Chapter 2: The Replacement

Mark pulled the van into Jon’s driveway and cut the engine, exhaling a slow breath. He adjusted his uniform shirt, glancing at himself in the rearview mirror. Same as always—bald, burly, bearded, built like a wall. Just like Bob. It never failed to amaze him how identical they were, even after fifty-plus years.

Most people assumed they loved being twins, but the reality was more complicated. As kids, it had been a blessing—two powerhouse athletes, nearly unstoppable together on the football field and wrestling mat. They’d been stars, the pride of their conservative Midwestern town. But as they got older, it became a burden. People treated them differently, sometimes like a novelty act. Strangers asked stupid questions—Have you ever switched places? Can you read each other’s minds? Do you feel it when he gets hurt? And now, in their fifties, still living together, they got side-eyes and smirks, as if two grown men sharing a home was some kind of weird joke.

Mark had never planned on this. He’d had a wife, a life, a future. But when his twenty-five-year marriage imploded, he had nowhere else to go. His ex had left him bitter and broken, taking half of everything and spitting on what was left. He hadn’t just lost a marriage—he’d lost the dream of having a family. She had never wanted kids, and Mark had always told himself he was fine with that. But deep down, he hadn’t been. He’d wanted to be a father more than anything. And now, it was too late.

Bob understood. He’d been widowed for years, and even though his marriage had been happy, he’d suffered the same loneliness. He and his wife had tried for kids, but it never happened. Doctors gave them no clear answer—just “unexplained infertility.” They’d considered adoption, but by the time they were ready, she had gotten sick. And then she was gone. Just like that, Bob’s chance at fatherhood had vanished, too.

And then last night happened.

Mark grabbed his phone, scanning the pictures Bob had sent him again. The story. The words. The way the younger man had touched, kissed, worshipped the older man with absolute devotion. It had done something to Bob—shaken him up in a way Mark hadn’t seen in years. And when Bob had tried to explain it over dinner, Mark had felt it, too.

They’d grown up in a world where sex was simple—men led, women followed. Feelings were for after. Sex was for control. And yet, this story had turned that upside down. It had been about care. About surrender. About being adored.

And that had made them both hard as hell.

Mark adjusted himself as he stepped out of the van. No point dwelling on it now. He was here to finish the job and—more importantly—to meet the man who had written it.

He knocked, and moments later, the door swung open.

Jon smiled at him, warm and easy, like they were already friends. “Hey, Bob! Back so soon?”

Mark froze for half a second. Of course—Jon had no idea Bob had a twin. Most people didn’t. But he recovered quickly, giving his best “friendly plumber” grin.

“Actually, I’m Mark. Bob’s twin. He had another job today, so I’m taking over.”

Jon’s eyes widened in surprise, then amusement. “No kidding? That’s wild. You guys really are identical.”

Mark chuckled. “Yeah, we get that a lot.”

Jon stepped aside, motioning him in. “Well, come on in, Mark. I promise I won’t make you prove you’re not Bob.”

Mark followed him inside, his eyes subtly scanning the place as Jon led him to the kitchen. He was looking for one thing—those papers. But they were gone.

Jon leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “So, do you and Bob own the business together?”

Mark nodded, setting down his toolbox. “Yeah. Been running it for over twenty years now. It’s good work. Honest work.”

“I respect that,” Jon said. “There’s something satisfying about fixing things with your hands.”

Mark glanced up, meeting his gaze. There was something about Jon’s energy—open, unguarded, the complete opposite of what he and Bob had grown up with. It wasn’t just his words; it was his whole presence. It put people at ease. It made them feel ... safe.

Mark swallowed hard, shaking off the thought.

“Alright,” he said, rolling up his sleeves. “Let’s see what needs fixing.”

Jon smiled, stepping aside. “It’s all yours.”

As Mark crouched under the sink, he couldn’t shake the feeling curling in his gut. He had come here out of curiosity, maybe even a little skepticism. But now, standing in Jon’s warm kitchen, knowing what he had written, what he wanted—that curiosity was turning into something else.

Something much harder to ignore.