healthy again..."

"You'd show up? As easy as that?"

Foster stared at Harry's unamused eyes. The brown-eyed boy had stolen the words from his mouth. He had planned on showing up after Luke's treatment. But after that...he didn't know what to do next. Would Luke be happy to see him? Would he be mad for leaving him?

"He loves you so much, y'know," Harry quietly said. "He doesn't show it, but I know it hurt when you left him. He even blames himself for not coming to your fake funeral."

"But he's doing so much better now," Foster whispered. "I can't keep spoiling him."

"You didn't have to die."

"I already did."

They both fell silent and their eyes were glued to the floor. Harry, who sat in front of Foster, was still trying to understand why Foster needed to fake his death just to have Luke take his treatment again.

"How...," Harry spoke. "How did you tell him that you can't be his doctor?"

"Our mum told him that. I told her to tell him that I died."

"And she agreed to it? Even your dad?"

"They didn't have a choice, Harry. It was either my fake death or Lu's real one. They didn't agree to it at first, but when I started shouting that I hated Lu, they finally gave in. It was really hard to get him to take his meds and I was the only one who could calm him down. But that didn't mean that he'd take the drugs.

"When I told mum that I don't want to see him again, she started playing along with my fake death. My mum told him something...it was s'posed to make him take his meds again."

"What did she tell him?" Harry asked, seeing how Foster was smiling sheepishly.

"`Don't you die or I'll kill you when I see you in heaven,'" Foster answered. "That's what I made her tell him."

Harry actually found it funny, but he didn't laugh. Instead, he stared disbelievingly at Foster who was chuckling and blushing at the same time.

"I guess he got my point, right?" Foster quipped.

"Yeah. He did."

"Can you guess how I died?"

Harry sighed loudly and rolled his eyes before saying, "You got hit by a car."

~*~*~*~

Foster was only supposed to buy the same ice cream cones he bought, but his eyes had drifted toward a weird kid who was pointing his camera to different directions all at once. After he bought his ice cream cones, he decided to look back at the boy and saw the camera pointing toward him. In that split second, he smiled and continued down the path back to the hospital.

He had thought about the boy. He didn't see the boy's face since it was hidden behind the camera. It only made him wonder who the boy behind the lenses were. While he kept thinking of Harry, his feet absently led him down the familiar path back to the hospital. He needed to cross two blocks to get there.

His mind drifted back to reality when he felt something cold dripping down his fingers. The ice cream cones were starting to melt. He sighed and licked off each of his hands. Chocolate, then strawberry. One for him and one for Luke.

When he was about to cross the street, he looked left then right. It was probably on instinct, but his dad had always told him to be careful when crossing roads. There were no vehicles passing by. The traffic signal told him it was safe to cross.

Halfway toward the other side, he heard rubber grinding on road. There was a corner not far from the pedestrian lane. Seconds after that, he saw a car drifting to one side before heading toward him.

When Foster got hit by the speeding car, it wasn't his death that flashed before his eyes. For a brief second, he saw his own distorted reflection on the car's windshield and thought of his brother. Death was coming straight toward Luke.

He froze in the middle of the road. The car screeched to a halt while trying to avoid him, but he still got hit. He had put his right foot forward before he froze. The car's hood had hit his leg and sent him rolling a few feet down the road. He didn't lose consciousness. The pain was too much that it kept him awake and screaming. The next thing he heard was the siren of an ambulance rushing to the scene. He was rushed to the ER and his mum was quickly by his side. She hadn't told Luke about the accident. And before she could even break the news to the boy, Foster told her something that was absolutely crazy at first, but her son did have a point. Foster's idea could actually work and save Luke's life.

Amazingly, he still had the ice cream cones in his hands, but without the ice cream on it. Chocolate, then strawberry. Both colours mixed with his blood.

~*~*~*~

"I was such an idiot," Foster said. "I swear, I looked left and right before I crossed."

"It wasn't your fault," Harry told him. "What happened to the driver?"

"Turns out he was drunk racing, not drag racing which would've been cool. He got arrested and he paid for my bills."

"Then what? How'd you get the idea of faking your death?"

Foster thought for a moment. The idea had hit him as fast as the speeding car did. It somehow flashed before his eyes. His own death could probably save Luke's life.

"If I died, Lu can't have me as his doctor. I told my mum about it and she took care of the rest."

As simple as that, Foster died and left his twin fighting his own battle.

