Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1381957.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Bro/Dave_Strider
  Character:
      Bro_(Homestuck), Dave_Strider
  Additional Tags:
      Sibling_Incest, lots_and_lots_of_conflicted_emotions_and_self_hatred,
      Alternate_Universe_-_No_Sburb_Session, Hand_Jobs, Underage_Character,
      Angst, lots_and_lots_of_angst, Mentions_of_past_child_abuse
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-03-28 Updated: 2014-04-10 Chapters: 2/? Words: 7443
****** Falling Apart Was Never So Complicated ******
by shippingmyarmada
Summary
     You can't be what he wants you to be, no matter what. It doesn't
     matter if you want it too, you are his older brother and that is not
     the way things work. So you pretend that nothing has changed.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Your name is Bro Strider and mentally, you are falling apart. Physically, you
are hiding from your brother in the bathroom.
------5 months before------
For you, it had all started when you read on some shitty parenting website that
you should check your child's web history, and decided to check up on your
little bro's. You had no idea when it had started for Dave.
You logged onto Dave's computer, hacking it with ease, and opened a browser.
You went to the history button and clicked the most viewed option. Of course
you had expected there to be some porn sites, because what 16 year old boy
didn't watch porn, but what you didn't expect to find your porn site at the
number one spot.
You clicked the link, just to make sure that it was in fact the website you had
created all those years ago, when you were just a two years older than he was
now so you could make enough money to keep you and your kid brother alive after
you took him and ran away, and it was. The images and videos that popped up on
the screen were ones that were very familiar to you, considering they were of
you and you had done all the editing.
It was no secret to Dave that you were a pornstar, one simple search of 'Bro
Strider' in google lead to your smuppet site and porn site. You made no effort
to hide it, because of course he would search you at some point, probably
wondering how you made so much money by only DJing on the weekends. But you had
always figured he would find it and be disgusted, because most brothers
wouldn't want to see their guardian in that way. You had never thought that it
would be the most viewed site on his browser history.
An image of Dave watching the videos and pleasuring himself popped into your
mind without your permission and you felt your pants get a little uncomfortable
at the thought of his face flushed and his hand moving quickly in his pants as
he watched you. Immediately you blocked the image and shoved it down, as far
down as you could. Dave was just curious. You couldn't take advantage of that.
Brothers weren't supposed to feel that way about each other anyway, it was
disgusting and wrong and immoral, so you got rid of those thoughts. You
wouldn't do to Dave what your father had done to you. You could never, ever
hurt him. You were a shitty guardian, but you weren't that kind of shitty.
You closed the browser and shut down his computer, making sure everything was
the way it was before. You didn't want to let him know what you had found out.
You decided that you had to go with life as usual, be the same douchebag you
always were, because he would know something was up if you changed your stoic
figure in anyway, just like you had taught him. You taught him to coat himself
in irony and a facade of uncaring like you did, so he would never get hurt. You
were the asshole you were to prepare him, because he was the only person you
cared about.
-----4 months before-----
When you woke up one morning after a dream about you and Dave doing things
brothers didn't normally do with a hard on for the seventeenth time that month,
you decided that the cold showers didn't work as well as jacking off, so you
turned the shower on to a warm temperature and finally gave in to your basic
desire.
You were facing the door, slowly pumping your member, when you saw the door
knob jiggle. You knew you had locked it, but the door swung open just a crack.
Dave was watching you. You froze momentarily. After a second you decided that
you couldn't let him know you had found him out, that would be awkward, so you
just acted like you didn't notice and continued with what you were doing.
You also found out that the fact that Dave was watching you and probably doing
the same to himself turned you on a lot more than you would ever care to admit.
Your hand sped up and you braced yourself on the shower wall. The cold tiles
were a nice contrast to the steamy water the was pouring on your back. You made
sure to position yourself so Dave would have a good view. That was another
thing you'd never admit. It was too sick.
You imagined Dave kneeling in front of you his perfect pink lips stretched
around your dick as you thrusted instead of your hand. You imagined his red
eyes staring up at you and you squeezed your own shut. God you wanted it to be
real. You leaned your head forward and pressed your forehead on the cold tiles.
