Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/324332.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Dave_Strider/Dirk_Strider, Dave_Strider/Bro_Strider_-_Relationship
  Character:
      Dave_Strider, Dirk_Strider, John_Egbert
  Additional Tags:
      Stridercest_-_Freeform, Incest, Beta_Dave, Alpha_Bro_-_Freeform
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-01-20 Words: 6119
****** Close Enough ******
by SnazzyCookies
Summary
     From this_prompt on the kink meme
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
You’re lying in your bed, blankly staring up at the cold, gray ceiling
of your Veil meteor bedroom, when John Egbert bursts in through your bedroom
door.
“Dave! Dave, Rose says we’re almost there! Like, in a couple
days, we’re gonna meet my nanna, and Jade’s grandpa, and you and
Rose and Rose’s mom and my Dad and everybody in the universe we made
when I scratched the beat mesa!”
You don’t move your body, but you raise one hand to give him a lazy
thumbs-up. He snorts.
“Pfft, don’t you care about seeing your Bro again?”
You freeze. Not that you were moving; but for a very short moment, you stop
breathing, your lungs refusing to inhale. You don’t reply.
“Whatever, the rest of us are excited, anyway,” John says,
clearly disappointed at your reaction, and you feel slightly guilty at being a
wet blanket on his mood. But you know that Jade will cheer him up, and in a
moment you hear their excited screaming from down the hall, and everything is
alright.
Except that it isn’t. 
Rose has had a team of people in contact with the kids in the new universe for
quite a while; a few weeks, now. Nearly everyone has taken the time to chat
with the new players, on timelines similar to the ones the trolls had used when
they spoke to you. Though the situation of being on the other end of things
like this is interesting, you’ve kept yourself withdrawn and acted
completely detached from the situation.
Especially after a few days later when you learn that no, you won’t be
meeting John’s dad again, or another Rose, or another you, for that
matter, because the guardians have all died in the game, just like the first
time. John cried for a while, mourning the loss of his father a second time.
Rose seemed only slightly relieved at the news that there wouldn’t be a
second, adult her for her to talk to. You felt similarly about not meeting
another adult Dave. You’ve met enough of yourself in your lifetime,
really.
But Bro…
You roll over in your bed and cease to think about it. It’s not him, and
he won’t be who you need to see again, and you can never tell anyone,
ever, about why.
Of course, the meteor arrives on schedule. You pick up the new players and you
join all your teammates, trolls and humans, in gathering in the main computer
room to meet them.
There is noise and chatter and nonstop talking all around you. There are, after
all, four relations of John Egbert in the room now, and they all seem
to share the same qualities: buck teeth, jet-black hair, and the ability to
Never. Stop. Talking. 
But despite that consistent buzzing in your ear, it all fades into the
background the moment you lay eyes on him, and he turns his head to look
directly at you, and your heart leaps into your throat. Your brother.
He's only sixteen now, but that changes nothing. He still wears his stupid
pointed anime shades and his hair is cut the exact same way. His hat is on his
shirt now instead of on his head, but you think that just makes him look
cooler, somehow. He still stands the same way, hooks his thumbs in his pockets
the same way, wears the same stupid fingerless gloves that he thinks are so
cool and so do you but you'll never tell him. Your heart races as he turns his
head, ever so slightly to stare at you, and you do not cease from staring
back. 
It's him. It's him in every way, except that it isn't. The last time you saw
him he was dead, run through with his own sword, his puddle of blood drying and
brown around the edges, long turned cold. And you could tell no one. No one,
not even Terezi, of the things you felt, of the turmoil of emotions that raged
inside of you at the sight of the person you'd loved most intimately in the
entire universe dead at your feet.
You stare at him, and you wonder. You wonder the one burning question that
shouldn't matter at all, because he isn't him, he
isn't your Bro...but it does. It becomes the only question
that matters. Did he love his brother the same way you loved yours? Does he
feel what you do when he looks at you, is the empty pain you feel at the loss
of each other's bro's the same, is the depth of it the same; is the hole in his
life as meaningful to him as it is for you?
