Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/317288.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck, MS_Paint_Adventures
  Relationship:
      Bro/Dave_Strider
  Character:
      Bro_(Homestuck), Dave_Strider
  Additional Tags:
      Incest, Drug_Use
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-01-10 Words: 1146
****** Murphy's Assfuck - AKA Dave's Bad Day ******
by Rimbaum
Summary
     Dave has a bad day and comes home to find Bro smoking a joint. Bro
     offers to share, makeouts ensue.
The day has been nothing but total shit. Fucktards at school decided to try and
take you on in a fight, and when you beat their asses ten ways to Sunday you
got suspended. Again. How exactly did they expect you to keep up with your
schoolwork when you're never allowed to go in to school? Because they still
expected it to get done, every single time.
And you've never taken the bus to school because what kind of loser did that?
You kind of wish today was one of those days you did, though, because fuck if
your city bus pass hadn't been left in your other coat pocket and a torrential
downpour looked imminent.
Sure enough, Murphy must have decided to assfuck you pretty hard because yeah,
torrential downpour, no umbrella, and fucking lightning. At least you wouldn't
have to deal with a rooftop strife when you got home to an apartment building
with a broken elevator. Top floor, thirty flights of squishy socks inside
squishy shoes, coming right up.
When you open up the door to the apartment, something's off. It smells like
smoke, and you bristle, getting ready to grab some of your shit and go, because
a fucking apartment fire from one of Bro's smuppets being left on top of the
stove would be just the way to end the day, wouldn't it? But after a moment,
you deduce that it's not fire smoke. It's something a bit different than that,
but still kind of rank.
"Bro?" You look towards the futon, spotting a familiar head of bright blond
hair and it helps you relax just a little. Whenever he takes his cap off, he's
trying to just chill out. No strife at all to worry about, then.
"Sup little man?" As you drop your soaking wet backpack on the floor and move
closer to the futon, you can see that the source of that weird smoky smell is
from a joint that Bro's got in his hand.
You've never seen Bro smoke weed before. And of course you know it's weed, what
else would it fucking be? It sure as hell isn't a cigarette or a cigar, and
you're pretty sure that Bro would need a pipe of some sort to be smoking crack.
But you don't want to draw attention to it, either. You don't know what your
brother might be like when he's high, and you'd rather stick to his good side.
"Got suspended from school again, then God took a piss on me on the walk home."
You can't help but keep eyeing the joint, though, curious as to how much better
it might make your day feel. You've stolen a cigarette or two, and the nicotine
rush was pretty sweet at calming your nerves, but weed wouldn't be the same,
would it?
Even with your shades on, Bro must know where your gaze keeps wandering,
because he smirks and offers you the joint. "Sucks, man. You wanna share?"
A "Fuck yes" slips past you before you even have a chance to think about it,
and you flop down on the futon and take the joint from your Bro. Holding it is
a bit different than a cigarette, but you inhale anyways. Right away, you're
grateful that you've at least had some smoking experience of some sort, because
that smoke is a bit different and it makes you want to cough, but you hold it
in for a few seconds before exhaling anyways.
Your brother takes a drag off it before passing it to you again, and you
concentrate on taking turns until a pleasantly warm, fuzzy feeling seems to
wrap itself around your brain. Like someone's replaced your brain with cotton
balls, almost.
Bro puts the joint out, and for a moment you wonder why before shrugging it
off. It's his weed, whatever. "Feeling better, bro?" His voice sounds rich and
warm, familiar and comforting and basically fucking beautiful.
"Yeah. I ever tell you how fucking beautiful you are?" And it's true - he's got
an awesome body from strifing with you so often, if he didn't wear a hat all
the fucking time he'd have nice soft hair that wasn't plastered to his head,
and his eyes... Fuck. Just as freaky as yours and you're certain that if he
whipped his shades off they'd be gorgeous, too.
He turns to look at you, ruffling your hair. "We're Striders, of course we're
beautiful. Good looks run in the family." Was that a compliment? You can't
tell. But you cuddle up against him because he's warm and you're soaked to the
bone and freezing cold.
"Gross, dude. Your clothes feel like the plaster shit to repair walls, take 'em
off."
It doesn't seem weird at all to strip down to your boxers, even though those
are pretty wet too, but at least he lets you cuddle up with him again and you
sit in warm, fuzzy silence. When he rubs your back and side, it's just to warm
you up, no big deal. You don't even complain when he pushes you down onto the
futon and straddles your hips, because looking up at him makes you realize how
gorgeous he really is, and making out with him seems like a really good idea.
His lips are really warm on yours, and even though your glasses clink at weird
angles, it's pretty damn nice. Not your first kiss, but definitely your best.
Of course it's your best, because Bro is the best at fucking everything.
Fucking. Everything. Yeah...
So what if he's reaching into your boxers, his hand's hot and it feels good to
buck your hips up into that heat, have it surround you and bring you so fucking
close you almost can't stand it, but then he pulls away and leaves you a
fucking wreck on the couch.
"Fuck. Bro. C'mon. Gimme more."
You see him striking a match and relighting the joint again to finish off the
rest. "Here. Keep smoking for a few minutes and I'll think about it, all
right?"
Still aching, you do as he says. It only takes a few passes between you before
he lets you cuddle up against him again, and even though you're not quite as
close when he inhales that smoke one last time, it's just as awesome to have
his hand on you again.
"Bro..." Fuck you sound like a porn star when you moan out his name like that.
At least, you hope you do. That's what gets him going, right? Whatever, it gets
him moving his hand faster, making every inch of your skin feel like it's on
fire until you're coming really damn hard.
You smile a little as you pile yourself into Bro's lap, curling up and letting
him wrap his arms around you. After all that, today didn't seem quite so bad.
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