"What if...," Harry said, "what if I told Luke that you're still alive?"

"You can't tell him that!" Foster quickly answered. "He'll be devastated!"

"Your mum said the same thing over the phone. I thought you hated your twin so much and that she didn't want to tell Luke about that."

"She's right `bout that," Foster mumbled. "I dunno if she still thinks that I hate Lu, but I really don't."

"I don't understand any of this," Harry said frustratingly. "I can't understand."

"You don't need to, Harry. You only need to know two things. I'm dead and Lu's alive."

"That's it?" Harry asked and Foster nodded.

"That's it."

"You still love him, don't you?"

"Very much."

Somehow, it had calmed Harry's nerves. He didn't feel so angry at Foster anymore, but he still didn't like the way that the boy lied to his twin brother.

"You love him, Harry?"

The question had caught him off-guard. If it wasn't for Foster's high pitched boyish voice, he would've thought that an adult asked him that. The way Foster sounded...there was just so much maturity in the boy's words.

"Very much," he admitted.

"I look like him, y'know."

Harry stared blankly at Foster. He still couldn't see Luke in the boy. There seemed to be a huge difference between the twins right now. It was easy to tell who's Foster and who's Luke.

"I think he loves you, too." Foster whispered.

"Twintuition."

"Yeah. I know what he's thinking."

Harry nodded and turned his gaze away from the boy in front of him. He looked toward the cars driving down the road and some kids riding their bikes. It was a peaceful neighbourhood. One that he could probably call home.

"How come you're not sick?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"Luke told me that one of you gets sick when you're kept apart. How come you're not?"

"I don't feel good at all, y'know. I can't play outside and...it hurts right here."

Harry looked to where Foster's hand settled. The boy's heart. Of course it should hurt right there.

"Lu's getting better, but I know that it hurts right here for him, too."

"He's lonely."

Foster nodded sadly and thought of what his brother had gone through. He thought back to the time when Luke's dream of becoming the baddest race car driver got lost along with his hair.

~*~*~*~

"Fosie! Fosie, wake up!"

Foster was shook awake violently by Luke. The blanket that they shared was tangled up in their legs and Luke was sitting on his lap, his voice fearful and it almost sounded like he was whimpering.

"What? What is it, Lu?" he mumbled sleepily.

"My hair's falling out."

"Huh?" Foster opened his eyes and blinked several times to see his brother's face right above his.

"It's falling out, Fosie. My...my hair."

Foster sat up and his brother climbed off his lap. Luke was crying so he pulled his twin for a hug and started rubbing the boy's back. The whimpers came and went. Foster didn't say a word. Instead, he just shushed the boy with his embrace.

"I don't want to lose all of it," Luke mumbled on his shirt.

"The doctor said it's fine, Lu. You'll grow it back when you're all better."

"But we won't look alike anymore. They'll all know who's Foster and who's Luke."

Foster giggled and pushed his brother gently away from him. He looked back into Luke's puffy red eyes and brushed the boy's fringe to one side. He wondered how his twin would look like without hair on his head.

"Want me to shave my head so we'll still look alike?"

"You mean it?"

"Uh-huh."

Luke thought for a while before answering, "No."

"Why not?"

"Coz you look cute with your hair on," Luke said. "It's not fair that you're bald just `coz I am."

"You sure?"

"Uh-huh." Luke nodded before he leaned in and placed a quick kiss on Foster's lips.

Ever since they were little, kissing had been natural for them. It made them feel better and it always made them giggle. Their mum told them not to do it in public and they heeded her advice. When they were in the house, they would always sit close and cuddle and kiss.

"At least the wind won't mess up your hair when we go out driving," Foster said.

"Yeah." Luke smiled. "It'll be like wearing a helmet already."

"Fasten your seatbelt, Lu."

Luke smiled and moved over to the edge of the bed. His legs dropped over the edge, finding the accelerator. Foster moved beside him and fastened his own seatbelt. The crowd roared, the engines revved and the drivers got ready behind their wheels. The countdown began, the lights turned red then yellow before the go signal flashed before Luke's eyes. He stepped on the gas and they both sped off down the track as they quickly took the lead.

"Faster, Lu!"

Luke nodded vigorously and shifted to fourth gear.

"Lu! Lu, are you okay?"

"We're gonna...win, Fosie," Luke whispered, but his race car already started slowing down. Their opponents passed them in a blur in mere seconds.

