Allelujah woke up screaming aloud, sitting bolt upright in his bed on the Ptolemaios with tears stinging his eyes. He silenced himself as soon as he realized he was awake, clapping a hand over his mouth to fight back the bile and choked sobs.

He hated when he dreamt memories.

"Aw, poor baby," Hallelujah said. "Did someone have a nightmare?"

"Sh-shut up," Allelujah mumbled. He scrubbed at his damp face and tried to forget, tried so hard to shove the memories to a dark corner of his mind.

"You know better than that. You haven't ever been able to forget. You know why?" Hallelujah's voice was a low, smug purr. A very dangerous tone that Allelujah knew only meant trouble. So he didn't answer, but Hallelujah didn't need him to. "It's because of me. I won't let you. That was my birthday, after all."

"Leave me alone," Allelujah said, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. God, he was so tired, and sick in his heart, and he didn't have the energy to play Hallelujah's games right now.

"But you are alone," Hallelujah murmured. "We are alone. And you don't really want me to go away. You'd be completely lost without me."

Allelujah flinched when Hallelujah put his lips on the nape of his neck. It wasn't even so much that he could feel the touch, but he knew it was happening, and his skin prickled strangely. But there wasn't really anything there, there wasn't, he was alone in his room, and it was all in his head.

Hallelujah snickered. "All in your head. Yeah, right. You don't give me enough credit."

"You are only in my head. You're not real," Allelujah snapped.

"You don't believe that, not really. You don't want to. Because then it would mean you did all those horrible things. Besides, I'm not just in your head. I'm in your body, too."

"Wha-t?" Allelujah faltered as his legs unfolded over the side of the bed without him willing them to. He stood smoothly in the zero-G, launched himself towards the closet across the room. He fought to keep the note of panic from his voice, "What are you doing?"

His hand reached out, opened the door to the closet. A full length mirror adorned the inside of the door. One arm latched onto the top of the door to keep him from drifting off, and he was face to face with his wary reflection. But it wasn't just his reflection. In the mirror he could see Hallelujah behind him, chin tucked over one shoulder and hands slowly drawing up both his bare sides. He trembled, goosebumps rising in ripples where the vision caressed him. He wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, look away, go back to bed - and found he could do nothing.

"What are you doing, Hallelujah?" he demanded again, the panic more than a note now, nothing he could suppress. This wasn't something Hallelujah had ever tried before, and Allelujah trusted him about as far as he could throw him. Dread and confusion twisted up inside him.

Hallelujah's toothy smirk glinted in the mirror. He knew what thoughts ran through Allelujah's head, what emotions stirred in his heart - he always did. It was obvious he was enjoying Allelujah's discomfort. He nuzzled against Allelujah's hair, and Allelujah couldn't even flinch away this time.

"I'm showing you something good," Hallelujah purred before biting down on the join between shoulder and neck.

Allelujah's breath stuttered in his chest, his heart beat faster. Lower, a shameful interest sparked. A strangled sound choked his throat and he had to swallow hard before he could really find his voice.

"Stop it," he said, but the only response was another low laugh and Hallelujah's piercing gold gaze meeting his in the mirror. "Hallelujah - ah!"

Hallelujah's fingers curled, digging nails into the skin of his back, and God, he could almost feel the burning scratches pulling lower, to the base of his spine. All his muscles were tense, quivering with the need to jerk away, and still his mutinous body refused to obey his commands.

"Leave me alone," Allelujah repeated, weak and fervent and desperate.

"I won't. I won't ever leave you alone," his other self breathed into his ear before he pulled him closer, molding his form to Allelujah's. He could see it in the mirror, see their reflections, identical but for the eyes, twined together - and it should have been repulsive. Should have made Allelujah sick, and maybe it did a bit, but it was more than that, so wrong, so hot, and Christ, it was fucked up. Was he this much of a narcissist? What would Freud say about this?

But that level of contemplation escaped him when a hot, grasping, and very real hand closed around his half-hard cock and squeezed. Allelujah gasped raggedly, his eyelids fluttering. He knew it had to be his own hand, but it didn't feel like his at the moment. Not when he wasn't controlling its movements. Not when the reflection was showing his own hand at his side, and one of Hallelujah's fondling him through his pajama pants. His cock twitched, and he bit his lips to keep from moaning.

"Yeah, that's it," Hallelujah said smugly, breathlessly. "Told you I'd show you something good."

Allelujah didn't say anything. Couldn't say anything. He was a prisoner in his own skin, and the hand on his cock knew every sensitive spot, knew how to use the rasp of cloth and just the right pressure to tease him to an almost painful arousal. He could only watch the mirror and keen softly. Hallelujah's other hand was roaming up his bare chest, toying with his peaked nipples. Chills and shudders spilled down his skin, and his hips bucked into the hand on instinct alone.

Hallelujah hissed - he'd felt the same bolt of pleasure Allelujah did. Then he chuckled. "You're getting the idea now."

"What - hahh," Allelujah panted when the hand around his cock squeezed again, thumb circling over the tip.

And then the hand was gone and he whimpered at the loss before he saw himself in the mirror, pushing his pajama bottoms down off his hips and exposing his flushed, aching erection to the open air. Hallelujah's eyes were fixed hungrily on it, and he licked his lips, made them shine all soft and red as if he wanted to use them instead of his hand - and God, Allelujah's cock fucking throbbed at that thought. The head was already shining with drops of slick precome, and Hallelujah growled low. Allelujah saw the hand - this time it was his own, and Hallelujah's over it - take it in a sure, hot grip.

They gasped in tandem, and Hallelujah sucked on Allelujah's neck as he started to guide their joined fingers over the hard flesh. A demanding, dry stroke that almost burned and Allelujah had to remind himself there wasn't really anyone standing behind him because he wanted to tip his head back onto Hallelujah's shoulder and brace himself against the sensation. He smeared his thumb over the slick head of his cock and let out a low moan that Hallelujah echoed. As one, they quickened the pace.

"You see, Allelujah?" Hallelujah spoke, his voice raspy with lust, words spoken between heavy breaths. "You don't really want me to leave you alone. You'd miss all this. And you love this, don't you?"

Allelujah wanted to deny it, but coherent phrases were beyond him. He could see himself, panting like a racehorse, blushing like a virgin, hips working into his - their hands, and his gaze met Hallelujah's in their reflection. His other self smirked dangerously, eye narrowing till just a glitter of gold was visible between dark lashes. Without dropping his stare, Hallelujah leaned closer and licked Allelujah's ear, wringing another half-swallowed moan from him before he spoke again.

"Just admit it. You love having me inside you," he whispered, growled, and bit down on the lobe at the same time his hand tightened around Allelujah's.

The pressure around his cock and the shivers down his spine and the shocking truth combined into one blinding wave of heat and light. Allelujah cried out, coming instantly, coming hard, and feeling as if he was falling. He tightened his grip on the closet door until his fingers ached, and he sobbed for breath.

When the tremors and spasms stopped, he went limp, boneless, and realized his eyes were closed. He opened them warily - and saw his reflection, alone, staring back at him like a wounded animal. A few stray drops of come hung suspended in the air, and the rest was splattered across the glass. He shivered, his skin cold, his hand sticky and still gripping his now-flaccid, sensitized cock. He let go quickly and pulled his pants back up.

Hallelujah had disappeared and was silent. He could feel him, though, a warm self-satisfied presence at the back of his mind. As he cleaned up his mess, Allelujah felt ashamed, dirty, and somehow used. And he knew with a sinking dreadful surety that this was just the beginning.