You imagined thrusting into his hot wet mouth and came, hard against the wall,
with a small groan in the back of your throat.
You stayed there for a second then washed everything away, and watched the door
close and relock. You felt sick to your stomach
-----3 months before-----
He was seducing you and you knew it. You knew he knew you knew what he was
doing, but he didn't stop.
You kept up your stony appearance as always, not letting him know the turmoil
you were actually going through. You didn't show that the lingering touches and
slightly inappropriate hand placements or the obvious times he was checking you
out actually sent you reeling inside. No, you were Bro Strider, irony master
who didn't show any emotion. Most of the time.
You made it clear that nothing he did could ever get to you, because what Dave
was doing was wrong. The dreams that had plagued you since you found his
browser history were wrong. So, so wrong and disgusting and you shouldn't be
his guardian, but you couldn't possibly let him go into the system and you
couldn't possibly part with him, so you acted normal and told yourself the
feelings would pass. That they wouldn't be permanent and that Dave would get
over you soon and find someone more appropriate and better for him, someone
less broken and fucked up than you.
Dave should not have been sitting so close to you on the couch. His leg
shouldn't be pressed against yours like that. His pinky shouldn't have been
tracing lines on your thigh.
But most of all you should not have been enjoying it.
He had to know it was wrong, right?
Dave's hand crept over so it was fully on you knee. You kept your face
expressionless as his hand slowly scooted up your leg, his fingertips massaging
your inner thigh and sending jolts straight to your cock. You felt your dick
twitch to life as his hand got higher and you hated yourself for what you were
imagining. You hated yourself for wanting to fuck him so hard he couldn't walk
for days.
His hand was on your mid thigh by then, and you decided that two could play
that game. Maybe once you touched him he would realize that that was wrong. You
knew he wouldn't but your fingers were itching to touch him, so you did.
Carefully at first, just your large hand covering his knee, then slowly you
crept up, the same way he had.
Neither of you looked at each other. You both stared straight ahead at mind
numbing show that was on tv, not daring to look at one another.
By the time your hand was at the middle of his thigh, his was dangerously close
to your dick. You chanced a peek at him, moving just your eyes behind your
glasses so he wouldn't notice. He was breathing hard and his face was flushed,
he was sporting a raging boner and the hand that wasn't on you was twitching as
he strained to not touch his erection. He was hot. He was so fucking hot and
you wanted to see him like that under you. You tore your eyes away.
Dave's hand on your dick dragged you from your little fantasy. His hand was
palming you through your jeans, and it felt amazing, but you couldn't. You
sprang from the couch and looked at him, actually looked at him. You saw the
confusion and hurt written along his features, the way he was curling into
himself and you hated yourself again. You hated how you couldn't just do what
he wanted, because you were his guardian and you had to look into the future
and you hated hurting him but the two of you couldn't have this relationship.
If you did what he wanted he would never have a normal relationship again. He
was probably still a virgin and you did not want him to lose his virginity to
his big brother. That would haunt him for the rest of his life. Dave could have
normal relationships even if you couldn't. Hurting him a little now would save
him from more pain in the future.
"We can't fucking do this." You said as sternly as you could.
"Why the fuck not?" Came his reply, "I want it and you fucking want it,
so why not?" He pushed his glasses farther up his nose in what you knew was a
defense mechanism.
"Well one, you're my lil bro." You decided to give him a straight answer, no
layers of irony to sort through. "You're not even legal. You're probably a
virgin." He huffed at that, proving that you were right, "Its fucked up. I
can't fuck you up like that."
He glared at you. "I don't care if it's fucked up. I love you, Bro. More than I
fucking should. I just want you. In every way. What's so different about me?
You fuck people all the time. Why won't you let me make you feel good? I
fucking love you." He was crying now. His voice was quivering just a little and
a few tears were running down his face and he was fighting not to show so much
emotion. He had been feeling this way for longer than you had originally
thought.
He was still cute and you hated yourself for thinking that.
Before you could stop yourself you were leaning over him, one hand bracing
yourself on the back of the couch, the other on his face, thumbing away the
tears. "What are you doing to me Dave Strider?" you breathed, allowing yourself
just this once to give in. You gently pressed your lips against his and he was
too stunned to kiss back. It was over all too soon, and you had to pull away
before he tried to make it more, so you did. "You'll get over me little man.
