Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/379108.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Jake_English/Dirk_Strider
  Character:
      Jake_English, Dave_Strider, Dirk_Strider
  Additional Tags:
      Testicle_play, Anal_Sex, Fingerfucking, Established_Relationship, First
      Time, Fluff, Oral_Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-04-09 Words: 10082
****** Never Been Happier ******
by PeriPeriwinkle
Summary
     Your name is Jake English, and right now, you’re completely sure
     you’ve never been happier in your entire life.
Notes
     This is my half of an art trade I did with antemrd! They requested
     Jake/Dirk!
     I hope you like it! :>
You two have known each other through the internet for almost seven years now.
You met when you were both twelve, through a forum chat where a deep, fervent
discussion of the movie “Spirit” was happening, and you were completely stunned
about the way a boy who called himself Timateus Testified carried on with his
arguments. He seemed to have an overbearing love for horses, judging from the
way he talked about Spirit, complementing the animation in the movie and
criticizing a thing here and there, sometimes arguing that “a horse would never
do that”. He made you laugh. Truly, you’re not one for animations much; you’re
an action movie lover yourself. But the way Timateus talked about Spirit made
you smile whenever you saw him post something new.
You sent him a private message, asking him for his chumhandle, and that’s when
it all began.
You two hit rather quickly, and upon discovering that you were not weirded out
by his deep passion for horses, he took an instant fondness to you.
Now, nearly seven years later, you find yourself in the airport of his
hometown. You’re sweating – profusely – because not only you’re about to see
Dirk face-to-face, you’re also going to meet David Strider, movie producer,
extravagant millionaire of the century. You step out of the rather fancy
private jet they sent to pick you up, struggling with your large handheld bag
as you make it down the stairs. The pilot helps you by holding it for you – you
briefly thank him –, and when you step firmly onto solid ground (letting out a
soft sight of relief), the pilot informs you he’s going to pick up the rest of
your luggage. You nod and look forward, taking in your surroundings, and your
heart skips a beat; there’s a brand new black Rolls-Royce parked on the
touching down lane at least fifteen meters away from you, and before it, stands
Dirk and his older brother, Dave, identical blonde hairs shimmering beneath the
midday sun and flowing gracefully with the strong wind of the airport.
You stop breathing.
You were excited about meeting Dave, sure, but right now, he’s invisible to
you, because your best friend, the boy with whom you’ve had so many video chats
before, is actually standing near you. His pointy, anime shades glisten with
the sunlight, and you let a wide as it can get smile grace your face. And,
shockingly enough, he smiles back.
You’ve never seen Dirk smile like that. Ever.
Completely forgetting about your luggage, you dart towards him, decided into
closing the huge gap between you two as fast as you can muster. He starts
running too – much, much faster than you do –, and you’re laughing, laughing,
and both of you collide midway, bodies shocking against each other rather
painfully, but you don’t care, you don’t even mind the pain, because he’s here,
Dirk is here, you’ve finally met like you promised you would, exactly the way
you promised, and when Dirk says “yes, yes, English, I’m actually here”, you
realize that you’ve been saying all that out loud, right into his ear, giggling
all the while. He sniffs and wipes his wet eye on your shoulder.
“It’s so fucking great to see you, Jake.”
“You too, mate.” You answer, allowing yourself to cry as well. “You too.”
During that heart-touching moment, you think to yourself that you have never
been happier before in your entire life.
---
The next six months are blissful heaven.
Dirk’s brother – you’re still not used to calling him Dave, it’s so weird! –
asked you to live with him and Dirk, a request that you promptly accepted. You
two started college a while later – completely paid by Dave, what a wonderful
soul, that man –, majoring in archeology, while Dirk decided to follow the path
of robotic engineering. You meet in the hallways every once in a while, albeit
accidentally, and every day for lunch on purpose. You sit down under a large
oak in the college’s garden, and as you tell him rather enthusiastically about
your day, he listens carefully with the faintest smile upon his lips.
In December, the girls come spend winter vacations at Dirk’s place. Jane brings
her dad, and Roxy her mom, and the three adults chat all night long while the
four of you play videogames and board games until everyone’s so tired you can’t
even see straight. Your birthdays are celebrated in a never ending party that
starts on a rainy Wednesday and is dragged on until the coldest Sunday evening
of the year.
On Christmas, you all trade presents, and everyone shouts and laughs and
cheers. You sit beside the sparkling pine tree after all the fuss is over, a
cup of warm eggnog cradled between your palms. You’re completely surrounded by
present wrapping, and Dirk and you are covered with a thick, comfy blanket.
