Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/213679.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Tavros_Nitram/Dave_Strider
  Character:
      Tavros_Nitram, Dave_Strider
  Additional Tags:
      Xenophilia, Voyeurism, Humor, Awkward_Sex, Rimming, Mind_Control,
      Consent, Xenobiology, Second_person_POV, PWP
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-06-20 Completed: 2011-07-21 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 13777
****** Dave: Investigate Sounds ******
by ShyPumpkin
Summary
     Your name is DAVE STRIDER and you are currently investigating STRANGE
     NOISES that have been emerging from your bathroom for an INEXPLICABLE
     AMOUNT OF TIME.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Your name is DAVE STRIDER (Incarnation: 69, Status: Dead) and you are currently
investigating STRANGE NOISES that have been emerging from YOUR BATHROOM for
quite some time. You seem to think that the noises "sound like the joneses dog
whining when left outside with nothing but a fucking canine party hat as mrs
jones wastes the day away pretending a summer disco party can revert her back
to seventeen and make her into the dancing queen"
Your investigation has been going smoothly and you have obtained a LIST OF
SUSPECTS. It is currently populated with a single individual, TAVROS NITRAM,
the unforgivably dorky yin to your unspeakably awesome yang, who has been
crashing at your place for "fuck knows how long," as there is no real coherent
sense of the time in "this fantasy bubble coughed up from the hellish depths of
those tentacled assholes."
The noises started briefly after Tavros entered the bathroom and have been
steadily crescendoing since. Now that you feel that you have a good handle on
whodunnit in your official noise investigation, you must establish what the
noises are prior to incarceration and punishment. You have made GREAT STRIDES
in your investigation of what they are through SMIRKING, LEANING CAREFULLY NEXT
TO THE DOOR WITHOUT MAKING A SOUND, and placing your HAND unforgivably close to
your CROTCH, which you assure yourself is IRRELEVANT TO THE SITUATION.
As the MESSIAH OF COOL, and therefore, very well versed in what all the cool
kids are doing these days (and, apparently the not so cool kids), you are well
aware of what the noises are, but ending your INVESTIGATION now would mean
basing it off of ASSUMPTIONS and that is not permissible. You must first
collect HARD EVIDENCE, which can only come from seeing the noises being made,
firsthand. You gained this insight and other crazy shit involving justice from
a BATSHIT INSANE BLIND GIRL FROM ANOTHER UNIVERSE and you are secretly glad
that you did. Very secretly.
The PANTING and MOANING emerging from the crack under the closed bathroom door
have turned into slightly louder RHYTHMIC WHIMPERS. This calls for further
exploration.
==> Dave: Open Door
Opening the door would ruin this moment and destroy the potential for seeing
this miraculous spectacle firsthand, dunkass. The sounds might stop as soon as
the door opens. Then you could lack the evidence you need for the PUNISHMENT OF
THIS CRIME and you know that these noises mean the maker should SERVE HARD
TIME. You refuse to touch the door, but move in slightly closer. This helps you
no more than before to UNCOVER THE MYSTERY.
==> Dave: Be suddenly overcome with distress
You are near incapable of being overcome by distress because of your INTERNAL
POKER FACE of LEVEL 46, which just so happens to be all of the levels. Yes, all
of them. Instead, you are hit with a SILENT WAVE OF INTROSPECTION concerning
your HARSH THOUGHTS ON JUSTICE.
It occurs to you that your FASCINATION WITH JUSTICE began when you and your
friends began playing SBURB. You came to realize its dire importance and began
noting very quickly when things were COMPLETELY ILLEGAL. As a result, you
attempted to UPHOLD THE MORAL LAW OF SKAIA, regardless of not actually knowing
it yourself. You did not need to, as you BECAME THE LAW. You are UNSURE OF THE
SOURCE OF YOUR LEGALITY FETISH, but you are sure that it is all YOUR OWN
AWESOME DOING. It only makes sense that your status as THE LAW should carry
over into death.
You are jolted back to reality by the sound of Tavros (or so you believe)
taking in a sharp breath and letting out a loud, breathy moan. You begin to
VISUALIZE the possible noise source and are hit with VERY STIRRING VISUALS
involving your lanky twink of a bubblemate. You begin to imagine him leaning
his back up against your sink, his black cotton pants around his ankles as his
hand grips a large meaty tentacle cock, sliding up and down and really working
it. The sounds from before make you wonder if his capable of penetrating
himself with his own hypothetical tentacle dick as he fondled his horns or some
other "freaky alien shit that would only turn someone on ironically." You are
apparently feeling pretty ironic today.
You start to smirk, wondering what possible PUNISHMENTS are the best for
"first-degree spam porpoise slapping with a side of alien asshole penetration
action," and "jacking it in your bros home without first sending a request and
an invite to the show."
==> Dave: Get back on that evidence
Your imagination and introspection has gotten you NO FURTHER in your
investigation. You try to chalk it up to lunch break, but deep down you know
"the times are tight belinda you cant just be rouging up your big lips for five
minutes when the big mans already in the office."
You suddenly hear the distinct gut-wrenching sound of HORNS SCRATCHING UP YOUR
MIRROR with a distinct "uHH, sHIT,"
Looks like the squad just got called out. This one might be a winner.
==> Dave: Carefully nudge door with toe while the mirror scratcher is
distracted by his crime
You are unsure of what this "toe" is, how it has anything to do with "nudging,"
or who this "Dave" character is. You are too busy being the door. You are not a
REAL door, of course. Oh no. Rather you are a MEMORY FIGMENT of what used to be
a FINE DOOR. Many philosophers would point to this and ask "if this was my
grandfather's door, replaced completely by an identical duplicate fabricated
from memory, would it still be my grandfather's door?" The correct answer to
that question, as far as you are concerned, is "fuck you and open me."
==> Door: Swing open
You are incapable of swinging open of your own will. In fact, the GREAT SECRET
OF DOORKIND handed down throughout centuries dictates that you DO NOT OPEN
UNLESS FORCED. It is the way you must be. Or, at least, the way you are right
now considering the gray boy locked you to conceal his LEWD BEHAVIORS. Anyway,
why would you need to open? All inhabitants in the bubble are already in the
bathroom.
==> Be Past Dave from 2 minutes ago
Who else would you be? You have obviously made the superior choice, dude. Your
current goal is to SEEK A NEW VANTAGE POINT in order to unearth the crime of
the GREAT WANKERING and MIRROR DESTRUCTION INCIDENT. You cannot go through the
door at this point in time, considering the loud noises have resumed, now with
more thumping.
You are pretty chill with all this, however. You have a solution. Maybe this
would be a problem for someone else, but not for you.
==> Dave: Go back in time, go through the door, and hide behind the shower
curtains
That sounds like the behavior of a creep that you would find lurking in the
boy's changing room at the mall. To you, that just sounds like the behavior of
YOUR BRO and therefore NORMAL.
Thankfully, time shit still appears works here. You are now in the shower,
hidden behind the curtain. Surely, this criminal will be BROUGHT TO JUSTICE.
Your bubblemate Tavros enters the bathroom and locks the door behind him.
==>Dave: Ponder the puppets piled in the shower
You look down at the pile of SMUPPETS your brother so lovingly left you in the
SHOWER. They stare up at you with a certain PERVERTED INTENT that you can't
pretend doesn't creep you the fuck out. Perhaps if you were not APPREHENDING A
CRIMINAL, you might feel like your intents were similar to those of the
smuppets. However, you have an INTENT FOR JUSTICE like Scruff McGruff has a
nose for crime. Any accusations of your intent not being justice based are
nothing more than LIES and the accusers deserve to be BANISHED. Since these
puppets seem to ACCUSE you, you suddenly have the desire to BANISH them. Maybe
if you focus you can remember a time when the puppets weren't in the tub and
you can change your bubble environment to that time.
==>Dave: Focus to make the smuppets go away
You cannot, as the puppets have always been in your shower. In fact, Bro had
them mounted into the tub floor and along the shower walls long before you can
remember. You had always been relieved that they were face-side rather than
ass-side out, but now their eyes are beginning to unnerve you. For the first
time ever, you wished it was plush rump and not penis nose that lined your
shower walls.
You are brought back to reality when you are almost BEAMED IN THE FACE with
TROLL HORNS. With a frown, you back up against the plush shower wall and
reposition yourself away from those horns of mass destruction. You hear the
sound of pants unzipping and forget about the smuppet dick-nose on your face by
being overcome by a THIRST FOR JUSTICE and a large SURGE IN YOUR PANTS. This is
it. It's happening bro.