Ignoring all the others surrounding you, both of you flashstep halfway to each
other, and before you know what you're even doing, before your senses can stop
you, you're lifting your palm to rest on the side of his face, your thumb
gently stroking along his pale cheek as you stare into his eyes, now perfectly
visible through his shades this close.
He does not pull away. He doesn't say "what the fuck are you doing?" He doesn't
make a strange expression, he doesn't flinch, he doesn't raise an eyebrow, he
doesn't twitch a single muscle.
You hear his breath increase so subtly that you're not even sure he's aware of
it. And you know. Yes. Yes, he loved his brother the same way you loved yours.
Your losses are equal. 
"Why don't I show you my room," you say, never taking your gaze off of his
face, his eyes. They are his eyes; different yet exactly the same;
the same life in them but just not as much experience behind them. This Bro
hasn't raised you, and you know he feels the same pain when he looks at
you...you are both facing the same loss, the same emotions in this moment, and
that only attracts you to him more.
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he says, and
it's his voice, if not fifteen years younger but it's still his deep
baritone, and you trace your fingers subconsciously down his bare neck,
tickling his skin, and he is still better at keeping his poker face
than you are, fucking bastard.
"I will show you mine all fucking night, until the Egbert Foursome has talked
themselves into a peaceful sleep and Roxy Lalonde has sobered herself up enough
to legally drive a fucking kindergarten schoolbus," you reply.
He nods once, barely perceptibly, but absolutely without hesitation. You turn
your back on him and lead him through the halls of the Veil. You know he has to
be at least a little curious at all the troll paraphernalia littering the
halls, strange piles of weird objects that you've grown accustomed to over the
last three years, but you both ignore all of it. You can feel his gaze on your
back, your neck, your ass, as you know he’s checking you out, trying to
find the differences, trying to see the sameness, just like you are.
You enter your room, turn around, and watch him as he walks in. He casually
shoves the bottom of the door shut with his foot, causing it to swing closed
with a soft click.
You stare at each other for the longest two seconds of your life.
He takes the one step forward to be closer to you, and now he's got his gloved
palm on your cheek, his thumb doing more than just stroking your skin, but
running down and over your lips, which you purse. He presses it into your lips,
and you let the tiniest tip of your tongue escape to lick him.
In a flash both of his hands are on the sides of your face and his mouth is
crushing into yours, and holy shit, he tastes like Bro. You moan up into him
and wrap your arms around his back, pulling his body to you; his warm, alive,
pulsing body that molds perfectly to yours; he is no longer a foot taller than
you but only an inch; he is no longer fifteen years more experienced than you;
he is no longer your older brother but your equal and you can feel in his
movements every one of those same emotions from him.
He lowers his lips to your jaw and begins to kiss. You raise your chin and let
him in, and his lips are giving you soft, sucking nips as they travel down your
neck. When he reaches your collar bone you groan heavily, and he smirks.
"You were always such a whore for me," he says softly, and his voice, his hot
breath on your skin, the correctness of his statement make you melt and weak in
the knees.
Embarrassingly, you groan. It’s been so long; so long since
you’ve seen him, so long since he’s held you. Your eyes get a
little watery, but you ignore that, and he nips at the soft skin at the base of
your neck, and your hands are reaching up and pulling both of your shades off.
He does nothing to stop you.
Before you know it you're cupping his face in your hands and yanking him up to
stare into his eyes, bare eyes to bare eyes, and they are a little more orange
than your Bro's, and you like that. Finally, a true, real indication that he
is notthe same person, nor will he ever be, and then your lips are
crushing down onto his and his fingers are wrapped up and tangled in your hair
behind your head.
He groans and grinds his hips into you, now at the proper height for you to
really feel his hardening erection, and it surprises you that he wants you this
bad already. You groan and buck back into him. He grabs your ass with his palms
and pushes you into him, desperate, needy, not the way your Bro ever would have
shown but right now you don't fucking care. 