I'm not all that much." Was all you said before flash stepping from the room.
From your room you heard a sob but you couldn't go back out. He had to work
through it on his own. Your presence would make it worse.
You shoved the smuppets out of the way and flopped down on your bed. You
removed your shades and rubbed your eyes, groaning. The same mental battle that
had been repeating itself for two months was back, worse then ever. You wanted
him more than anyone you had ever met, but it was wrong. You would be taking
advantage of him.
You couldn't do it, no matter how much you and him both wanted it.
------2 months before------
The stress was getting to you. You couldn't sleep anymore because when you did
you dreamed of him. You could hardly eat because every time you joined him for
meals (which had gone from every meal to hardly one a day), you saw his face
and the way his lips closed around his fork or spoon and you wanted to throw
the utensil from his hands and kiss him; and every time that feeling coursed
through you, your stomach churned violently. You couldn't focus on your porn
because you knew he'd be watching the videos. You couldn't focus on your
smuppets because you would find your mind wandering to Dave and end up jabbing
needles into your fingers. You couldn't drive him to school on mornings you
were able to anymore because you would stare at him in the mirrors until you
almost crashed. You could hardly make it out of bed in the morning because of
the stress and the self-hate dragging you down.
You felt like absolute shit.
You were absolute shit.
So you did what anyone else would do. You got hammered.
You tried to drink away the pain and the guilt and the self-hatred, but you
always ended up forgetting your own name before you forgot his and the way he
made you feel. Even when you drank yourself to a stupor you remembered the
curve of his lips and the curve of his ass and the shocks that went through you
when he oh so casually brushed his hands in places they shouldn't be. Through
the buzz and haze of vodka and rum you remembered how sick you were for loving
him the way you did.
So when the alcohol didn't work you took up drugs.
It started with just marijuana, but the haze of smoke that filled your lungs
may have made you happy, but it didn't make you forget. The nights always ended
with happy daydreaming of a different world where you and Dave weren't brothers
and more self-hatred. You were drowning without any water.
Then you started more hardcore drugs, like acid and cocaine, but your
hallucinations were always of him spinning on the turntables you got him two
years ago for Christmas and the way he moved in your imagination was
intoxicating. No matter how high you got, the person you were fucking at the
end of the long nights of clubbing and DJing always turned into Dave in your
mind.
You took up more DJing gigs to avoid the tension that was always present when
you were around Dave. You distanced yourself from him and it constantly felt
like both your brain and heart were being torn apart.
------2 weeks before------
You and Dave had been avoiding each other. In the few moments you were together
the tension, both sexual and not, was so great you could hardly stand it. Of
course you acted like it didn't phase you, but you hated how separated you were
becoming from Dave. He was your lifeline. He needed you to be there for him, so
you always had been.
You were destroying yourself and you couldn't care less. You just wanted to
forget the self loathing that came after waking up from dreams of you and Dave
together with a raging boner. You wanted to forget the past few months. You
just wanted it to go back to being bros and strifing on the roof without sexual
tension making you slip up, without your hand shaking while pouring cereal in
the morning and thoughts of how you looked to him. You hated it and you hated
yourself. He was your goddamn little brother. It was wrong.
You knocked on Dave's door and called out, "I'm going out for a while."
The door swung open fast, the door handle slammed into the wall and Dave stood
there, glaring at you in the door way. He swung a fist at you but you caught
it, holding his fist gently so as not to hurt his hand. He in turn swung the
other one, which you caught as well, at your face. Angry tears were streaming
down his face and he was screaming at you.
"Off to go get high and fuck random strangers again? Right?" He screamed, his
voice cracking, "You're destroying yourself Bro! You're killing yourself and
it's killing me! I can't fucking stand what you're doing to yourself. Its all
my fucking fault! Why can't I just be normal?" He tore his hands from yours and
flung them around you, screaming sobs into your chest. You held onto him and
swore you would stop, if this was hurting him so bad. You kept your feelings
masked as he pulled away from your chest.