You’re leaning against Dirk’s shoulder, fighting against the sleep threatening
to overpower you, and when the blonde drapes his arm around your back, resting
his callused hand on the top of your head to scratch your scalp
affectionately... it’s then that you’re absolutely sure you’ve never been
happier in your entire life.
That other time so many months ago doesn’t even compare to how giddy you feel
right now.
On New Year’s Eve, you all drive to the beach to watch the fireworks. When the
clock strikes midnight, everyone cheers, pops the cork of the champagne – Roxy
drinks down her cup in one go –, and before you can hug Dirk, offer him a toast
or even wish him a happy new year, he leans towards you, wraps both arms around
your wait and kisses your lips.
Everyone’s too happy and immerged in their own celebration to even notice the
two of you, but to you, the world stopped. Not even the fireworks existed
during those three seconds that Dirk kept his lips pressed against yours.
He pulled back after what seemed like an eternity, stared into your dark green
eyes, lips still brushing against yours, and whispered, “Happy new year, Jake”,
voice sweet as honey. You could see the nervousness in his features, the
hesitation on his looks, the fear of rejection on his eyes.
But rejecting Dirk, your best friend, the closest person to you in the entire
world, never ever crossed your mind.
So you simply smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips before he could even
consider absconding.
“Happy new year to you too, mate.”
Now... now you’re absolutely sure you’ve never been happier.
---
You and Dirk have been dating for three months now. Nothing changed much
between the two of you, besides a few small things. For instance, instead of
meeting only by accident on the college hallways, the two of you mapped
specific paths towards your classrooms in between classes that allowed you to
bump into each other occasionally. You trade quick pecks to the cheek –
sometimes you manage to place a small kiss to the corner of his mouth – and
quickly bid each other farewell. See you later, mate. Have a good class. See
you at lunch.
One of these days, you let three words slip as you’re walking away and waving,
right after kissing him on the lips by accident.
I love you.
He stops on his tracks, and so do you, once you’ve noticed what you just said.
He turns around. You didn’t mean to say it, especially not like that, so out of
the blue, but now that you did, you don’t ever want to take it back. It’s true,
you love him, you’re in love with Dirk, your best friend in the whole world,
and it’s amazing, it’s wonderful, it’s... indescribable. Your chest warms up at
that thought, and now he knows. He’s already standing right before you. He
looks up and removes his glasses. Some people passing by stop to look at you
two (especially at glassless Dirk), but neither one of you mind them in the
least.
“Jake...?” he asks, and you smile.
“I love you, Dirk.” You say again. “I really do.”
And then he’s smiling too, and you swear you can see his eyes watering up a
bit.
He leans forward, kisses you deeply, slowly, passionately, right in the middle
of the hallway.
You know people are staring, murmuring, watching the two of you intensively.
But at that exact moment, neither one of you could really care less.
When he pulls back, he hugs you tightly, and you return the hug with double the
intensity.
“I love you too, English, Jesus Christ, you have no idea of just how much I
love you...” he whispers, and yeah, you can definitely hear the hint of tears
on his voice.
You sigh.
“I believe I do.”
Your name is Jake English, and right now, you’re completely sure you’ve never
been happier in your entire life.
---
It’s been five months since the two of you have started dating.
You ‘re lying down in your own bed, reading the book required for your next
assignment, when Dirk walks in and lies down on top of you, using his arms to
support his weight and not crush you to death. You giggle.
“What on earth are you doing?!” you ask.
“Just came back from a fifty minutes long car ride from the airport after
dropping bro there. I’m tired as shit, what do you think I’m doing?”
“Well, I assume you’re using me as a pillow, am I right?”
“Damn right you’re right.” And he nuzzles the spot between your shoulder
blades, sighing happily.
“Well, I’m afraid I’m not the comfiest pillow, you know.” You say, turning
around a bit to look at him, trying not to knock him over in the process. You
can tell he’s not wearing his glasses because when he rests his forehead
against your shirt you’re unable to feel the sharpness of the device on your
skin.
“Hmm.” He murmurs. “Maybe not the most comfortable, but definitely the most
wonderful. I could sleep here in the blink of an eye.”
“As much as I’m glad to hear that, I’m afraid I couldn’t say the same! You’re
rather heavy, Dirk.”
“You calling me fat, English?” he asks, faking offense, and you laugh.