You croon your neck to look around the shower curtain, annoyed that your shades
aren't CONDUCIVE TO EVIDENCE COLLECTION. What you can see, however, is not what
you were expecting.
Tavros seems very focused on his breathing and you hold in a snicker, knowing
he will abandon that soon enough. Your eyes travel down his body and find his
hand on what appears to be a completely normal-- albeit gray-- cock. He begins
humming softly to himself and you note that it is "When You Wish Upon a Star."
Jegus, is it even possible for him to be a bigger doofus? You are trying very
hard to hold in your laughter. Your eyes return to scanning his body and you
stiffen as you really focus on his alien fiesta stick. Oh gog.
You stop yourself from thinking about some joke about "you know what they say
about a man with big oblong horns" and stray even farther from "jeez bro are
all trolls hung like their fucking spirit animal." Still, you wonder if that's
as big as it gets.
Unconsciously, your eyes travel up your bubblemate's body again, but your eyes
snap back down to his crotch in confusion when he puts his meaty wondermaker
away. You knew how this shit was going to go down, didn't you?
==> Dave: Be Tavros
You are now TAVROS NITRAM. You are currently in the human version of a LIQUID
WASTE SECRETION UNIT, known to them as a BATHROOM. You are currently WASHING
YOUR HANDS and SMILING LIKE A DOFUS at yourself in THE MIRROR. You are having a
PRETTY GOOD DAY, if you can consider the entire time you've been dead as a day.
You have made a NEW FRIEND, who often COMES ONTO YOU through what you would
assume to be a LARGE NETWORK OF CULTURAL MISUNDERSTANDINGS. You are unsure of
why you still secrete liquid waste following your death, but you would assume
it has something to do with your NERVOUS LIQUID SECRETION SAC.
======>Tavros: Retrospect on what triggered your nervous bladder
You are unsure of what a "bladder" is, but you can tell us what made your
liquid secretion sac nervous this particular time, if that's alright.
======>Tavros: Stop being picky about the terminology and just tell the story
You and DAVE, the aforementioned NEW FRIEND, had been playing video games. He
was sitting on the couch and you were on the floor because "those horns take up
enough room to form a posse." As such, Dave has taken to calling you "tav and
the boys," "the square and his pointy band," and other equally weird and
confusing nicknames.
Dave has a KNACK for HUMAN SEXUAL INNUENDO that often makes you "uHH, a LITTLE
BIT, uNCOMFORTABLE," but also makes you "nOT UNHAPPY, rEPULSED, oR ANYTHING
LIKE THAT," In fact, it normally makes your blood pump skip a thump and
occasionally that blood goes right to your BONE BULGE. You have never been in a
relationship before and the prospect of one starting always makes you FREEZE UP
and STAMMER. It does not help that you are unsure of what to make of the
sincerity of his advances, so normally you try your BEST to IGNORE THEM.
This time your BEST WAS NOT GOOD ENOUGH.
You had been losing that weird human game again. You seemed to lose
perpetually, but you contend that's because Dave just had "wEIRD AND REALLY
VIOLENT GAMES THAT DON'T REALLY MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD," Normally, Dave just let
you keep losing, but this time on your seventeenth failed attempt to infiltrate
enemy territory, Dave paused the game. You crooned your neck back, your head
sinking slowly into the plush couch cushion behind you and you looked up at his
ever-expresionless visage. "i dont know why we even play this shit when you
seem to think its about merrily skipping around exploring the landscape like
youre a lumberjack and its okay."
That comment, like most of Dave's, had confused you to no end, but you
understood the sentiment. You were still doing it wrong. You frowned and set
your controller down, knowing that games were probably done for now and you
would probably have to try some other time to impress him. "sORRY, i WAS BUSY
THINKING AGAIN," His eyebrow shot up at that. "aLSO, i AM A LITTLE THIRSTY,
mAYBE i SHOULD GO GET SOMETHING TO DRINK FROM THE THERMAL HUB," You stood to
go, but he swiftly leaned forward and grabbed "the pointy band," pulling your
head back down onto the couch. His face hovered a mere 3 inches above yours and
you froze. Perfect pink lips loomed immediately above you. Thump thump thump.
"cmon nitram get your head in the game its hard to capture the flag when youre
too busy wondering what dress to wear to the ball tonight or whatever the hell
else goes on in that large head of yours"
You said nothing in reply, too terrified, instead staring closely at his soft
pale skin, your heart beating out of control in your ears. He leaned down
closer, his tongue sliding slowly over his lips and you shivered. You stayed
rigid, half-incoherent thoughts flying through your head at a million miles an
hour, aching for those lips to collide with your own. It felt like an eternity
before either of you moved and you finally gathered up enough pride to speak,
"dAVE, wHAT, uHH-"
He trailed his fingers down the tips of your horns, along the main length, and
finally against where they met your scalp. "is there a problem man." Slowly, he
stroked the base of your horn and your mouth fell open.
"n, nO, i JUST," Again, he rubbed at the base, this time a little harder.
Trying to hold in a shiver, you keened into his hand and he pressed back even
harder. "hNNG, dA, dAVE," His poker face fell momentarily into an expression of
shock and, just like that, his hands were gone. He quickly contorted his face
into an imperfect deadpan tainted by the growing red stains on his cheeks. Your
head throbbed and every nerve in your body was busy standing at attention, your
blood pump sinking to your stomach, wishing he would reach out and touch you
like that once more.
"heh you like that huh" The smugness in his tone shocked you.
"wH, wHAT," You stammered, not knowing what the hell had just happened. His
smirk grew wider and you sank your claws into his carpet, kneeding nervously.
His head nodded at your crotch and it felt like the whole world went still.
Your bulge.
"it seems you need a little help" Your eyes snapped down to your growing, uhh,
problem and you quickly pushed yourself up off of the floor, dismissing
yourself with a poorly veiled "i, uHH, jUST NEED TO VISIT YOUR LIQUID WASTE
SECRETION ROOM," Thankfully, the embarrassment had alerted your bulge that no
action would come of that moment, and had just filled you with the URGENT NEED
to rid yourself of LIQUID WASTE.
Now, here you are.
You begin focus on your reflection again. That memory got you worked up. Again.
You just have to close your eyes and breathe.
Instead, you begin to remember the feeling of his fingers running slowly down
your horns and brushing against your scalp and how much you "liked that." You
can feel the blood shooting to your crotch again.
======>Tavros: Consider the fact that feelings are hard and no one understands
You frown and look down at the sink, failing to make eye contact with yourself.
Who are you kidding? Dave doesn't mean anything by it. He is most likely just
MESSING WITH YOUR HEAD in order to see you writhe. It seems your mind does not
agree, for, from the depths of your brain, an ANGEL'S CHORUS begins to play.
Your eyes raise slowly to look at the reflection in the mirror and you swear
that you can see an OLDER, SUAVER VERSION of YOURSELF in the reflection. A wild
RUFIO has appeared. RUFIO'S VOICE booms in your head, "He's showing the signs
of being flushed for you; you just have to believe! Don't get so down, my
little friend! Charge ahead!" In support of his claims, Rufio offers the PILES
OF EVIDENCE you have been collecting for Dave's potential flushcrush on you.
Rufio seems intent on hammering one memory in particular into your head. Under
his guidance, you begin to REMINISCE.
Some time ago, you had been watching a shitty movie when Dave wordlessly patted
the cushion beside him. After quite a debacle with your horns, you both finally
managed to fit on the couch when Dave slid so that his head was beneath your
horns. Not five minutes after you had gotten situated, Dave stretched, wrapping
his arm around your back and squeezing your shoulder. You began to stammer
nervously, but he put his finger against your lips, crooning softly, "ssh only
bad movies now ssshhh" His fingers dropped, trailing slowly down your neck
before resting against your abdomen, and you swallowed hard. It seemed Dave
wouldn't let up, though, as his other hand began moving up and down your arm
sent delicate jolts of pleasure up your spine. The thumping of your heart in
your ears was so loud you couldn't focus on the movie any longer. At the end,
he ran his fingers up the back of your neck, softly pushing up your hair and
then smoothing it again. By the time he stood up and left the room, your entire
body was tingling and you were a mess.
That was far from the only time. Your bulge throbs as you think about the time
he began whispering in your ear, tugging at the pointed part of the lobe with
his lips. A shiver runs up your spine as the time he dragged your shirt over
your head just to "see how that shit works" and took the opportunity to rub the
nubs left by your vestigal legs. You remember the sensation of his soft fingers
running slowly over the bumps, rubbing and caressing them carefully, in and out
of every indent in your body. Your pulse escalates as you think about the time
he rubbed every kink out of your back in what was called a "human massage," his
oil-slicked fingers trailing all over your back. Not being able to take the
sudden influx of memories anymore, you have taken to PALMING YOURSELF THROUGH
YOUR PANTS and are listening closely to see if Dave is waiting. Luckily for
your THROBBING ERECTION, it sounds like he has started another game and you can
get away with taking some one on one time with Tav Junior.