He roughly grabbed your face and pulled it down to his level, smashing his
mouth on yours. Your teeth knocked clumsily. His tongue fought to get into your
mouth. You pulled away from him and the tears were back. His nails dug into
your cheeks where he was holding them, his hands shaking and his sobs loud. He
was clearly beating himself up inside as much as you were, but he couldn't mask
it like you could.
"I fucking love you Bro. You're all I've got." His voice shook and he let go of
your face, crumbling in on himself against the wall. He hugged his knees to his
chest as his body wracked with sobs. He was in so much pain and you couldn't
stop it. You stood there helplessly for a second before bending down and
scooping him up like you did when he was little. He struggled to get out of
your grip, screaming about how he hated you and how he hated himself and you
just held tighter as he kicked you.
You sat on his bed with him in your lap, refusing to let go. Slowly he calmed
down until his sobs were just hiccups and he was telling you that you were
squishing him. You didn't loosen your grip. He told you he loved you and he
kissed you and you kissed back, enjoying every second of it and hating yourself
for enjoying it.
His hands were squirming up your shirt and you pulled them back out, because
no, no matter how much you wanted it you couldn't. He was crying again and
kissing you and you had to pull him away and push him so he was lying down. His
watery eyes brightened up (his shades long abandoned and forgotten on his part,
yours still firmly in place) when your hand was on his chest, holding him down,
for all the wrong reasons.
"Dave, no." You told him as his shaky hands scrabbled at you shirt. "Dave.
Stop. We can't. No. Just... Go to sleep."
"Stay with me. Please. Please. Just sleep. Please." he begged, and you
complied. You climbed into bed with him and he clung to you like you were his
survival. He fell asleep fast as you rubbed his back, emotionally drained from
everything that had happened. You waited until you could see him go into REM
sleep before you left for your own bed.
You didn't sleep that night, you just tossed and turned and thought.
-----1 hour before-----
You decided that you needed to strife some of the tension away, so now you and
Dave were circling each other on the roof. You were wearing identical
emotionless expressions and you couldn't help but be proud of him. You jumped
forward and slashed at him with your katana and he easily blocked it, pushing
you back. You Flash stepped around him and he blocked your next swing. You
swung again and he blocked, but you were pushing him towards a wall. He refused
to swing back, he was just defending.
Half an hour later you were soaked in sweat but you had him pinned against the
wall, your shitty cosplay sword pressed lightly on his throat. He was just
smirking, his sword abandoned where you had knocked it out of his hands a few
feet away. You were both breathing heavily.
Dave grabbed your shirt and pulled you down, crashing your lips onto his. You
pulled back but he kept you there, his grip stronger than you were expecting
and to be honest you weren't really trying that hard to get away. You threw the
katana away from him and it clattered across the roof.
Something came over you and you decided that just one time, just this once, you
would allow it. Maybe afterwards he would have gotten his fill of Bro and he
wouldn't love you like that anymore. You knew the thought wasn't rational but
you needed something to justify why you were moving your hips with his when he
pushed against you.
You ground into him and pushed him against the wall. Animalistic urges came
over you and you pulled away from his lips to nip and suck on his perfect neck.
A moan tore trough his throat and vibrated under your lips.
He pulled you by your hair back to his lips. You devoured his sweet pink lips
and pushed the voice that was telling you to stop away, locking it away in your
mind so you could no longer hear it. You pushed your knee in between his legs
and rubbed it hard against his erection, the motions eliciting another moan
from Dave. His hand wandered up your shirt and this time, you didn't stop him.
One of his hands found it's way to the bulge in your own pants and you felt the
smirk on his lips. He palmed you through your jeans and it felt amazing.
Dave tried to undo your pants but you grabbed his wrists and spun him around.
Your hips gyrated against his plump ass and a small noise of pleasure
accidentally escaped from your throat. He caught on and brought his hands down
to grip your rear and he moved his ass against you like he was a stripper and
you were a rich costumer paying for a lap dance. It was one of the best things
you had ever felt.
You bucked your hips in perfect sync with him and quickly undid his jeans. You
pushed them down just enough to free his boner and gripped it firmly, not tight
enough for it to hurt, but not loose either. He moaned. You pumped his shaft,
slowly at first and his grip tightened on your ass.
You realized that this was probably the first time anyone other than himself
had touched his cock and it made you both nauseous and more turned on. You
pushed away that thought too.