“I’m saying that you’re a very fit, bodacious men, who is seventy-two inches
tall. You’d be heavy even if you lacked the rather toned physique you own.”
He raises his head off your back. “…did you just called me ‘bodacious’?”
You hesitate, blushing a bit. “...nnnno?” you say, a little embarrassed by your
choice of words, but Dirk simply laughs.
“Fuck, English, I thought that was a compliment saved only for your blue
ladies.”
“Well, none of my blue ladies compare to you, alright?” you exclaim, more than
just a bit embarrassed by this point. “You’re a very handsome, marvelous,
bodacious men, Dirk, and I wouldn’t trade you for any blue gal in the world.
Even if, by some improbable turn of events, they were all standing before me,
naked and swinging their hips around in a rather coarse way.”
Dirk freezes. You can feel the muscles in his body becoming rigid over your
back, and he lifts his weight off of you. You take that opportunity to turn
around completely and look at him straight in the eyes, frowning. He has a
single eyebrow raised.
“...really?”
“Absolutely. Not a doubt on my mind.”
“Even Neytiri?”
“Not even if Neytiri had cup D plus sized breasts.”
He looks down, his blonde brow returning to its rightful place.
“Fuck, you’re serious.”
“Well, of course I am serious! I do love you, don’t I?” you say, pulling him
down so he’s not on top of you anymore, and instead, you’re both lying on your
sides, facing each other. “I’d never trade you for anything or anyone,
Strider. Ever. It pains me that you don’t think I’m serious when I say things
like that.”
“No, it’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just... fuck, Jake. Okay, this may
sound really terrible on my part, but I always thought that you... felt more
attracted to women more than... well, men.”
Now it’s your turn to raise an eyebrow.
“Excuse me?”
“I always knew that you liked me a lot, and when we started dating, I
thought...” he stops for nearly a whole minute, then waves his head on the
mattress. “N-never mind, it’s stupid.”
“No, no, it’s not stupid! Nothing that comes out of your mouth could ever be
classified as ‘stupid’, Dirk. What did you thought?”
“Well... that you’re still more attracted to girls than me?”
You widen your eyes.
“I mean, even after we started dating, you still complimented curvy, badass
girls in the movies we watched together, and you’re still obviously infatuated
with blue skinned women...”
“You complimented those girls, too!” you tell him, and he waves his head again.
“Yeah, but... I just acknowledged that they were pretty and extremely hardcore.
I don’t feel attracted to them, not even in the slightest. But I know you do.”
“Dirk...” you whisper, biting your bottom lip with your overbite. “Is that why
we’ve never gone past kissing and hugging and cuddling? Were you afraid that I
would reject you if we ever made further attempts at physical intimacy?”
He blushes under that poker face of his and stares at the bed between the two
of you.
“Well, yes. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m more than happy just being close to
you like this. We don’t have to push things further if you don’t feel attracted
to me that way.”
And so you smack him on his bare arm, right over his tattoo.
“Ow!” he yelps, glaring at you. “What was that for?!”
“For your stupidity, Strider!” Another slap, another “ow!!!”, only louder this
time. “And that’s for keeping stuff from me!! This whole ordeal would’ve been a
lot easier if only you had told me about your silly, unfounded worries sooner!”
he looks up at you, rubbing his arm, and you sit up on the bed. Your long
forgotten book is placed on the nightstand, along with your glasses, and you
hoist Strider up by his armpits, sitting him up before you. You stare deeply
into his golden irises, trying to show him how serious you are. “If I wasn’t
attracted to you that way, if I hadn’t considered doing more than just kissing,
I would’ve never, ever accept your dating proposal, Dirk. Yes, I’d still love
you the same way, but that’s what makes the difference between close friends
and boyfriends!!! Of course I want to become intimate with you! I cannot
believe you thought even for a second that I didn’t! Didn’t you ever consider
that I could be equally attracted to both man and women??”
He keeps his pokerface, but by the blush on his face, you can see he’s
embarrassed. So you keep going.
“How can I prove to you that I am bloody serious? What do I have to do? I’ll do
anything! Hell, I’ll rip the posters of all my blue, half-naked women off my
wall! I’ll change my cell phone wallpaper to a picture of your bare rump!
I’ll... I’ll jump off a bridge, holding an enormous sign that says ‘I WANT TO
HAVE SEX WITH DIRK STRIDER’, with big, bold, red, underlined, capital
letters!!!” and you shake him by the shoulders while saying these last few
words, because ugh, how embarrassing! On the bright side, he seems to be just
as mortified, because his blush deepens, making the tip of his ears red like a
tomato. “Would that do the fucking trick?!?!!”