"I guess we're sick fucks in every universe," he whispers softly as his head
falls to rest on your neck, his body pulling you towards the bed you have
called yours for the past three years. You're pulling his shirt over his head
and then your own shirt is torn off and you feel his hot, naked chiseled chest
pushing into you as the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed.
“Like there’s a universe that exists where you could resist
me,” you whisper softly into his ear, and he whines. The sound
catches you off guard for a moment; your Bro never made a noise like
that, and it sets your heart racing even as a dull ache in the back of it seems
to wake up for a moment.
Your thoughts are scattered and your brain stops thinking when his delicious
still-gloved fingers grip the top of his jeans and begin to pull down the
zipper. Holy shit, he’s so desperate he’s shaking; orange boxers
are revealed and then disappear from your vision as he pulls it all off in one
smooth, graceful motion, boxers, pants, shoes and socks; and he’s
definitely the same skilled, cool ninja you’ve always known.
His dick isn’t as big as you remember it but you don’t fucking
care. You scramble to yank down your own fly and pull your pants off as he
pulls you into your bed with him; the bed on which you cried for your dead
brother so many times, fell asleep alone, masturbated alone, cursed the world
alone. 
He looks up at you with those eyes and you know you’re falling in love.
He’s not your first Bro, but he’s still your Bro and you can see
on his face that he feels the same way. You can still read his face, though its
expression is hidden behind his mask of solid passivity, and he is, in that
moment, everything you need.
You kick off the last bit of your clothes and your eyes are fixed on his body
as he leans back, lying on your bed with expectant eyes, and your nerves get a
little jittery as you realize that he wants you on top. You swallow a lump in
your throat and crawl until you’re on your knees above him. You lean
forward and trace your hands over his skin; over his sides, his muscled chest,
his flat stomach, his thighs; touching him, feeling him, getting lost in
his realness.
You lean down and kiss him, hot and fast and deep, and he groans up into your
mouth and lifts his hips to grind your erections together and you melt, your
body covering his and he surrenders to you, letting you crush him beneath you.
He grabs your ass and pulls you roughly down onto him, and you moan and grind
your hips against him, synchronized in your rhythms, both of you moving to the
beat that is perfect and steady and Strider, regardless of universes or
timelines or any other paradox bullshit.
In one swift motion he sits up and rises to his knees to match your height. He
lowers his lips to your neck and sucks, marking you, leaving a hickey.
"Yes..." you groan as his fingers dance over your chest, teasing your nipples
over and over, your fingers tangling up into his hair as your dick rubs gently
against his, making the heat between your legs somehow grow a little more.
He traces his tongue slowly down your neck and over your chest, and your back
arches when his hot breath washes over your stomach. You whimper as he ghosts
his lips so lightly over your skin that you can barely feel it.
"Quit fucking teasing me..."
You see a mischievous smile spring to his face, and it throws you, because your
Bro hardly ever let any expression come to his face, not even during sex.
But this Bro does; he smiles, and then his hands are on your ass,
roughly holding you close to him as he brushes his lips just too far
away from your swollen dick. 
His breath is boiling hot over your skin as you can feel the moisture but not
the touch of his lips. You groan and twitch but his hands hold you still-
because you're letting him. This Bro isn't any stronger than you are. If the
two of you had a sparring match, you are fairly certain it would be an even,
fair fight. But you are not interested in that.
He opens his lips and kisses the tip of your dick. You whimper and lift your
hips to buck up into his warm heat. He parts his lips and lets you in, pressing
hard and hot over your swollen skin, tracing his tongue around the base of the
head, sucking you into his mouth.
You'd groan if you could pause in your panting, but you can't. Your fingers are
pulling roughly on his hair now, pushing his head down onto you, and he takes
it, every millimeter, until his lips are pressed against your pelvis and you
feel the heat and softness of the back of his throat.
"You always did love to suck my cock," you say through heavy breaths, and he
responds by closing his jaw just the slightest bit, letting all of his teeth
gently press against your dick on every side. You whine and whimper, and then
he's pulling back up, sucking with his lips so hard that his cheeks are
indented.