He was a moaning mess as you brushed your rough thumb over his sensitive tip
and sucked on his neck. You pumped and twisted your hand as you dry humped his
ass, and he kept grinding into you. Your hand sped up and he just moaned
louder.
He came into your hand with a shout.
After a few more pumps he was finished and he swirled around in your arms. His
face was flushed and his shades had slid down far enough for you to see the
lust coating his half lidded eyes. His hand was palming you through your jeans
again.
Realization of what you had just done crashed around you, bringing your entire
world with it. You tried to step away from him but he held on tight.
"You're not done yet Bro. You can't go anywhere." He breathed, his hand
slipping down your pants.
You pushed him off of you roughly and he stumbled backwards with a shout of
"What the fuck?" and you flash stepped back to the apartment and locked
yourself in the bathroom.
It took you almost no time to get your rock hard dick out and start pumping. It
didn't take very long for you to cum with the memory of what had just happened
fresh in your mind.
It was okay (kind of) for you to get him off, but in no way could you let him
get you off.
Your name is Bro Strider and mentally, you are falling apart. Physically, you
are hiding from your brother in the bathroom.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
He was knocking on the door, but you didn't move. You didn't want to see him,
talk to him, even be in the same apartment as him after what you had done. So
you put down the lid of the toilet and sit, bent over, with your head almost
between your knees. This can't be happening. You have ruined the one of the few
things that mattered to you, your relationship with your brother.
But lets be serious now, you had ruined that about five months ago.
The knocking stops and you hear his back hit the door and slide down, scraping
against the hard wood. The door jiggles in it's frame as his head smacks it.
You can't breathe.
After a few seconds of pained silence, you slide from the toilet and crawl to
the door, thanking god no one can see you now. You lean hard on the door,
knocking your head against it like he did, trig to tell him that you're there.
You can hear soft, muffled sobs coming from the other side, and it felt like
your heart was trying to claw itself out of your chest. You don't even notice
that you're crying until the silent tears are making puddles on your hands.
You haven't cried in years, not since you left that house with your six year
old kid of a brother. You wonder if what your father did to you made you feel
this way about Dave. If you love him this way because he is the only one you
trust, the only one who has been with you through everything, who needs you
just as you need him. You wonder if he remembers your parents, if he knows that
they aren't dead like you tell him, if he knows how they broke you, shattered
you into a million pieces that you couldn't fit together the right.
You know that you can never touch him again.
You hope that you'll stick to that rule.
He knocks on the door again, so faintly you aren't sure that it actually
happened until he speaks.
"Bro," He murmurs, so lightly you have to strain your ears to hear the next
part, "Let me in."
You wipe all the tears from your face and take off your shades, placing them
gently next to you on the floor. One deep breath and a few seconds later, you
hesitantly unlock the door and move so that if he wanted to get in it would be
possible. There is a loud sob and the door flings open, hitting you hard on
your side, bouncing back and hitting Dave as well.
You tried to stop the tears from pouring down your face, but when you looked at
him, you couldn't.
Your bones feel like they are on fire, and Dave feels like a fireman with an
extinguisher. All you want is to do whats right and get away from him, but the
urge to hold him is too strong.
He's on top of you so fast you feel like you should congratulate him. But you
don't. You hold onto him as tight as he holds onto you, probably tighter. His
pain radiates from him and bounces back into you, making you want to tear your
heart from where it lies in your chest.
You can feel a wet spot spreading on your shoulder from his tears and snot, but
you don't care. This is more emotion in one tiny room than you have ever
experienced.
He's muttering things into your shoulder that you can't understand, so you take
a few deep, shuddering breaths and ask him. "What are you saying, Dave? Speak
up." You murmur into his hair softly, trying as hard as you can to keep your
voice from shaking.
He moves his arms around your neck and his fingers are toying with the short
hairs on the nape of your neck. "Why can't we?" His voices catches in his
clogged throat, breaking, "Nobody has to know... Just us. I love you."
This time, it's you who starts the kiss. It's light, so light you can hardly
feel it, but he latches on, pressing forward. He's pawing at you, trying to
bring you closer to him. You can feel yourself melting, but you keep it in
check, knowing that this won't last, that it can't last. Gently, you bring your
hand up to his face, your fingers featherlight as they brush away his tears.