It has been quite some time since you last relieved yourself. The last time was
when you were in your own bubble. You begin to question whether here and now is
the right time and place, but you decide that you can just make it quick.
You take in a deep breath and your fingers shake as you undo the button of your
pants. You push them down just enough to grab the base of your bulge and you
shiver. You let go and slide your fingers past your bulge, brushing them along
the entrance to your nook. Slickening fluid drips from it down you hand and you
shudder. You haven't been this turned on in a long time. Even if you don't
relieve yourself, you'll already need to rinse off your nook to make sure the
lube doesn't stain your pants. It seems you really need it.
==> Shower Dave: Watch in fascination
You have just finished watching your bubblemate sing A GLORIOUS HYMN softly
before talking to his reflection in a FAUX DEEP VOICE. You raise an eyebrow at
the spectacle. You have no clue in hell as to how he got "such good shit" or
what kind of bizarre trip that "good shit" was sending him on, although
apparently it included not only an exclusive tour for one down schizo lane, but
also a ticket for one lithe Troll Back to meet a certain Fine Door, and an all
expenses-paid vacation to exotic Cockland Village for one eager hand.
You may not have been invited to this exclusive event, but you guess you must
be in the hypothetical bushes immediately outside of Cockland Village (you note
quickly that in fact, Tavros does not have a bush over his junk, so that
metaphor is not nearly as creepy as it could be). You watch intently as his
hand runs the length of that thick spectacle of a cock that you had thought was
massive before, but seeing it now sends bolts of envy to your crotch. Against
all logic and laws of nature, it somehow managed to get even bigger, the tip
now rubbing and writhing against his lower abdomen. Back the fuck up- writhing?
You had thought he was just uncut before, but it seems that what you had
assumed to be normal foreskin was actually a sheath for something alarmingly
tentacle-esque. Tentacle-esque? Scratch that. It bended and curled like a
tentacle. It squirmed like a tentacle. It slowly tapered off to a slimy tip. It
has soft ridges all the way up the edge like you would assume the sex industry
would design to market as a "sex tentacle for her pleasure- now with more
bumps!" It was covered in a thin sticky brown film, which you figured must be
some kind of lube, as the parts that glistened the most allowed for Tavros's
fingers to slide over the quickest. It was, for all intensive purposes, a
tentacle. What you had been staring at before was merely the sheath; the real
site to behold was the thick, bumpy, self-lubricating tentacle cock. Oh jegus.
Your throat goes dry as Tavros lets out a soft moan. His fingers are sliding up
the length of his unsheathed tentacle slowly, taking careful measures to
squeeze the girth a little tighter after every ridge. He pinches the tip and
his mouth drops ajar silently before he slides his hand back down across the
ridges again. Without stopping his ministrations, he slides his back down the
door and sits on the bathroom floor, his horns just barely missing really
fucking up the sink. He begins to buck and your eyes widen behind the shades-
is he...? No, it would seem that was some kind of failed clumsy attempt at
kicking his pants off. After another hilarious spectacle of writhing and
kicking, he loses round two against the pants. You could not be more happy that
you are here for this show. With a gasp, he finally takes his hand off his
bulge and removes the stubborn piece of clothing. Without missing a beat, he
squeezes the base of his arousal again.
In the back of your mind, a small voice attempts to keep you on track; You're
just waiting for the mirror scratching incident, then you'll stop watching.
This is evidence. You brush it off with a silent nod and watch Tavros spread
his legs as far open as possible, exposing himself entirely on your floor.
Normally, you might just find it in you to smirk and make some joke about how
predictable that a guy like him has no balls, but rather you are captivated by
the fact that he has not two holes- one immediately below his tentacle where
you thought his balls WOULD be and the one you were expecting. Upon closer
inspection, you note that the entire area is covered with the same lube-like
substance that coated his cock. He probably is really easy to-
Oh fuck no. Not going there. No. You try to push the thought away and succeed,
but only because you notice him carefully bending down and attempting to lick
the tip of the tentacle. Your mouth hangs open in awe as tongue meets
tentacock. Shit. Should he get a trophy for some kind of lonely geek
achievement for blowing himself? Or is that more of a general "I'm proud of
you, son" achievement? You're a little unsure, especially when the tentacle
wraps around the tip of Tavros's tongue and he lets out a whimper. His eyes go
widen and he pulls his head up, a small trail of saliva still connecting his
tongue and tip of the tentacle.
You hold your breath softly, hoping that he didn't hear you in the hallway. You
close your eyes and hear the faint sounds of Halo and you exhale quietly.
You're not out there yet. When you open your eyes again, you notice that Tavros
has changed position, his ass listed slightly off the floor. He is looking
around intently. You don't have to ponder long as he reaches out and grabs the
smuppet on a stick that Bro always claimed was a plunger. You are eager to see
what plans Tavros has for it. Maybe this can be added to the list of
violations.
Tavros inspects the smuppet with a frown and you smirk, glad that your roommate
disapproves as well. Maybe one day the two of you can DESTROY ALL SMUPPETS, but
that day must wait. You watch intently as his fingers run the length of the
handle, lingering on the tip. He takes in a deep breath and you unconsciously
take one in unison with him. Carefully, he positions the tip of the handle at
his back entrance and your eyes widen. Is he seriously going to just slide it
in?
"hNNG,"
...Well, fuck. It seems so. He inserts only a little, but it is apparently
enough for him to through his head back in ecstasy, his jaw thrown all the way
open. Suddenly, you become aware of your hand in your boxers. Oh no. No no no.
This isn't something that you can do. This isn't actually-
"hNNG, aAAH, d, dAVE, "
Against your will, your heart drops to your stomach and your erection throbs.
You move over and hide completely behind the curtain again. You cannot find it
in you to make a joke about how "all the ladies fap to this fine piece of
strider ass even the freaky troll dudeladies" because this is entirely too
real. You're far out of joking territory now. It seems your INTERNAL POKER FACE
of LEVEL 46 is NOT GOOD ENOUGH, as you begin to freak out a little.
Why the fuck is this freaking you out? Get your head it the game. You take a
deep breath to try to calm yourself. Maybe it's just that you haven't been able
to get your wank on since that dofus began following you everywhere in this
death bubble. Yes. That must be it. So, doing it now, just this once, should be
excusable, right?
Your bubblemate's breath hitches and you reluctantly peek around the curtain
again. You can no longer see where his tentacle is. You look down at his other
hole and you hate yourself a little for beginning to salivate.
Is he fucking himself with a plunger and his own tentacle? What? Shit.
==> DAVE: Lean forward too far to get a better look and fall out of the shower.
No. Why the hell would you do that? That would DESTROY ALL HOPE of evidence
collection. Remember? Evidence collection? You haven't forgotten that evidence
collection is what this is all about. Still, it's true you can't see anything.
You'll lean forward a little more but not enough to-
Thump. Shit.
Tavros looks at you in horror, the plunger still sticking out of his ass and
his cock shoved deep inside of him. You sit up and pick your sunglasses up off
the floor, sliding them up your nose. You look up at him and shrug. Welp.
==>Tavros: be the porn star
You cannot be the porn star. You are far too mortified. If you were in a better
place mentally, you might wonder what being the porn star entailed, but if you
did, you would quickly come to the realization that it “wOULDN’T BE A TERRIBLY
GOOD IDEA, pERHAPS,” especially considering that being the accidental porn star
is what landed you in this predicament to begin with. Suddenly, something dawns
on you.
He saw it. Oh god oh god oh god.
You quickly snap your knees together, the plunger sliding out of your nook with
a faint pop. To your aroused horror, Dave reaches out and calmly pulls your
knees back apart, pinning them to the ground under his weight. In a second
flat, his face is lingering mere inches from yours and you wonder how he got so
fast.
“cmon bro cant just start the gun show and close up the exhibition as soon as
the feds come through for inspection”
Your mouth falls open in shock as you wade past the verbosity and the
implication registers in the back of your mind. He wants you to keep going. For
a moment, the whole world stands still. Then his breath ghosts across your lips
and suddenly your heart is everywhere; falling to your stomach, lodging itself
in your throat, trying to deafen you with a loud set of thump thump thumps in
your ears. Every second passes like sweeps, and it feels like you’re spinning.