When he reaches your tip he licks it several times with his tongue, teasing the
slit, his drool running down your shaft to drip onto the sheets. You groan and
stroke the back of his head with your fingers, and then he begins to bob.
He starts slowly, taking only the head in at first, sucking it into his mouth
and then pulling slowly back out. You groan each time he does it, each time
going slightly farther down than before, until he's taking all of you deep into
his throat and then sucking with his tight lips all the way to the head on the
way up.
You feel the pleasure building slowly and steadily; he always knew exactly how
slow to go to drive you batshit insane, and he does it like he's known you all
his life, which he has. You groan much more loudly than you intended as you
grip his hair in your fists, your chin falling to hit your chest.
"Fuuuuuuck..." you say, the word soft and barely audible in your ears, and you
lose your self-control and thrust forward, burying yourself deep into his hot
mouth. He takes it easily, and you blush because you’re sure he’s
used to a bigger dick than yours, but he certainly doesn’t seem
disappointed when he presses his tongue up along your length. He slides back
and you thrust forward, and then you’re fucking his mouth, his lips
eager, his hands pushing against your ass, pulling you close to him.
He moans. Not just once, but over and over, the sound of his voice getting cut
off each time you thrust deep into his throat, his nostrils flared as he pants,
trying to get enough air, and he’s damn sexy in an entirely new and
different way. You can see on his face, in his body language, in his
desperation, that this Bro wants to be under you, he’s
desperate to be under you, and you wonder briefly just what kind of Dave
he’d had. Then you feel it, that deep heat starting to rise as your
balls contract, and he gives you one last suck and pulls
away, just too soon, and you realize that he still knows your tells
better than you do.
You gaze down at him, panting, sweating, his carefully styled hair a disaster.
He looks up at you and licks his lips, and your brain checks out as your
throbbing cock takes over delegating the things that you do. Your hands are on
his shoulders and you push him to the bed, smashing your mouth on top of his in
desperate, sloppy kisses. You fingers grace down his neck, over his chest and
you pinch his nipples between your fingers as you move to straddle him. 
He whines and arches his back as you tease his little pink nubs and rest your
throbbing cock on top of his. He’s more than eager and you find yourself
letting out a little laugh, the way your Bro would have done- and you realize
that there is probably more of him in you than there is in the person beneath
you. The realization is both sweet and painful at the same time, and you ease
the ache by tracing your fingers over the body underneath you. 
You lean down to suck on his neck and his arms wrap tightly around your back,
holding you close to him. When you slide your tongue lower to trace over his
collar bone he lets go, instead rubbing his palms over your sides, tickling
you, making your skin tingle. You keep your fingers teasing his nipples as you
trace over his chest and stomach with your tongue, and he writhes and bucks
and whines, that sound utterly foreign in your memories of your Bro, and
it’s making your blood rush and you lose your patience. You move your
entire body down to his pelvis and lick his cock from tip to base, making him
shudder, his neediness turning you on in ways you’ve never exactly felt
before.
You lick his cock over and over, pressing it down into his pelvis with your
tongue, holding it steady with one thumb on its head.
He writhes under you, and tries to buck his hips, and suddenly, you
feel a rush of power and it goes straight to your head as you realize that
you’re the one running this show.
You slide your tongue down between his ass cheeks and he eagerly spreads his
legs for you. You feel the softness of his ass on your face and the heat
between his cheeks as you glide your tongue over the sensitive ring of flesh as
he whines and groans. Without hesitation he lifts his hips for you, and your
heart pounds in your chest as you dig your fingers into the sides of his hips,
pulling him close.
You lick your tongue slowly over his hole, at first teasing him with just the
tip and then pushing your face in until the broad top of your tongue is
pressing heavily over him, your drool dripping down his crack and onto the
sheets. He groans helplessly, embarrassing words like "please" and "more"
whispering from his lips, and your cheeks flush and you laugh softly into his
skin, and he moans. The sound of his voice, Bro's voice, tears at
your heart and your chest and your belly and your balls. Your tongue teases him
in hot, slow circles, and a groan that is nearly a scream escapes his throat.