He let's out a violent sob when you touch his cheek, and you pull away
immediately. "I'm sorry." He's crying again, "I'm sorry, Bro. So, so, sorry."
Dave nuzzles his face into your neck, hugging you tighter.
"What are you sorry for?" You ask while rubbing his back like a child. The
motions make your stomach churn, reminding you of the fact that you practically
raised this kid. The kid you just did unspeakable things to. You don't want to
think about it.
"Making you do this." Dave says, shaking so hard you feel like you need to hold
him tighter.
You don't say anything. You have absolutely no clue how to comfort him. All you
want to do is yell about how you want this, you want this so, so, so badly, but
you just can't. You are supposed to protect Dave from guys like you. Protect
him from messed up twenty-seven year olds who want him and his perfect little
body, because /god, he's only sixteen/.
You feel so disgusting. You want to run, run like you always do. Run like you
did all those years ago. Run like you did earlier today. But you know that this
will just follow you forever. He's your brother. He's probably the only person
you actually give a shit about. You need to do something about this situation.
You need to explain that this is wrong and even if it wasn't he could do so, so
much better than you.
You open your mouth to tell him this, but he pushes his hand against your
mouth.
"No, stop." He pleads, tears springing back to his perfect crimson eyes. You
can see how hard he's fighting to keep his voice from shaking as he talks. "I
don't care. I don't fucking care, Bro. I don't care if it's wrong and fucked
up. I just... Love you. So, so much, Bro." His voice disintegrates into hardly
a whispe and he drops the hand from your mouth. His nails are gripping you
shoulders through your shirt so hard that you are almost positive that you're
bleeding.
"Dave..." You try to stay cool and collected but you threw that card out the
window so long ago that you find the idea of bringing back your demeanor now so
ridiculous you have to fight back a laugh.
"Do you love me back?" He asks softly, the words barely registering in your
mind.
You sigh, deep and dramatic because you are an asshole and you need to get Dave
to realize that. "That's beside the point." You tell him firmly, as sternly as
you can while he's in your lap on the unforgiving tiles of the bathroom floor.
"So you do." He says, his voice cracking just a fraction and his face
brightening up so much you can't resist telling him the truth.
"Yeah, I guess. But this is wrong. And illegal."
Dave doesn't listen. He smashes his lips against yours fiercely, teeth knocking
and noses bumping. You fix the kiss gently, righting it out so Dave fits
perfectly against you. He wraps his arms around your neck, kissing with a
sloppy fervor that sends you reeling. But you reel in a good way.
You start to dominate the kiss a little, fixing his form and deepening it. You
accidentally pour everything you've been feeling for the past few months into
this one kiss. Cue mental slap.
Why the fuck are you trying to impress Dave so much? It's not like he's had
nearly as much experience as you have.
You gently take his bottom lip in your teeth and he lets out a soft, breathy
moan. That moan is what causes you to stop caring that what you're doing is
wrong and that you're definitely going to a hell you don't believe in. All you
care about is getting him to moan more. You kiss down his neck, sucking and
nibbling softly. He can just wear a turtleneck tomorrow. You don't care as you
leave a bruise that you know you'll hate in the morning.
Soon he's moaning like a pornstar and grinding down on your hips. You're pretty
surprised that just making out is getting so worked up, and even more surprised
at how worked up you yourself are getting. There has been way too much sexual
tension between you two.
You gently thrust your hips up, wanting friction but not wanting to be needy.
He jumps a little and pulls away from you. He stares straight into your eyes,
his own wide with what appears to be shock. Dave glances down at the bulge in
your tight jeans like he's never seen one before. Then he stares back up at
you, his perfect lips parted ever so slightly. You roll your hips again.
The look on his face terrifies you. You don't know if he's happy or about to
cry, but then he places a soft hand on your clothed dick. "For me?" He asks,
like a child receiving a present. You hate the simile you just thought of and
push it away.
You sigh softly as he runs his fingers over your erection. "Ain't nobody else
here." You reply, wishing he would touch you, actually touch you, not this
tickley shit he's doing right now. You keep your mouth shut though. You've
wanted this for so long that now that you let yourself say yes to him, you
never want him to stop.