It is as if you’re a grub again and time can’t go fast enough.
He looks down at your crotch again and his gaze sets you on fire. You can feel
it consuming you, eating up every little shard of dignity you have left. You
realize that there is no place left to hide. You try to back away out of
instinct, but he tightens his grip on your knees and pins you in place. You
feel like you’ve been added to some perverse collection of captured
flutterbeasts, your wings spread and your soul bared under the microscope. You
can no longer abscond.
“well the press is waiting in anticipation for that big release” His words hit
your cheek in hot, breathy bursts and your stomach turns over twice. You try to
turn your head away, but your horn hits against the door.
“w, wHAT,” His face looms in closer to yours and your mouth goes dry. You
silently curse the rush of blood to your bulge when he begins to speak again,
each word brushing his soft, moist lips against yours.
“they have cameras at the ready bro are you going to keep them waiting” When he
finishes speaking, his lips still linger on yours, unmoving. You wonder if your
back could be any stiffer and if you have ever been this nervous in your entire
life.
“iS THAT SOME KIND OF HUMAN INNUENDO,” You find yourself saying each word
carefully, reveling in each soft brush against his lips that every syllable
brings you.
His teeth pull at your bottom lip and you whimper; this is the type of thing
that causes heart attacks in guys like you. “dude do I have to spell shit out
for you every time" He shook his head and the tip of his nose presses against
yours. "did papabull never take you in the back stable and teach you about
being a man”
The sound of your rapid heavy breathing is just about enough to compete with
the pounding in your ears and you wonder if you will ever hear normally again.
You don’t know what to say, you just wish that he would do that thing with his
teeth again. “i, tHINK IT WOULD BE, nICE, iF WE MAYBE, uHH,”
==> Dave: Shut that boy up
***** DAVE: Shut that boy up *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
With one finger you lift his chin, eyeing his Adam's apple as it trembles with
his feeble attempts at communication. "what tav"
Your body starts to tingle when he brings his arms up and wraps them tightly
around your back in response. Is he shaking? Or is that you? Surely it's him,
your mind drawls, You don't shake. That's not a thing that you do. Right? It's
impossible to tell in this mess of awkward limbs that you've gotten yourself
tangled into if that is or is not a thing that you do. Better throw this shit
to Cold Case, this investigation is as fruitless as a rock garden.
What you do know that you are not close enough to him and that him holding you
tighter would be very welcome; you also know that this desperation is not
compliant with Striderian-approved levels of cool, and the popo might just have
to make the arrest and shut this operation down.
==> Dave: Reclaim your cool
You have no interest in reclaiming your cool, as you are TOO HORNY TO CARE.
Instead, you reach a compromise with your cool gland, leaning in close enough
to graze your teeth down his throat. You barely succeed at holding in a tremor
of excitement as he stiffens underneath you.
"if we uhh what" You murmur, nipping at his neck, and he cannot suppress a loud
moan. You bring your hand up and clasp it over his mouth, his eyes growing wide
in surprise.
You tug at his ear lobe with your teeth. Reward: one stifled whimper and a
throbbing pulse in downtown Dave Dicktown. "i thought this inspection was going
to keep going-" Your breath hitches. Fuck, his hands feel good on your back
like that. Is that just from his nails scratching through your shirt? You arch
your back involuntarily and wonder how long you can keep your composure.
"you gonna let me down and make me get a warrant for that illegal-" shit,
what's a good metaphor for tentacle? You nip at his collar bone, gaining yet
another soft moan. "whip-" oh yeah, real good one. Hold the phones. The
President of the Euphemisms club just stepped down and demanded that you take
his place.
Lick. "hNNG,"
"that you're smuggling into the United Bubbleoplis of Stride-Nitram" Your free
hand slides up his bare thighs. Goddammit, is his skin allowed to be this
smooth?
Better call a doctor quickly before his panting gives you an even bigger case
of the dick swelling blues. A shudder goes up your spine when you meet his
desperate, begging eyes. It suddenly occurs to you that you hope he doesn't
actually tell you what he wants- you just want to watch him whimper and stare
at you in desperation as you try to wring it out of him.
==>Dave: Stop being a dick and kiss the boy/freaky troll dudelady/whatever
"d, dAVE, pLEASE," His jaw has gone slack and you can hear his loud, desperate,
and, as always, raspy breathing. He should seriously see someone about that
shit. Or correct it with his thoughts or something. Fuck if you know how these
thought-driven fantasy bubbles work.
"what is it man you gotta spit it out before i break in and confiscate what
youve got" His whimpers fill you with what feels like absolute power and you
wonder how you never felt this before. Only one thing could make this better:
if your trouser dachshund wasn't screaming for you to stick it in that sticky
coppery mess he was packing downstairs. Fuck, maybe his tentacle could wrap
around your... shit. Did you just swoon? Oh fuck no.
Tavros swallows hard and your eyes fall to his Adam's Apple again. Why is that
so fascinating? "i THOUGHT THAT YOU SHOULD MAYBE, kISS ME, iNSTEAD OF, y,
mMPH,"
A shiver runs down your spine as you happily comply. Is it supposed to feel
this good to be-
Clink. You painfully come to the realization that teeth are about as conducive
to kissing as a cat in a top hat is to valet parking. You reel back and rub
your teeth with the back of your hand. Fuck. That hurt. You look up and notice
that he is holding his mouth as well.
==> Dave: Don't let it get to you
Carefully, you ply Tavros's hand away and watch as it goes slack at his side.
You slip your fingers through his and he lets out a soft gasp. Thump. This has
gone too fucking far. He leans up and tentatively rubs the tip of his nose
against yours. Ba-dumb. Totally illegal. A hundred percent illegal. "mAYBE,"
illegalillegalillegal, "aGAIN,"
Taking a deep breath, you press your foreheads together. You can feel the rapid
pulse in the ashen hand in yours and his breath on your lips. This feels far
better than you ever could have imagined it would. "where doin this bro"
His eyebrows furrow in confusion. Seriously? Have you never slipped that into
conversation? Did he want to tap your ass without touching SBaHJ? Fuck it, it's
irrelevant now. You lean in and kiss him again, taking note of the surprising
softness of his lips. You wonder how they taste and just for a moment, you run
your tongue along the bottom one. Tavros's lips part slightly with a moan and
you take the opportunity to stab your tongue on his teeth.
Thud. You are back to sitting on the ground again, nursing your wounded tongue
and your wounded pride. "fuck bro what are you packing in there-- daggers?"
Shit, you should have figured this guy would be the worst kisser since
Lickitung and Jack the Ripper's sad disgrace of a son.
==> DAVE: Consider that YOU are the bad kisser
You will only accept this proposition if you are IRONICALLY BAD at kissing.
Considering this for a moment, you remember the second rule of the Strider
household- "there is nothing ironic about not adequately tapping dat ass."
Welp. Looks like that option is sunk. Not you. Can't be you. Must be him. Too
bad.
You smack your lips and swallow the pooling puddle of blood in your mouth. Ugh.
That's the good shit. Give the boy another hit of that, bartender. Last shot of
the night, it seems. Looks like we're done here. You chalk it up to a failed,
almost cliche (but with way too much tentacle) teenage sexuality experiment,
now wiped from memory. Nothing to see here, officer, move along.
You stand to go and hit your head on the sink. "FUCK" Cradling your head in
your hands, you fall back down onto the floor. Hard. On your ass. Fuck. Tavros
leans up on his knees and reaches out, rubbing your temples. "dAVE ARE YOU OK,"
His fingers brush against your hairline and, even through all the pain, your
crotch pulses in short morse code bursts do want. Fuck. It hurts too much for
you to even wonder how you understand morse code. Maybe it's just what you
think it's saying every time it pulses like that.
"yeah man just" You flinch, as if that would shake off your sudden headache
mixed with an overdose of desire. "ill be fine in a second bro" You look up at
the source of all this pain and want, jarred to find a doofy smile playing at
his lips. "what the hell are you grinning about" Your hands push his out of the
way and you begin rubbing your own temples. His fingers tangle in with the back
of your hair and you involuntarily lean into the touch, "is this about your
hate boner bro do you like seeing me try to bash my skull in with a healthy
dose of porcelain"
"nO i DON'T, hATE YOU," He shuffles nervously and looks aside, "iT'S JUST THAT
YOU ARE A LITTLE CLUMSY AND i gUESS i AM A LITTLE PLEASANTLY SURPRISED, Shit.