You stop shaking him to allow him to talk. He opens his mouth to say something,
closes it, and then does it again. It looks like he’s imitating a fish. You’re
a little out of breath, face hot and heart pounding with embarrassment and
frustration, and Dirk visibly tightens his grip to his arm, right where you
smacked him.
“I... Well, I--“
But you don’t give him enough time to answer. Before anything else can come out
of that ridiculously stupid and beautiful mouth, you shut him up by pressing
your own lips to his. He moans, a bit surprised, and exhales through his nose,
but a second later he’s already grabbing your arms and responding with equal
intensity. You brush your tongue against his, pushing it back, forcing your way
into his mouth. He nibbles your bottom lip and you reach for the roof of his
mouth, to which he seals his lips around your tongue and sucks. You’ve had
kisses like that. Plenty, in fact. And just knowing that Dirk was sure you were
thinking about your blue ladies instead of him whenever you kissed him like
that makes you infuriated.
You rise to your knees, never breaking the kiss, and scoot closer to Dirk,
sitting on his lap. You can already feel a small bulge forming beneath you, and
you rock against him, chafing your own forming erection against the fabric of
his pants. He moans loudly at that, parting his lips from yours, and you take
that moment to ravish his chin, jaw and neck instead, never ceasing the
rhythmic rocking of your hips.
It’s like swaying to a song. You swing back and forth, slowly, graciously, and
the hands on your arms now have an iron grip against your muscle. The erection
beneath you is now rock hard – you smile to yourself, feeling a little proud
for being responsible for it – and  you move both your hands towards Dirk’s.
You hold his fingers, pulling them off of your arm at the same time you bite
down and press your tongue firmly against the tendons on his neck, and the
sound he makes then is music to your ears. You place Dirk’s palms on your
waist, where he may slide them down to your hips if he wishes so, and
immediately he takes the hint, holding both your butt cheeks against his palm
and moving your behind against his crotch to his own accord. You slide your
hands beneath his shirt, reveling in the sounds he’s making, the whimpers he’s
letting out of his lips, and it’s so goddamn beautiful you wish you could never
ever stop listening to them.
Dirk slides both hands away from your ass. He keeps one of them on your thigh
and raises the other to your head, where he grabs your hair firmly and pulls
your head back. You cry out, a little startled, (but also a little turned on by
the roughness in said action, which is oh so different from how he usually is
with you) and he leans in and kisses your lips again, hungrily and hastily,
hips still moving, still creating friction and building up the heat and the
uncomfortable but marvelous pressure in your nether parts; he’s panting and
moaning desperately against you, face warm, sweat building up in his forehead,
eyes half lidded and foggy with lust, and god, everything is just so, so
wonderful, you can hardly stand it yourself.
“Aaaaah... J-Jake...” he whispers, hiding his face on your shoulder. He sounds
needy and desperate, and in those simple, precious moments you know you love
him more than anything else in the whole damn world. You pull him closer,
hiding your face in his blonde hair. You tug his shirt up and alternate between
rubbing his back affectionately and raking his skin with your nails, leaving
long, red scratch marks in him that you know will take a while to fade. He
drawls out a long, deep moan as you slide your nails down against his spine,
ever so slowly, and you smile against his scalp, feeling accomplished.
You’re reaching your breaking point, and you know it. You both are. But as much
as you want to cum, to tense up in his arms and slump up against him, you
haven’t made your point yet. You haven’t proven yourself. You haven’t shown him
just how much you want him, just how much you need him.
Without a warning, you get off of his lap, hold him by his torso, line him up
with the bed’s headboard and push him down against the pillow. He looks up at
you, eyes just a tad more open and looking a bit startled.
“J-Jake…?”
You don’t answer. Instead, you give him a feral look, trying to look as sexy
and predatory as possible. It must’ve worked, because he gulps and places his
palms over your hipbone, tightens his grip to your body, panting beautifully
beneath you.
“I adore you, mister Strider.” You whisper, licking your lips and your teeth.
Slowly, you push his shirt up again as far as it can go and kiss his broad
chest. “I worship you.” Another kiss, this time to his left nipple. He shudders
beneath you. You ignore it, pretend not to notice. “I admire you.” Yet another
kiss, but now to his right nipple, and you take a second to lick and suck at
it. He gasps and grabs the fabric of your shorts, throwing his head back, and
you stop, but not before scraping your teeth lightly against the tip of the
pink nub. “I love you.”