"Bro, fuck me already, come on..."
Your blood freezes for a moment when he calls you that. Bro. That’s
not your name. That’s his name. And it dawns on you slowly
that no, it isn’t. You know his name, of course; but you’ve never
called him by it. In his role as parent you’d always just called him
Bro- and you realize that he must have done the same for you, or rather for
another Dave, an older Dave that raised him to be this needy, writhing puddle
of helplessness under the power of your tongue.
You realize that though you’ve both lost your Bros, the situation
is not the same. You lost yours three years ago, and though you miss
him, the pain has dulled a little for you. But he has just lost his,
he’s just entered this cruel game and for him the pain is fresh and new.
He needs you much, much more than you need him, and all of a sudden you realize
that you are now the older one; the more experienced one, the one who
knows way more shit than he does and the one who’s standing much more
firmly on his emotional feet.
He's smiling when you sit up, something your Bro never would have done, and it
jars you completely. You don’t want to upset him and you surprise
yourself with the perfectly deadpan pokerface that you display. He’s
just a kid. He’s more of a kid than you are even though you’re
the same age, and he needs you, and you love him. You feel your love for him
change; it’s not the same as your love for your older Bro at all. You
suddenly feel more protective. Like you want to take care of him. Do things for
him.
"You're still a sucker for rimming," you say, your voice soft and threatening
to crack.
"I'm still a sucker for you," he says, catching himself too late, the
confession out of his mouth before he realizes what he’s said, and you
smile softly. You see the flicker of surprise on his face and realize
that his Dave probably would never have made such an expression. You
crawl up so that you’re hovering over him, and you brush a strand of his
hair away from his sweaty forehead gently with your fingers. You look down into
his too-orange eyes.
“It’s not gonna be the same,” you say. 
“I know,” he says, and you can hear the pain in his voice, then.
It’s fresh and young and sharper than yours, and you lean down to kiss
him, if only to ease it for him, just a little.
“I still love you,” you say, and you can see his eyes shifting as
he tries not to let them water.
“He never would have said that.”
You nod.
“He felt it,” you reply, and before he can think about that
you’re leaning over the edge of your bed and digging around for that
bottle of lube you used to use back when you and Karkat were a thing.
You sit up between his legs again, and he stares at you, watching you with
intensity. You force the lube out onto your fingers, the smell sending rushes
of heat and anticipation through your blood. His eyes don’t leave your
face as you slide your fingers into the heat between his ass cheeks, and he
opens his legs eagerly for you as you tease his opening with your fingertips.
You slide the first one in and he whines, that sound becoming one of your
favorite things to hear. You are going to make that come out of him as many
times as you can; yes, fuck the way he squeezes his eyes shut and shudders is
so damn sexy you see exactly why his Dave would have wanted him. You tease him,
sliding your finger in and out of him too slowly, pushing all the way in up to
your knuckles before sliding out again. You do that for a while, gently
stroking his prostate, teasingly too slow and gentle, and he pants helplessly
underneath you.
“Fuuuuuck…” he groans. “Bro, dammit, why are you
such always such a fucking tease…”
You hear yourself laughing softly, exactly the way your Bro would have done.
You are now in his shoes, and it makes you feel warm and whole. You miss him,
but you are him, and he’s under you, but he’s not.
“Not my fault you’re such a sexy little fucker,” you say.
“You should see yourself from my point of view, all panting and sweaty
like a desperate little schoolgirl. You’d think this was your first
fucking time.”
“Fuck you,” he says, and it’s his voice, it’s your
Bro’s voice, and it makes your heart feel warm and whole and hurt all at
once. 
“I’m working on it,” you reply, and you slide in a second
finger, keeping the same teasingly slow pace, pushing too gently against his
walls, stroking is prostate too slowly, making him writhe and whine, there
it is again, that sound that you will never get enough of.