He's right. Your clumsy shenanigans as of late have been piling up in a huge
mound of IRREVOCABLE EVIDENCE. The dweeb might be rubbing off on you, but the
fact of the matter is that, without your Bro around to train you 24/7, your
coordination has started to slip. You realize with a sudden dripping alarm that
the evidence might just be pointing to your absolute ineptitude at kissing.
Your descent from Mt. Coolympius when the doofus stammers, "i WAS ACTUALLY
THINKING THAT WE SHOULD GO SLOWER, aND mAYBE, wE COULD TRY IT WITH OUR MOUTHS
CLOSED THIS TIME,"
You try to shoot him an incredulous look, but he just continues to stare at you
eagerly, rubbing the nape of your neck softly. "uM, aLSO, cOULD YOU LOOK AT
ME," Don't comply. Don't comply. It's a trap it's a- aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, you
complied. You dunkass. You deserve him sliding your shades off. Don't even try
to grab them back and make yourself look more desperate and uncool. That's
right, you deserve to shiver and feel naked without them. You asked for this by
breaking the first rule of the Strider household- "you do not think about
Strider household rules." You can worry about why that's a thing later and how
that even makes an ounce of sense by breaking the rule again. Later.
You sigh and watch as he sets your shades up on your new sink nemesis.
Resigning, you chuckle at your absolute helplessness in this situation and
wonder if it falls under Alanis Moreisette's definition of Irony. Fuck,
couldn't anything? "first you jack off in your bros home and then you steal his
shades"
Fuck your heart for fluttering when you make eye contact with him. You force a
poker face again, wondering how long it will even hold up this time. "rude
nitram"
His face falls. Is he considering what absolute bullshit all of this is? "i
GUESS SO, bUT i THINK YOU MIGHT WANT THIS, tOO,"
When did your mouth turn into a cotton factory? Well, at least it doesn't taste
like blood anymore. He looks at you eagerly, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.
"oR MAYBE i WAS, uHH, mISTAKEN,"
"fuck nitram seriously" Did your voice just crack? God fucking dammit. Talking
to these doofuses is so much easier via text. They don't know when they've
gotten to you then.
He pulls his fingers from the nape of your neck and your heart drops for what
feels like the millionth time since you came into the bathroom. Defeat hasn't
written itself that pitifully across someones face since Napoleon's at
Waterloo. "just keep hitting me with the advice man"
His throat clicks and you wonder what the fuck is wrong now. Whatever. He was
probably just too derpy to understand what you were saying. You lean in and
kiss him again softly, hoping that gives him a clue. Your tongue attempts to
pry his lips apart and he presses his hand at your chest. What the hell.
"i DON'T MEAN TO INTERRUPT, uHH, bUT WHEN i KISSED THIS GIRL BEFORE, iT FELT
PRETTY GOOD, yOU KNOW, wITHOUT THE TONGUE,"
Shit. He's kissed someone before? General Strider, come in for your debriefing.
You made a fool of us out there in the field and we have no choice but to strip
you of your wings. That's right, it doesn't matter what kind of shit you went
through in Nam, you're out of duty, son.
"i HOPE YOU DON'T TAKE THIS AS A MEAN THING, bUT i THINK YOU KISSED ME A LITTLE
TOO, hARD, uHH, aND IT FELT LIKE YOUR TONGUE WAS, iNVADING MY MOUTH, "
You are at a loss for words, and your jaw drops a little in awe. It is more
than a little ironic that this dweeb is better than you and your IRONY GAMBIT
is over 9000 (That is, if you had such a thing, which, ironically, you do not).
He grabs your wrists and looks up at you nervously. The look alone is making
you a little dizzy. Congratulations, you have just hit the absolute bottom rung
of the sexual echeladder, somewhere below Homely Prematurater. "mAY i MAYBE
SHOW YOU, tHE WAY i WAS THINKING OF,"
Quicker than you can shrug and spout out some line about how you're the
swooning little virgin here, his lips are against yours. This time, it's
different. This time, it makes you lose your concentration and get a little
dizzy from the contact high. You bring a hand up and grip his shirt, pulling
him into you a little more. His fingers run through the back of your hair and
it's as if everything around you has gone dark. His lips are the only thing you
can feel and you think that isn't such a bad thing. He deepens the kiss you
clear your throat to suppress a gasp. When your tongues do meet, it's in short,
delicate brushes that leave you hungry for more. He pulls away, but
instinctively you pull him in for more, straddling his legs and running your
fingers along his horns.
You begin grinding against his-
You pull away and look down at his dick, which is rubbing against your belly
button. He grips the back of your shirt and takes in a labored breath, "i HOPE
THIS ISN'T WEIRD FOR YOU, bUT i THINK IT WOULD BE A NICE THING IF YOU MAYBE,
dIDN'T HAVE YOUR PANTS ON TOO,"
You smirk and lean in to kiss him again, but he presses his hand firmly against
your chest once more. "sup"
"oR, MAYBE YOUR SHIRT, oR SOMETHING,"
"kind of a boring story for me down there bro"
==>Dave's Spam Porpoise: Make the boy stop stalling
Chapter End Notes
     Argh. I can't believe I did that. I thought I was clicking the
     "delete chapter" button. Please let me know if I have any typos, etc,
     since I had to revert to an older version. Thank you guys for all
     your kind comments, bookmarks, and kudos on the old version <3
     Anyway, this has since been updated on the kinkmeme if you are eager
     for more NOW. (http://homesmut.livejournal.com/
     6376.html?thread=10295016#t10295016)
***** DAVE'S SPAM PORPOISE: Stop the boy from stalling *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
As a One-Eyed Trouser Snake, you do not take orders. You just take STIMULATION.
You also take BLOOD to ensure that you become UNCOMFORTABLY ENGORGED. You are
currently at that state and slightly annoyed at your KISMESIS, a devious foe
known as DAVE'S BOXERS. You attempt to twitch, but your LOVING GOD AND MASTER,
Dave Strider, does not seem to find the need to free you. Woe onto you, oh
uncomfortably hard one. What choice do you have but continue your throbbing
vigil in hopes that He who is good will free you from your plight?
==> Dave: Stop that Throbbing
You would like to stop the throbbing, but your confidence meter as fallen to
critical status. This has induced a status slowing spell known as NERVES and
has made you a MASTER OF STALLING. As part of your master plan, you move your
lips to Tavros's neck and begin to suck. "i AM GOING TO TAKE OFF YOUR PANTS,"
Your heart skips a beat. Fuck. That was sexy to hear. "iF THAT'S OK," You smirk
at the addition of the last line.
"sure bro i shouldnt have tried coming to this party with pants anyway" The
thought you have as he works your button upon and undoes your fly is god his
smile is too fucking innocent for what hes asking for. As he's working off your
boxers and skinny jeans, you begin thinking about where this is going. All this
shit in one day is a little bit too much for you. Holy fuck. Is he seriously
going to deflower you with his sticky squid leg? Is that what all the thumping
was about? When your pants are all the way off of you, you don't even try to
think anymore. You just hold your breath, waiting. And waiting. Aaaaaaaand
waiting. And... ok, you can't hold it any longer. How long is he just going to
loom over your crotch without doing anything?
"i know its a magnificent specimen man but my cock doesnt start spewing sweet
spunk just by being ogled alone" You wait for some kind of response, but Tavros
continues to stare at your junk intently. "seriously bro i know i dont have a
tripped out tentacock for all your hentai fantasy needs but just looking is
sending me down turnoff lane for a quick jaunt into never-talking-about-this-
again-ville"
He lets out a squeaked "sORRY dAVE," and shoot his hand out with a little bit
too much finesse to grip your-
"OH MY GOD LET GO FUCK" He releases his death grip on your balls and the
aftermath of the pain is still shuddering down your spine. He's looking at you
in terror. He's pulled his hands back against his chest and... is he pouting?
Oh jegus. He's like a fucking dog that bit down on your leg and then laid down
at your feet looking up at you with the most sincere 'you don't hate me, do you
man? Because I love you!' expression that you just can't resist.
It suddenly seems a lot quieter in the bathroom and you remember why when you
realize that the loud booming of virtual gunshots is no longer sweeping through
your living room. Oh fuck, you screaming at the vice of torture on your balls
was the loud noise you had heard that made you pause the game. How close to the
door had past you gotten by this point? Fuck, you don't remember. "dAVE, wHA-
" You cover his mouth with your hand and gently "ssh" him. Eying the crack in
the door, you curse silently to yourself that you can't see anything from this
angle. Tav is looking at you with a question in his eyes and you figure that
you should probably tell him.
You lean in and begin whispering in his ear. "ok man so heres the thing" When
you were in the hall, you had never heard yourself making noises- or at least
you didn't think so. You were sure you had never heard yourself talking.Oh fuck
oh fuck oh fuck. What if this is an unstable time loop? Could you die again?