Finally, he fishes your dick from your pants and starts stoking it, hesitantly
and barely there. You rock your hips to encourage him, the heavy weight of your
cock shifting in his hands.
After a little while of this, you speak up, "Lube." You tell him, "Cabinet."
Dave nods and scrambles off you, practically flinging himself at the cabinet.
In his frantic search he knocks about half of the other products from the
cabinet, sending them cascading down around him, before he finally finds the
lube. He slides back onto your lap, awkwardly rubbing his hard on against your
leg in a search for friction.
"Dick out." You order softly, and his hands fly at about a million miles an
hour to get out his dick. When he gets it out, you gently stroke it to full
hardness. He moans loudly at the simple touches.
You pull him forward with a hand on his ass, pressing your dicks together. You
coat them with lube then discard the bottle. You grip them with one hand and
pull one of his to join you before starting up a steady pace of stroking.
You watch Dave the entire time, just watch him, because God, he is so perfect.
His bright pink flush spreads down his neck and disappears under the collar of
his shirt, his lips are parted and he is panting hard. His hair is messed up,
sticking out at odd ends and peaks. His face is still tracked with tear stains,
glistening in the harsh light. But his eyes, God, his eyes are dark and dazed
and blissful, staring back at you through lashes still wet and clumped with
tears.
He's moaning softly, barely audible, but you think it's the best sound you've
ever heard. You pump faster, harder, trying it entice out moans louder than
what he's giving you. You want to, scratch that, /need to/ hear his voice
telling you that he's enjoying this. Convincing you that it's okay, even as
every bone in your body screams /wrong, wrong, wrong/. You can't breathe in
without smelling Dave, can't look without seeing him, can't reach out and touch
without your hands landing on him.
Everything ends in a loud haze of pleasure and panting, sticky cum on your
shirt and a faint, painful throb in your chest. Who knew sex could make you
feel so horrendous but amazing at the same time? You sure didn't.
He collapses down onto you, gripping your polo and murmuring soft "I love you"s
into your chest. You hold him, face nestled in his blonde hair and and fists in
his t-shirt. Out the bathroom window, you watch the sun set in hues of orange
pierced by violent streaks of crimson. You don't tell him you love him back.
When the sun has disappeared and left only fading memories of its presence, you
shuffle him on your lap and pull up your pants, shoving your flaccid dick back
into its place. He copies you. You try and stand up, hoping he'll copy that as
well, but he clings to you like his life depends on it. You carry him to his
room and set him down on his bed, then strip him of everything but his boxers.
Dave just watches you with confusion painted on his pretty face. When you move
to his dresser to look for clean boxers, he jumps into action and scrambles
from his bed with a harsh shriek of "No!"
But by the time he gets to you, it's already too late. You've seen what you
weren't supposed to. You pull out the pair of orange boxers that are dirty and
too big for him. It takes less that a second for you to recognize them as the
ones you thought you had lost, and even less to see the terror in his eyes.
You drop the boxers back into the drawer like it doesn't phase you, just so
that he feels less embarrassed. Even you're not a big enough jerk to poke fun
at him while he's this vulnerable. You rummage around and find a clean pair of
his boxers and toss them to him. He gets the gist and replaces the ones he's
wearing. You turn to leave, to go back to your room and do some thinking, but
his hand, tight on our forearm, stops you.
"Stay." He wimpers, "Please, Bro, stay."
He sounds so pathetic that you have to. Besides, you need to talk to him
anyway. Now is your chance to stop running away from conversations you don't
want to have. You have to learn that strafing sessions on the roof only fix
small spats, not whatever mess the two of you got just yourselves into.
You flip off the lights and strip down to your boxers. You prefer to sleep
naked, but there's no way you're gonna do that with Dave next to you. You slide
into the bed, facing away from Dave.
"You actually did it." He observes, voice stone cold in the dark, and you know
he's trying to act cool to make up for all the emotions earlier. You know it
embarrassed him. It embarrassed you, too. His hands are warm on your side,
trying to slip to your stomach and feel more skin. You can feel his hot puffs
of breath on your neck.