"Lu!"

Foster caught Luke before the boy fell forward toward the floor. He brought his brother up on the bed and had stood in front of him. Despite the dim light coming from their nightlight, the look of worry and sheer terror on Foster's face could clearly be seen.

"You're bleeding, Lu."

Luke coughed over Foster's shoulder and spat out some blood on the floor. His brother hugged him closer, soothing his back.

"Mum!" he called out and the rest of the race was quickly drowned with anxiety.

~*~*~*~

"I have to pee, Harry," Foster said as a tiny blush crept over his cheeks. "Can you...uhm...help me?"

Harry was speechless. He knew that Foster's request was very reasonable. The boy clearly needed his help. What left him wordless was the look in Foster's eyes. There was shyness and mischief mixed into one colour.

"Uhh...sure," he said and walked to Foster's side.

"It's so much easier if I have my wheelchair," Foster told him. "But I need to keep walking so my legs won't fall asleep."

"Okay."

Foster reached for his crutches which leaned against the table to his side. Harry handed it to him and helped him stand up.

"It's cool, Harry. I can walk myself."

Harry nodded, but kept his hands on Foster's shoulders. The boy led both of them to the bathroom and as soon as they reached the door, Foster's inquisitive eyes met Harry's anxious one.

"I don't like my gram helping me pee. She's a girl."

"Oh."

"Can you come in with me, Harry?"

Harry nodded nervously and Foster smiled at him. They went inside the bathroom and Harry wondered how the boy would take a piss considering the two crutches right under Foster's arms.

"I usually sit on the toilet," Foster told him. "But that's for girls. I tried standing up, but my crutches make it hard."

"You can stand on one leg and put these things down while you pee," Harry said, gesturing toward Foster's crutches.

"I could, but my cast is heavy. It's hard to stand up for too long and my pee gets on it sometimes. I don't like smelling like I pissed my pants."

"Oh," Harry sounded. "So...you want me to turn around while you sit on the..."

"That's for girls, Harry," Foster interrupted. "Boys don't do that."

"What should I do then?"

"Take out my willy."

Yet again, Harry was gobsmacked. Foster sounded so confident with his request and those pale green eyes didn't show any reluctance at all. Harry gulped and he felt the bulge under his shorts starting to betray him.

"We're boys, Harry. Mine isn't different from yours."

But it's your dick, Harry thought. Not mine. That's the difference.

"I really have to pee," Foster almost whined. "Hurry up."

Harry shook his head gently and crouched in front of Foster. He almost unzipped the boy's shorts when Foster stopped him.

"You'll get hit over there," the boy said.

"Huh?"

"Trust me. Move over to my left and pull my willy toward you."

Harry complied and moved to Foster's left. Foster's functioning leg was already shuffling uncomfortably so Harry hurriedly pushed the button out and pulled the zipper down. To his surprise, Foster wasn't wearing any underwear. It may have been unintentional, but he let go of Foster's shorts and it dropped down to his thighs, just right above where the cast on Foster's right leg started.

"Pull it!" Foster yelled and Harry hurriedly pulled the boy's pecker toward him.

Foster was right after all. He would have been hit by the boy's piss if he crouched on Foster's right side. The boy's piss didn't flow in a straight line. It flowed diagonally from the tip of the boy's willy. While Foster was releasing all his fluids, the little pecker in Harry's hand felt so full and...

Shit, Harry cursed in his head. I'm holding his dick!

Foster looked blissful. He was surely taking his time. It took him almost 30 seconds to take a piss, but it felt like a lifetime to Harry. Foster's pecker slowly lost its fullness and the diagonally shot urine slowed and eventually became little drops that fell helplessly on the tiled floor.

"Shake it," Foster mumbled.

Harry knew what he was supposed to do. He shook Foster's willy a few times, letting any leftover droplets out. But no matter how much he shook, the little guy still looked wet.

"Thanks, Harry."

"No problem," Harry whispered. "Want me to..."

"Uh-huh. Pull my shorts back up."

Harry did so and when Foster's package was tucked inside, he stood up and saw that Foster still had that tiny blush over his cheeks.

"You held it too tightly."

"I what?"

"My willy. It felt like you were squeezing the piss out of me."

"Oh...uhh...sorry."

"It's cool. At least I didn't have to piss like a girl."

Harry smiled when Foster giggled. Soon, they found themselves back on the veranda where they had been talking for the rest of the afternoon. Foster suddenly remembered one question that was bugging him.