Why the HELL did you even still have time powers anyway. Your mind spun at the
implications. "past me is in the hallway and we cant talk anymore" You wonder
what kind of expression Tavros was wearing. "im going to drop my hand now"
As soon as your hand leaves his lips, he whispers "uH, wHAT," Seriously? Your
hand comes up and clamps over his mouth again, "ok man talking is exactly the
opposite of what i just told you to do" Seriously, this kid is thicker than the
Collected Works of Glenn Beck. "shut up bro the fbi has come to take your booty
away"
Into your hand, the muffled letters "f, b, i," are muttered and you desperately
yearn to bring your other hand up to smack your forehead. "just try to be
quiet" You tentatively remove your hand from his lips and he nods. You pull
back and he leans forward past your shoulder and starts whispering into your
ear, "iS IT OK IF WE MAYBE, uHH, cONTINUE,"
Your eyebrow shoots up and you wonder if he secretly has a thing for being
overheard or seen in the act. His fingers trail up and down your arm, and his
other arm wraps around your waist. You lean into the touch and rest your chin
on his shoulder. With each raspy breath, his chest and yours collide and you
bring your arms up to circle around him. It's not like you have much choice in
continuing or not. You know what you heard. "yeah"
Did he just giggle? God dammit. He's such a chick.
==>Dave: Shit, son, you better be the New World cause that boy's Columbus
Thud. Your back collides with the floor and Tavros looms above you, his glossy
white eyes scanning your face quickly before immediately shooting down to your
groin. Hopy shit, stop being nervous, your mind reminds you to no avail as you
watch Tavros eagerly surveying your crotch. Oh sweet jegus. You wonder how many
dumbass questions he has pent up about your junk. At least they will have to
wait for some other time. Other time? You push the question to the back of your
mind when his fingers tentatively stroke the head of your semi-erect cock.
Electric pulses through your body and you tense, thrusting up into the touch.
Tavros pauses momentarily, looking up at your face again in awe. You nod,
hoping that the production won't stop every time you make a sudden move.
Thankfully, he takes it as a go ahead, his fingers drag slowly down the length
of your cock and your hand reaches out to grasp his forearm. He looks down at
you and cocks his head in question, but you simply thrust up into his hand.
Thank gog he got the fucking point this time, you think as his fingers travel
back up and down the length of your cock once more.
The rough callouses on the tips of his fingers slide over the head of your
erection and you shudder, letting out a soft whimper. His eyes widen and he
looks up at you like he just hit the fucking jackpot and you're spewing the god
damn quarters. One of his fingers trails across the head again and you arch
into the touch.
He brings his other hand up and his fingers tangle through your pubes. "agh"
you yelp as his claws poke at the hilt of your cock. He retracts his hand with
such speed that you wonder if you should have been taking your speed lessons
from him rather than Bro. Tavros looks down at you with wide, nervous eyes and
you reach out, wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck and pulling
him closer to you, you ghost your lips over his ear. “watch the daggers bro i
don't want the cockpocaplyse coming down on me”
For good measure, you tug softly on his ear with your teeth and he whimpers.
Your fingers wrap around his hand and slowly bring it to your cock. Your breath
hitches as he slowly slides his fingertips up and down the length again. His
breath hisses into your ear and you lean closer to it, savoring the
sensation."uHH, hOW DO YOU, yOU KNOW,"
Normally you'd give him some kind of shit for that line; how the fuck are you
to know what he wants? But now is not the time for bullshit, now is the time to
stop the cock tease. "mostly magic and miracles" Never mind. There you go
again. Your cock is betrayed by your mind, ready to turn you in for treason.
His hand stops moving and you let out a soft whimper, keening up into his
touch."cOULD YOU, sHOW ME,"
Your fingers wrap around his and begin sliding his hand up and down yet again.
You let out a soft shuddering breath of relief. "show you what" Fuck, that came
out sounding like you were some chick in a soft core porn being way too
desperate to make this shit sound real.
"hOW, yOUR BULGE WORKS," The last part is barely audible and you wonder how he
can still be shy about what you're doing.
You speed up the pace of his hand and tug at his earlobe with your teeth.
Jegus, do you actually like having it withheld from you? You answer your mind
with a soft shrug. You can have an existential crisis about your kinks at a
later time. "are your seriously asking me to spank it for you"
"uHH, yOU MEAN YOU HAVE TO SLAP IT FOR IT TO WORK," You smirk and slide your
hand off of his,tangling your fingers through the back of his mohawk.
"yeah man you know beating your meat"
"sO IF I JUST," Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as he brings his hand
up and it dawns on you that he actually is going to slap you on the dick. Your
hand shoots out and grabs his wrist before he brings his slap-happy wrath down
on you.
"fuck no dont man" You sigh and smirk lazily, your mind happening upon what
must be yet another one of your kinks. "look ill show you, a show for a show."
You push gently on his chest, nipping at his neck and soliciting a moan. He
looks at you eagerly when you pull your mouth away.
Welp. Guess it's business time.
==>Dave:Do it like they do on the Discovery Channel Late-night HBO
Your eyes meet his as you wrap your fingers around your erection and you can
feel a dirty smirk spreading across your face. “are you watching closely and
taking notes on this shit tav” You slowly begin to pump and grit your teeth to
hold in a gasp.
His raspy breath becomes labored and he can't tear his eyes away from the slow
cadence of your hand sliding up and down your shaft. You stifle a moan in your
throat, all too cognizant of your past self listening it up in the hallway and
secretly loving his ignorance. Too bad this shit can't be a proper show. How
far can you push yourself without exploding of sheer desire? Shit, son, let's
find the fuck out.
You slide a finger over the head of your cock, smearing small beads of precum
down your length, every nerve in your body standing on end and begging for
stimulation. You arch up off the floor and bring your teeth down onto your lip.
You begin to pump faster,looking up at him again to make sure he's still
watching. You swallow hard when you realize his eyes are on your face, drinking
in what is surely some kind of dirty expression. Somewhere in the back of your
head, your mind screams to bask in the moment and you are all too happy to
comply.
Slowly, you throw your head back and let your mouth fall open, reveling in the
dark copper blush that spreads across his cheeks. You bring your other hand up
and cup your balls softly, before sliding it slowly behind them and pressing
against your taint. You arch your back and skid slightly against the bathroom
floor. It seems your clientèle barely noticed your slow migration across the
floor and you notice his hand is hovering like the fucking mother ship ready to
come in for a fucking member abduction.
Reluctantly, you take your hand away and wait intently for- what now. His
fingers wrap around your erection and you grind your hips up into his hand. He
stays still, bringing his other hand up to brush softly against your balls-
holy shit that is fucking nice- down across your taint and... oh jesus. Not
again. His fingers play at your asshole and you watch him like a hawk. The idea
of his nails close to your asshole, penetrating it... you shiver. The boy is an
awkward set of jagged angles and sharp points that you don't need fucking you
up.
His hand begins to move up and down your shaft and you thrust into his
hand,begging him to go faster. With one hard thrust, his nails simultaneously
dig into your abdomen and your ass cheeks. "ah! fuck bro" Quickly, you push his
hands off of you and he looks down in confusion. To your relief, instead of
being an idiot and attempting to speak aloud, he leans down and whispers
softly, “iS THERE SOMETHING WRONG dAVE,”
Oh god. When did he start saying your name like you were some kind of delicate
flower that he didn't want to tread on. When the hell did you start liking it?
“its fine man just humans arent into getting their junk fucked up when theyre
getting kinky” His breath stops and you snap your head to the side, succeeding
in pressing your face against his. He rubs his cheek against yours and you
wonder if every little thing now turns you on. Pretty soon, you'll be jizzing
in your pants from him looking at you all kawaii uguu desu desu.
“yOU ARE TALKING ABOUT MY NAILS, rIGHT,” Give the kid a fucking medal. He's
just progressed to the level where he can finally follow a not-so-naive thread
of conversation. He deserves the Purple fucking Tentacle or Blood Pumper or
whatever the fuck.
“yeah dont worry about it bro well try again some time when we get you
declawed” You start to chuckle and suddenly feel extremely rigid. You're in
your body, but it's as if you have no fucking control. You attempt to open your
mouth and fail, panic mode setting in. Oh man oh god, oh god oh man.