He sighs and looks down at you, slightly turning the corner of his lips up;
it’s barely noticeable. It’s that sweet Strider charm. It makes your heart melt
with infatuation.
“I love you, too, English.”
You smile back at him and keep descending, slowly, planting small but lingering
kisses all over his stomach on your way down, going lower and lower still until
you reach his bellybutton and the short, curly path of hair that traces
downward and disappears under the elastic band of his boxers. You nuzzle the
soft, platinum blonde hair, breathing in to feel its scent, to feel the warmth
of Dirk’s skin, and slowly you trace your hand down his sides, pressing down
with the tip of your fingers as to not tickle him (even though you always love
to hear his honest laugher), stilling your hands on the button of his shorts.
Your fingers take position over the silver button, and you look up at him,
looking for a sing, any sing that tells you it’s okay to keep going. Dirk is
looking down at you, leaning over his elbows to watch what you’re doing with
careful attention, and slowly, you can see the expression in his eyes change;
he understood what you’re waiting for. Finally he nods, and you return your
gaze to your hands. Above you, Dirk watches his pants being undone with the
utmost care, as if it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. You pull the
black fabric down and your heart skips a beat with the sight of a small, wet
patch on the gray fabric of his boxers. It’s thrilling. The thought that you
were responsible for it, guilty for leaving him in this current state, made you
lightheaded in the most wonderful way possible.
In a swift motion, you pull his boxers all the way down along with his jeans,
and Dirk gasps with surprise. You love making him do those involuntary sounds.
It’s the most brilliant thing ever, and you wish you never ever have to listen
to him holding them back. You pull his clothes off of him in a haste, finally
taking your time to admire his smooth skin and his bare erection.
You have the decency to blush a bit at the sight, but mostly, you’re...
flabbergasted. Yes, flabbergasted is positively a good word for your current
state of spirit.
He’s pale, pale as the first snow of the winter, pale save for the flushed pink
head of his member.  He’s also longer than you, though a bit thinner, and you
take note of the fact that he keeps his pubic hair trimmed, except for his
balls, which are... oh, oh, gosh, well, they’re... they’re completely shaved.
You know you would’ve laughed and questioned him in any other occasion, but
now... now, as you’re looking down at his swollen, beautiful, hoisted erection,
admiring the skin of his testicles, clean and soft and smooth and oh so
deliciously warm beneath your fingers, a small bead of precum on the tip of his
member...
You can’t find it in the least funny that he shaves himself. Not even a bit.
In fact, it just makes it easier to do what you’re about to do.
You massage him in your hands for a bit, enjoying the comfortable warmth,
reveling in the softness of his skin. You cup him up in your palm, holding the
base of his dick firmly with your other hand, and dive in, pressing your wet,
warm tongue against the sensitive and smooth skin.
“Gaaah, Jake, w-what are you—AAAH!” he begins asking, but you effectively cut
him off before he can finish his sentence by taking the small organ inside your
mouth, sucking lightly as to not hurt him. “Hnnng, English... y-you, you’re,
oooh, holy shit...” when you think you’ve given the right one enough attention
you make your way to his left one, sucking on it as well, feeling the taste of
his skin and the smell of his sweat and his body like a man thirsty for water.
The noises, oh, the bloody noises he’s making... “beyond description” is an
understatement. Every time he moans, gasps, takes in a deep, shuddering breath,
your own dick jumps inside the confinement of your pants, crying for attention,
for release. Dirk has an iron grip to the sheets on either side of his body,
and when you look up at him, lips still around his testicle, left hand slowly
and distractedly pumping his erection, you notice that he hasn’t looked away
from you, not even for a second. His mouth is half open, neck and shoulders
muscles rigid and tense, and his brows are furrowed up, giving him a look of
pure ecstasy, one you didn’t even knew that the always poker faced Dirk Strider
could pull off. It’s hypnotizing, and it makes you want more, more, so much
more.
You look down again, concentrating on your ministrations, and you have an idea.
It’s awkward as fuck, and you’ll probably look hella silly while doing it, but
you decide to try it anyway. Dirk doesn’t say anything, doesn’t question what
the hell you’re doing, just watches and waits.
You use your right hand to push his free testicle towards you, and you clumsily
open your mouth as far as it can go, pushing it in with his left one. You
officially have a mouthful of Strider; you have to keep yourself from smiling
at the thought. It’s quite tricky to keep them both in, and you’re having a
hard time not clamping down and biting on his skin. You’re a fraction of a
second away from snickering at the ridiculous situation you’ve put yourself in,
but before your brain can fully process what the hell is so funny, you suck in,
just a little, and it makes Dirk moans twice as hard and trice as loud as
before.