“Fuck, Dirk,” you say. The name sounds incredibly strange on your
lips. It would be the same as John calling his dad by his first name;
it’s weird beyond weird, but you can see that it’s completely
normal for him to hear you call him that. 
“Bro damn it stop being such a fucking tease why are you always such a
bastard…” he complains, and you realize that maybe you want him
to call you Dave, but not now; not this time.
You slide in a third finger and he keens, raising his hips to buck against you
and you hold him down with your free palm on his stomach.
“I’m driving the Strider party bus today,” you say. You
rise up onto your knees and pull your fingers out. You add more lube to the
gooey mess on your hand and grab your dick, and it doesn’t take you long
at all to pump it back to full hardness with the sight before your eyes;
panting, desperate, sweaty Bro underneath you, his eyes focused on your face so
that when you lick your lips, he groans softly.
He spreads his legs for you, but you take his calf in your clean hand and lift
it up to rest on your shoulder, and he lifts his other one himself. With his
ass completely exposed to you now, you slide forward, your mind momentarily
distracted by concentrating on what you’re doing, your thumb guiding
your dick into his ass. You push in slowly, wincing a little as you force
yourself through that tight barrier, though you can see how many times
he’s done this because he doesn’t fight you. He eagerly lets you
in. Then you feel his heat.
Holy fuck, you’d forgotten how good this fucking feels. You lose your
self-control and push yourself all the way in as he cries out and you shut your
eyes, his tightness and heat surrounding your hard dick and fuck, fuck,
you’re thrusting into him, going a little deeper each time as you ease
him open. He’s whimpering and yelping and his eyes are squeezed tightly
shut, and he’s biting his bottom lip with his teeth, a thing
you’ve never seen your Bro’s face do and fuck, fuck he’s
so damn sexy fuck.
You thrust into him over and over, sliding into him becoming easier as he
stretches to accommodate you and the lube spreads into a more even layer. You
groan and he whimpers, your fingers digging into the sides of his hips, pulling
him to you, keeping him close to you.
You lift his ass a little higher and he keens, crying out loudly as you push
into him, his fingers clasping at the sheets as he stares right into your half-
lidded eyes. His heat surrounds you, his tightness squeezes you on every side
and all of your attention is on how good it feels; you hardly notice the burn
in your arms and legs as your muscles drive you into him over and over, the
little cries coming from his mouth making you want him even more. You slam into
him harder and faster, sweat forming on your forehead that you don’t
even notice because all of your attention is in your dick or on his face.
“Fuck, Bro, fuck!” he cries, pointing his chin to the ceiling as
he squeezes his eyes shut, and you slide into him there, just so, and he
screams and whimpers under you, and a fairly cocky smile comes to your lips as
you are enjoying this on many levels beyond just the physical. You watch as he
grabs his dick in between his own fingers and begins to frantically pump
himself, his self-control as completely gone as yours.
The building lust in your dick suddenly has all of your attention, and you
close your eyes, thrusting even faster, not having enough time to go all the
way in or pull all the way out but you no longer care. The pleasure winds up
tighter and tighter, making you shake, making you grunt as you shove yourself
faster into that heat, that squeezing pressure. You feel it coil in your balls
and this time there is nothing to stop you from going over the edge. 
With a cry you shove yourself into him as hard and deep as you can go, pulses
of release pounding through your dick and balls. Pleasure drowns you in waves,
overpowering and dominating your entire being; and you groan and become weak as
the pulses fade to leave a deep, gratifying satisfaction in their wake.
Your orgasm fades to leave a steady tingling of pleasure throughout all of your
body, and you open your eyes to see the sexiest vision of
Bro...Dirk…frantically pumping his own dick, hard and purple and
swollen, and you knock his hand away and he whines as you take over. You slide
out of him as you work, but he hardly notices because his attention is
elsewhere now, and you completely ignore the burning in your arm as you pump
him hard and fast. You feel the twitch in the back of his knees that are still
draped over your shoulders and then he stiffens and whimpers and his stomach
contracts as he halfway sits up. His cum pulses out onto his chest, and you
want to burn the sight of it into your memory because it is damn fucking sexy.