Tavros begins to speak again and you can feel your lips moving with his. “i CAN
USE YOUR HAND, yOU KNOW,”
He pulls away and looks at you with a smile, your hand slowly working its way
down to your crotch. He leans in again and you shiver as your fingers- can you
even call them yours at this point? You're moving so fucking awkwardly that
it's foreign- and your lips move with his words. “iS THAT GOING TO BE A GOOD
SOLUTION,”
He pulls back and looks at your face. His eyebrows are arched suggestively, his
lips parted and looking oddly kissable, his eyelids half-drawn... Goddammit, he
shouldn't be allowed to look that sexy. Then, his expression falls once more to
adorkable as sudden control of your body returns and muscles that you didn't
even know you had fall into more comfortable positions. “oOPS, sORRY dAVE, ” He
looks aside, talking a mile a minute in a slur of breathy words, “i NEVER TRIED
IT ON A HUMAN BEFORE,sO i DIDN'T KNOW WHAT WOULD HAPPEN AND THEN I KIND OF
ALMOST RAPED YOU AND-”
“woah woah woah slow down man" You shift uncomfortably, trying to get used to
your own skin again, your head still veering as you try to piece together what
the hell just commandeered your body. "do what”
“i CAN KIND OF, uHH, cONTROL NON-TROLLS AND I THOUGHT IT MIGHT BE A NICE THING
SINCE MY NAILS ARE SHARP AND I DIDN'T WANT TO HURT YOU, bUT IT JUST WAS A WEIRD
THING AND-”
"wait that was you with some kind of freaky alien powers" your heart skips a
beat and your erection throbs at the thought of total lack of self control.
"yEAH BUT i WON'T DO IT AGAIN, iT'S NOT LIKE I HAVE TO-"
“do it bro it's fine” He stops talking and looks at you in shock. Slowly, the
corners of his mouth turn up into soft smile.
“oH, oKAY,” Suddenly, you surrender your ability to move again and you think it
might be fucked up, but you've never been more turned on in your life.
==> Tavros: Be Dave while Dave is Dave.
You think this is, uhh, a little hard to do, considering this is the first time
you've ever really used your powers for something like this. It would have been
a little weird to do it before now though, and maybe you even feel a little bit
odd about doing it now. But, this time, you kind of need it to make your maybe
matesprit-that's what he is now, right?- feel safe and good and be able to, you
know, pail properly. For the first time ever, you feel completely in control of
your situation and it is making the floor beneath you into one fine orange,
gooey mess.
This communing thing can get a little weird, mostly because you just think
about what you want the non-troll to do and it normally does it, but humans are
complicated. Communing with Dave makes your body feel weird, and your mind feel
something a little bit like confidence...? You're not quite sure about that
one. What you do know is that you want to pleasure him. And you know that you
can do it, sans claws.
Slowly, you trail Dave's hand down his body and wrap it around his bulge, just
like you watched him do before. Translucent genetic material glistens against
his length and you watch as you slowly glide his hand over it again and again.
He could maybe use some help to go faster.
You reach his hand out, and bury his fingers in your nook. You let out a harsh,
clicking whine that you didn't even know you could make. Squelch squelch
squelch. His fingers slide in and out of your nook and your throat continues to
click in pleasure. Your eyes return to his expression and you frown, noticing
that his expression just mirrors your own. This is not quite the solution you
wanted. You try to cede some control to the boy, but just succeed in making him
look constipated.
His fingers slide out of your nook and you look down at his orange slime coated
hand with only a small twinge of embarrassment. You can feel your pulse soar as
he trails it down his bulge, around that fleshy sac, up against his dry nook,
and begins to pump again. You sigh and give him back control of his body, your
breath hitching as you watch his eyes roll back in a silent scream as he falls
into a more natural position.
==> Controlled Dave: Revel in the aforementioned actions
Your hand slides down your cock and you want more than anything to scream out
in pleasure. Never has masturbating felt this good. Even that time when you
stole some of Bro's lube, perused through a couple of porn sites, and beat off
while penetrating yourself with your finger, striking your prostrate over and
over again until you were numb from the pleasure, it didn't feel this good. No,
this was far more amazing.
The inability to change the pressure, the speed, the cadence, or even to pant,
to thrust, to scream, rather all of the pleasure just building up in your mind
as you can do nothing but feel the sensation made you feel on fire. Then he
buried your hand deep in his- what the fuck is that even- who cares. What
matters is the idea of him using you to get off, thrusting and whining as he
rode your hand, covering it in a fine film of fluid is almost too much to bear.
And then he made you smear it on your cock- holy fucking jesus.
==>Dave:Regain control
Pleasure spasms through your body and you are too far gone. Arching off the
floor, you just have to keep going. You continue to slide your hand up your
erection, barely thinking about the way you're panting at the amazing feel of
his lube on you. There is no give, nothing in the way, just your hand pumping
faster, faster, faster, down your length and-
Something hot and wet pokes at your anus and you let out a whine. Really? God
fucking dammit, calm down, Fido. Your eyes shoot down between your legs and you
meet his eyes. He looked happier than Mr. Rogers singing about his boner for
having neighbors, but in a way far more inappropriate than could ever be
conveyed by anyone in a sweater vest. His rough tongue pokes at your ass again
and your head snaps back as you stifle a moan in your throat. Your vision caves
as his tongue pushes into you and you realize that you're panting. His saliva
drips down your thighs, sending a shiver up your spine. His fingers wrap around
your ankles, pulling your feet over his shoulders, his tongue buried deep in
your ass.
Suddenly, you lose control of your body again and you wonder how much longer
you can last. His tongue thrusts into your ass and you pump your hand
agonizingly slow around your cock. Holy shit, you can feel it. This is it. Your
body begins tensing automatically and all you can feel are his hot tongue
burying itself deep in your asshole, his saliva dripping down to your cock,
your hand pumping away.
It's all too much and you shoot hot bursts of white cum down your favorite
shirt. He lets you slowly slide down his chest and you can barely feel your
body. He is looking down at you with concern. “what“ you pant, a little too
breathlessly.
“yOU'RE DONE, aLREADY,” He whispers in soft confusion.
You blink. What the fuck. Why would you still be going after he did all that to
you?
==> Dave: Somehow finish the Troll Energizer Bunny
He continues to look down at you with furrowed eyebrows. You attempt to move,
quickly realizing that post-orgasm bliss has you practically paralyzed. Your
senses slowly return to normal and you can make out the sound of your own
panting. It's official, dude, you're totally just a chick with a dick. Almost
like that guy, except with less to show for it. Way less. Even his tentasheath
wins the bigger dick prize. Not that you should beat yourself up for it, but,
hey, now you know, once you go gray, you're here to stay.
You use what energy you have to smirk weakly, the corners of your mouth
faltering like every firm on Wall Street when the market crashes to zero and
the apocalypse looms. You eye his junk once more, your mouth going dry as you
realize that you have to deal with that- however the fuck that ancient Chinese
finger puzzle works. You barely have enough energy left in you to thrust your
hips up, let alone do whatever freaky thing you need to do in order to get that
huge, throbbing tentadick to writhe back into its bony cock-shaped sheath.
Welp. You guess it's time to grab big, or go home.
You bring your hand up to get this freaky tentacle party started- Lalonde would
approve, for sure, you have to get her on this tentacle shit pronto- but it
falls right back into place as your body decides sssh only tingling bliss now
sssh.
“dAVE, aRE YOU OKAY,” Tavros whispers, his eyes wide and frantic. He leans over
you and pulls you into a tight embrace, crushing you against his lithe chest.
How'd he know you've been hankering for a hearty helpful of cotton shirt up
your nose since this whole sausage fest kicked off?
You gather all your energy to cling to him, but it feels almost like your arms
are asleep. You roll your eyes, biting your tongue to keep your comments to
yourself, tossing around a "way to fuck me till I can't even move, good job
soldier, you're the fucking sex god of the afterlife. it's you" in the back of
your head. You let your jaw go slack and close your eyes, reveling in the
fading sensation of ecstasy rushing out of your body, your nerves slowly
deciding that feeling things other than HOLY SHIT IT'S GO TIME is more than
alright with you.
“yeah dont get your tentacle in a knot man im just caught in the throes of
homolust following the best spooging of the century” You open your eyes,
looking up at his face. He's looking at you with a look of slight confusion,
his lips parted and looking so fucking moist that Cake Baronesses everywhere
should be scrambling to box up his secrets. Your eyes travel down his body and
notice that same orange fluid that sent you into this paralysis tizzy dripping
out of his entrance. “so youre pretty wet huh man” You lick your lips, control
slowly returning to your body. "do you make that shit every time"
"yEAH, i DO,"
“perfect” You mutter under your breath. Reaching out, you seize his dick and
smirk as he tightly clenches his eyes shut. The slick, pulsing tentacle wraps
tightly around your wrist as a blush spreads across his face. Tentatively, you
run a finger across one of the bumps and your throat goes dry. Those are going
to feel fucking amazing next time. You can't even find it in you to argue with
your thoughts. Of course you're doing this shit again, you swear to it; forever
and ever a-fucking-men.