You roll to face him, searching for his bright eyes in to black, relieved when
the dark shadows conceal the glowing red. It'll be easier, you hope, to have
this conversation without seeing his eyes. Like you, when his eyes are exposed,
everyone can read what Dave is feeling. You take a breath, knowing his nose is
barely an inch from yours. You have the overwhelming desire to kiss him, but
you don't.
"We need to talk." You reach out and place your hand on his taut stomach,
connecting yourself to him instead of the distancing that you are so used to.
He tenses under your touch, hesitantly putting his own hand on your stomach, in
the same spot that your hand is on his.
"We are talking." He retorts, his voice barbed and shrunken. His hands betray
him, spreading out on your bare skin, trying to feel more.
"You know what I mean."
He groans and curls up, nudging your hand away and pulling his own back to fold
up on his chest. "It's not like we have any family to disown us or turn us in."
You flinch, so tiny you're not even sure Dave notices it, and turn away from
him. You hate talking about your parents. You hate just remembering them.
Dave reaches out to you again, the pads of his fingertips ghosting over the
skin of your back. "Why don't you ever talk about them?"
You turn back and pull him against you, his face in your chest, but you don't
answer. You had always been glad he had stopped asking about them and why you
left. You didn't have the heart to tell a kid what you went though back then.
You change the subject back to the pressing matter and he doesn't object.
"What do you want me to do?" You ask the shadows on the wall.
"Be with me." Dave replies, muffled by your skin.
"Why?"
"Because I love you." He says with so much confidence that you almost stop
doubting it for a second.
"No, you don't." You know the only reason this is happening is because you
weren't a proper guardian.
He pushes away from you and sits up fast, his body rigid with anger. You can
practically feel his glare through the dark. Dave then pulls you up as well,
smashing his lips against yours, kissing you angrily. You kiss back,
dominating, but gentle. He bites your lip so hard you can taste blood, then
pushes you away. You don't take any offence by these actions, you know he has
so much pent up anger and no way to let it out. It is your fault, anyway.
"Why don't you believe me?" Dave demands, gripping your arms so tight his short
nails bite into your skin and draw flecks of blood. All you can see of him is
his quivering silhouette.
"Because you don't know what love is." It is a hypocritical thing for you to
say, considering you don't know either, but he doesn't have to know that.
He catches your hypocrisy though, pulling you forward and knocking
his forehead against yours. "And you do?"
You kiss him in response, harsh and pressing deep into his mouth. When he moans
you pull away. He growls, predatory and demanding. You don't know how to
respond. You let your body take over and pull him down on your chest as you
fall back down into a lying position. He kisses you first but you dominate it,
rolling him over and pressing your hard chest into his. His hands are all over
your body and you return his favor, heavy petting his chest. When he bucks his
hips you pull away, panting hard. His breath is hot on your face.
You roll away and groan. "What the fuck, Dave? What are you doing to me?" You
ask, not expecting an answer.
"So you do feel something for me too." He states the obvious facts.
"I wouldn't be mackin' on you if I didn't little man."
You can practically hear the shit eating grin in his voice. "Let's try it
then."
"Try what, exactly?"
He lets out an over-done exasperated sigh, "Fucking. Boyfriends. Brothers with
benefits. I don't care. As long as I get you."
"Sounding a little possessive there Dave." You smirk even though he can't see
your face.
He crawls on top of you, acting like a little kid again and making your stomach
roll with disgust for yourself. "So what?"
"Fine."
He kisses you, and you let your body form into the perfect mold that is the
spaces of him. He's smiling so hard you can barely kiss him. You aren't so sure
about your decision, but he seems so happy for the first time in a long time
that you don't say anything about it. You just try and kiss his stupid smiling
face.
"Thank you." He breathes, planting kisses all over your face. When he tries to
come back to your lips, you push him off of you, rolling your eyes.
"Go to bed."
He whines at the statement, but you turn your back to him. He gets the message
and curls into a ball. You hear his breathing fall into an even pace and mere
minutes later Dave is completely asleep.
You yourself eventually fall asleep with thoughts about how you royally fucked
up that conversation and how it did not go the way it was supposed to.
Chapter End Notes
     Well there will probably be more to this story but idk when it'll
     happen.
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