He collapses onto the bed, panting from exhaustion. You remain still for a
moment, and he slowly opens his eyes to see you gazing down at him with a
smile, and he slowly smiles back. You can hardly believe that two Striders are
looking at each other with such unabashed, meaningful expressions like this,
and you love it. You love him. He is not your Bro, but he’s still your
brother; he’s still your lover and you can’t believe how good it
feels.
You slowly help him slide his legs off of your shoulders, and you grab a towel
off the floor to sloppily wipe yourselves off with. You crawl up to lay down
beside him and plant a kiss or two on his forehead, and he curls into you,
pushing his face into your chest, and you wrap your arms around him with the
odd, protective feeling of being the older brother.
“Bro…damn…” he says, and you see that he needs to
call you that, at least for now, so you can partially fill the emptiness inside
of him that you have felt for the past three years. And you realize that you
don’t mind. There is as much of your Bro in you as there is in him; you
are both partially bits and pieces of each other, each half big bro and half
little bro; one Brodave and the other Brodirk, and you are both still family,
both unquestionably, undeniably Strider.
Your door swings open and you lift your head lazily to see who it is. You were
expecting a troll, since knocking was a thing they’d never seemed to
have gotten the hang of, but when you raise your eyes what you see is the
gaping maw of a shocked John Egbert.
His mouth flaps open and closed a few times, but no sounds come out of it.
“Fuck, Egbert, usually when you walk in on somebody’s bare naked
ass, you mumble an apology and blush like a little schoolgirl and fumble to
turn around to get the fuck out,” you say.
“D….Dave, don’t you know who…who…!”
You sit up and pull the blankets up to your waist, and he sits up beside you,
grateful for the cover. He’s not familiar with John the way you are. To
him John’s the younger version of his best friend’s dead grandpa,
and that’s gotta be weird for him.
“Yes, John, I know who he is. We just got very intimately acquainted
with each other.”
His mouth somehow drops open wider.
“John, meet my brother Dirk. Dirk, my best bro, John.”
“Sup,” Dirk says, with one slight nod of his head. You see him
glance over to the place on the floor where his shades have been tossed, and
you know the feeling. But there’s nothing you can do about it now.
John is continuing to stare.
“Is there a reason you barged into my room without knocking other than
to watch me getting it on with my bro?”
John manages to close his mouth. He licks his lips a few times and then
attempts to speak.
“Rose wanted to start going over the next part of the plan, but no one
knew where you guys were, so I went to find you.”
“Okay, cool. Message delivered, good job. Now unless you want to see
more naked Strider ass, you can shut the door on your way out.”
He nods, his face flushed pink, and leaves, and you can’t hold in the
snickers anymore. Bro…Dirk, laughs along with you, and holds up his fist
for a bro bump. You give it to him and your heart feels a lot lighter. This is
going to be a pretty sick relationship, because of one very glaring, important
difference from your last one.
You don’t have to hide it anymore.
“Well, let’s get to this party before we miss all the other
beautiful reactions we’re gonna get,” you say, and you move to
get up, only to feel an arm wrap around your neck and pull you back into a
deep, long kiss.
“Don’t you fucking leave me again,” he whispers, and you
reach up to stroke his hair, and it feels the same, except it hasn’t
been squished flat by a baseball cap.
“I won’t,” you say softly, even though you know that who
he’s talking to isn’t really exactly you, but that doesn’t
matter. “I’m fucking immortal, dude.” And it makes you
feel proud to say it, feel proud to tell him of what you’ve achieved,
even though you know he’s not really exactly your Bro. He is but he
isn’t, but as you hold him close to you and he hugs you with a grip like
a vice, you know that he feels the exact same way. You’re not the people
that you’ve both lost, that you both miss; but you’re still
brothers, and it’s close enough.
End Notes
     Fanart by Synnesai
     Fanart by Renaris - and_another!
     Fanart by Kilehye
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