A thought suddenly occurs to you and your pulse soars out of control. Now that
you have your wits back and are no longer blinded by the carnal need to shut
this boy up, you finally can enjoy your ability to steer this bull to the edge
of the rodeo ring and have him buck off into the crowds with wild abandon at
your whim.
...if that's what they do with bulls at rodeos. Who cares?
You voice drops to low and sultry, your teeth nipping at his ear once more.
"get up and bend over the sink" He pulls back and stares at you and you nod.
His tentacle uncurls from your wrist, leaving behind a coating of fluid.
You watch as his Adam's Apple-or Troll Adamat's Sweet Seed Growing on a certain
type of Leaf-bearing Shrubbery or whatever the fuck they call it- bob slowly up
and down as he gets up and complies. He stares at the sink momentarily before
pressing against it with the front of his hips and bending slightly at the
waist, his legs spread apart and his juices running down his thighs. The
tentacle writhes between his legs and you are floored by how huge that thing
is. You admire the bumps on the exterior with your eyes again and look up to
see that he is looking over his shoulder at you, expectantly. “iS THIS, oKAY,”
"yeah its a great view, just spread your legs a little farther apart bro." If
you had pants on, now would be a great time to jizz in them. Well, except that
you already came. You may be a teenager, but you're still human. Still, there
is no denying that your sex drive just jumped from zero to sixty in no fucking
time flat and you are ready to ravish that shit.
==>Dave: Grab the tentacle, be the Hentai Babe.
Standing, you bend over him, slightly annoyed at the few inches he has on you.
The boy's just bigger everywhere. Want your kids to start growing? Fuck the
hormones in beef. Injecting yourself with troll hormones is the real way to go.
Your hand slides between his thighs, seizing his writhing tentacle. Your heart
skips a beat as you feel a shudder rock his body. Pressing against him like
this, skin to skin, should have been how you were playing this game all along,
you decide. Next time, there would be no shirts, that's for fucking sure. The
tip of his cock caresses your wrist slowly and you wonder just how bad he wants
it right now. Maybe you could grab that plunger again and fuck him into the
counter with it, letting his dick dance up and down your forearm until he
couldn't take it any longer. How long would it take for him to demand you give
him a pail? How much could one troll even hold? You smirk and begin to pump
your hand slowly. He lets out a soft moan.
Wracked with indecision about how exactly to play yank the tentajunk, you perch
on the tips of your toes so that your lips barely reach his ears. “are you
going to teach me how to milk you or is this farmer going to lose all his
sexual frustration profit and have to shut down the sexin farm?”
“uHH, wHAT,” He stammers. Rightfully so, that metaphor got a little bit away
from you. You tighten your grip and he lets out a yelp. You hear a shuffling in
the hallway and know you're still out there, trying to apprehend yourself. The
only thing that could make this better is if that bastard was in here watching.
You guess you can keep up Radio Show XXX brought to you by dream doors and
listeners like you. You roll his tentacle in your hand and he lets out a soft
whimpering plea.
“i said tell me how this shit works so I can help you get your pail on,” You
feel him go stiff at pail and you wonder how far you can take talking dirty
about pails when you don't even quite know what they're for. You run your hand
up and down his length again, bringing your other hand up and sliding one
finger into his seed flap.
“aHH, yES, lIKE THAT,” He pants and you grin. You pump a little harder, your
fingers curling inside of him as he lets out another squeak of approval.
Whatever it is that you're fingerfucking right now feels amazing. You push
against his walls and he yelps. It's a little more shallow than you would have
anticipated it. It gets exponentially tighter the deeper you shove in your
fingers and your dick twitches in interest. Something that hot, tight, and wet?
You're signed up. Fuck, you run the mailing list, the fan club, and the
Official Borough for the Protection of Troll Male Pussy.
Suddenly, the mental image of him fucking himself resurfaces and heat coils in
your abdomen. “hey tav” Your voice sounds foreign to you, infused with far too
much lust to truly be your own, “hNNG,” he moans and you decide that's probably
the best you're going to get for an answer. “do you fuck yourself with this
huge dick often-” your hand slides a little faster up the length for emphasis
and he bites back a moan. “do you fill yourself up and really go to fucking
town on yourself”
“d, dAVE,” He moans in hushed plea and you wonder if it's a request to stop or
to keep going. He thrusts back into your hand and you know all systems are go.
"does it make you feel like a slut to bone yourself and moan with each bump
thrusting in and out of you?" You make a face when you say the word 'slut.' You
decide it's not really you. He whimpers again. “do you ever cum inside
yourself? see how full you can pump this tight fucking mess you are packing
back here?”
“w, wHAT,” He pants, his eyes focused intently on the porcelain beneath his
hands. It's official. You're completely out of bounds. You would say that you
need to hand over your position as THE LAW, but any good law enforcer knows
that you have to break that which you enforce sometimes. It's just a perk of
the position, along with donuts, free crack, and speeding through red lights.
"do you use yourself as a pail-” His head shoots up in alarm and he grazes his
horns against the mirror. Screeeeeeeeeeech
Your eyes twitch as his hand shoots up to rub the scratch he left behind. "uHH,
sHIT," He says aloud and it almost sounds like his voice is booming throughout
the bathroom. You hadn't noticed how quiet the two of you were being. That ends
now.
You grind your hips into his and he yelps, his eyes focusing once more on the
sink. You bury your fingers deeper and deeper inside of him, pumping his
tentacle quickly as the tip slaps against your wrist. “hNNG,” Yes, you are
feeling a million times better about this. “p, pAIL,” He pants wetly, the
distinct sound of slurping accompanying his request.
With fervor, you drive three fingers deep inside him and he whines something
that sounds distinctly like "pail" each time you thrust your fingers back in
again. You begin fisting his tentacle harder and he lets out a small whining
scream, "no way dude"
He shudders against you, his cock wrapping itself agitated about your wrist,
"p, pLEASE, dA, dAVE," He finally manages to squeak out.
You nip at his ear and he lets out a chirp. You smirk at the sound. "cum in my
hand." He whimpers and you can tell he's getting close from the way his
tentacle is coiling tighter and tighter around your wrist, threatening to cut
off circulation.
"aAH, dAVE," You pull your hand out of his seed flap and grab one of his horns,
pulling his head up. His eyes snap open and he looks at himself in the mirror,
clenching his eyes shut again, copper blush staining his cheeks.
“look at yourself when you cum” You hold fast to his horn and watch as his
glossy white eyes slide open reluctantly to study his expression in the mirror.
You drink it in yourself; the parted lips, the fine coating of sweat on his
forehead, the desperate furrow of his eyebrows. You can tell he wants to look
away, but the idea of him looking at himself is just making him hotter.
“hNNG, aAAAH,” A wave of hot cum pours out of the tip of his bulge and you jump
in surprise as a large load of cum hitting the cabinet under the sink with a
loud Thud. You smirk and continue pumping him as he studies his own O-face in
the mirror, a series of thud thud thuds greeting your ears as he cums against
the cabinets. And keeps coming against the cabinets. Aaaand...
You look down at the floor and grimace when you see the puddle of orange cum
forming at your feet. Nasty bro.
With a contented sigh and innumerable minutes of hard cumming, his tentacle
unravels from your wrist and he sinks to the floor, panting.
==>Dave: Survey the Mess at your Feet
Mess? What mess? You're pretty sure this bathroom has always been completely
squeaky clean. The only thing that might be considered a mess is your
bubblemate, sprawled out in post-orgasmic bliss on your bathroom floor. With a
sigh, you stand up and grab your shades, sliding them back up your nose. With a
thought, your clothes change to a clean pair. You turn to leave, stopping only
when a gray hand reaches out and limply tugs on the tail of your shirt.
"cOULD WE MAYBE, aGAIN," He struggles out between labored pants.
You turn and cock on eyebrow. This is going to be a long fucking afterlife and
you think you're pretty down with that.
Chapter End Notes
     Thanks for all your kudos and feedback! They mean a lot! This was a
     long PWP. Far longer than I anticipated. Haha. I hope you guys
     enjoyed it. It was my first homestuck fanfiction! Not to mention, my
     first smut from second person POV. I hope it was ok! It's a little
     surreal that I'm finished writing this...now I'm at a bit of a loss
     what to write next... hmm hmm
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