"How'd you find me?"

Harry took out the photo from his bag and gave it to the boy.

"Oh...so that's how. `Coz I smiled at you."

"Yeah...," Harry said. "Wait, what? Did you really smile at me?"

"Duh! It's quite obvious, y'know."

So Foster did smile at Harry. They boy finally confirmed it. It wasn't a candid shot anymore. Instead, it was a portrait of a smiling boy.

"This picture led you to Lu...and led you to me. Wow. That's awesome, Harry."

"I know," Harry almost yelled.

"Lu looked like this, too."

"You're twins. Of course he does."

"Smiled like how I smiled," Foster whispered as all his attention was on the portrait. "...laughed the way I did. And we even cried the same way."

"Luke said you two are conjoined twins," Harry interrupted. "I mean, figuratively."

"Joined at the hips and all," Foster said. "No one could keep us apart."

"Then what the hell are you doing here?" Harry's mouth slipped, his anger taking over once again.

Foster quickly glanced toward Harry. His eyes looked sad, but he kept his face straight.

"I told you already," he answered.

"Luke's taking his meds. He's up for his next radiation next week and you should see him smiling and looking forward to it!" Harry argued. "He's fighting for his life, Foster! You should be there for him."

"I'm dead..."

"The fuck you're not! You can't let him believe that! He misses you so much."

"I'll go back when..."

"What? When he's all better? There for the good times and not for the bad, huh," Harry scoffed. "What kind of twin brother are you?"

"You don't know what kind of hell we've been through, Harry," Foster said derisively. "I was there, too, y'know. I saw everything he went through."

"You're right. I don't know all of it, but I do know that Luke's still living through hell while you just sit here all day worrying about peeing like a fuckin girl."

Foster glared at him. Harry was right about everything. Luke still had cancer while he was being fed with his grandmum's cookies and fattened up like a turkey for thanksgiving. He was supposed to be there for Luke, but he already died.

"I died to save his life," he sternly said.

"You're not God," Harry countered. "You're Luke's twin brother and he needs you right now."

"He'll do fine without me."

"Shut it, Foster. If you can't get it through your thick skull, then just stay dead."

Harry's words stung like a thousand bee stings on his skin. It was painful, but it was all for the right reasons. He believed that himself. If not for his fake death, Luke would still be so stubborn and die while waiting for him to become a doctor. Why can't Harry understand that?

"I'm glad you found him, Harry."

Harry kept glaring back at Foster.

"You can be his new brother. Take good care of him. Please."

"I won't hurt him, if that's what you mean," said Harry. "I'll be the brother that you never were."

Harry had left that afternoon with Foster's mum. He didn't get what he wanted and Foster was too stubborn to understand what he was trying to do. He wanted to bring Foster back to Luke. He wanted to bring a ghost back to the living.

However, there was still that uncertainty in him about what Luke would do when he met his twin again. Will Luke refuse to take his meds again? Will the two boys end up fighting and hating each other? Will the twins ever be joined at the hips again?

"Harry," the twin's mum started as she stared at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. "You should understand how Foster feels."

"But I thought you wanted him back, too."

"I do, but it's done already. Luke thinks he's dead. He's taking his meds now and it's all because of his brother."

"Will they see each other again?"

The woman stared blankly toward the road. She sighed and gripped the steering wheel. Harry could see the tears in her eyes.

"They will. Very soon now."

"Really?" Harry felt anxious. "They won't hate each other, right?"

"I don't know, dear. Only the two of them know that."

"So when will Foster go back?"

"When the doctors says so."

"What do you mean?"

She slowed the car to a stop by the curb and looked over her shoulder to Harry. Her cheeks glistened with tears and her lips were trembling. She sucked in a slow breath and exhaled. Reaching for Harry's hand, she held onto it tightly.

"Luke's getting worse," she said. "He may need a transplant."

~ End of Chapter ~


The last two chapters are quite short, perhaps even as short as to have it be compressed into one chapter. BUT, I had to split these into two. I have my reasons, believe me :) Thank you for your patience and continued support! I love all of you

Oh, and please do check out my other stories here:kkrimson / Krispy Krimson

Anyway, send me your awesome messages here. It considerably warms my heart knowing you reached out to me in as much as how I reached out to you with my stories. krispykrimson@gmail.com

With love and always wishing you the best,
kkrimson. (Oran)