Well.
You guess that experiment was a complete success, then.
“Aaaahn… aaah… J-Jaaaake…” he moans above you, closing his eyes a little, and
you keep on sucking softly, lapping your tongue around the flesh inside your
mouth, pulling back with every gentle suck ever so slightly, and he lets out a
deep breath followed by a sweet, sweet cry of pleasure every time you do so.
His thighs shake, becoming as rigid as his neck, and when you think you’ve
neglected the main attraction for long enough, you move away, wiping the drool
off the corner of your mouth with your tongue. Dirk relaxes instantly, and he
opens his eyes just in time for him to see you ogling the small, transparent
bead of precum that is peeking out of the tip of his dick. You look up at him,
watching his red, red face, and you lick your lips. His whole body quivers, and
you rest your hands on his inner thighs, leaning forward and licking the precum
away with the tip of your tongue.
“Oooooh, fffuuuuck, English...” Dirk moans, biting his lip, because hell yeah,
you got the effect you wanted. Your tongue barely touched him, and when you
pulled back, the sticky fluid was still connecting your tongue to his member in
a thin, gleaming line. You look back up at Dirk’s face, tongue out, eyes half
open, and you sure as hell hoped you looked sexy, because, honestly, the last
thing you ever considered yourself to be was “sexy”. But apparently it did the
trick, because he licks his lips and tangles a hand in your head, not pushing
you down nor pulling you back, just scraping your scalp, messing with your
hair, and it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen.
“Have I told you just how much I love you, Dirk?” You ask him, and he gulps
down, breathing in before answering.
“Yeah, I think so. But it’s sure as hell not as much as I love you.” He tells
you, and you smile, leaning in and placing a chaste kiss to the swollen head of
his penis. He gasps. “Of t-that you can be sure.” He finishes, still massaging
your head. You smile, lips still locked to his skin.
“Are you willing to bet for it, Strider?”
But you don’t give him time to answer, and by the way he gives up on any
coherent phrases, he knows he’s not expected to give one. You take the head in
between your lips, swiping your tongue around it, feeling every curve, every
single detail of the smooth but slightly textured skin. The taste of him is
faint, but still evident on your mouth; it’s tangy and a little sour, but not
unbearable. In fact, just knowing that it’s him, it’s Dirk on your lips, on
your tongue, tickling your taste buds, it makes you want to taste as much of
him as you can. So you suck, and Dirk moans, just as loudly as when you were
sucking on his balls, and you use your right hand to massage the body of his
dick, coaxing all the precum out of him and into your mouth. Dirk gasps and
mewls with every stroke skillfully synchronized with the sucking, and after you
know you’ve drunk everything out of him, you start going lower, lower, forcing
your lips down past his head and towards his entire length. He keens loudly
when you go as far as you can, and you pull back, slowly but firmly stroking
what you can’t fit into your mouth. You repeat the motion, trying to build up a
steady rhythm, squeezing his thigh, the hand he’s kept in your hair tugging
your locks painfully, and his legs are getting rigid again, he’s almost there,
you can feel it, you start building up your pace, faster, faster, harder...
“Ja-Jake, w-wait, please, oh fuck, please, stop, Jake...!” Dirk whispers
between his cries, reaching for you and pulling you up. Immediately you stop,
worried, and you crawl up the bed ‘till you’re face to face.
“What’s wrong, old chap...? Oh, crickey, did I hurt you? Oh fuck I should’ve
known, I’m sorry, I was just so eager, I didn’t--“
“Ssssh, ssh Jake, come on, you didn’t hurt me.” he whispers, kissing you on the
lips. You blink, confused.
“I didn’t?”
“No, of course you didn’t, fuck, you were... more than perfect, seriously. That
was... that was mind-blowing.” And the way he says it all, more than just a
little out of breath, wiping the sweat off his face with one hand and kneading
the muscles in your ass with the other, it makes your heartbeat accelerate.
Gosh darn it, how can he be so gloriously perfect like that. “I just... wanted
to ask you how far you’re willing to go. Today, I mean.”
 “Whatever do you mean?”
Dirk groans lowly, throws his head back, and you lean over him a bit more,
keeping extra attention on his features.
“I, uh... just... n-never mind, you can keep going if you want to, sorry for
ruining the mood there.”
“No, no, no, what did you wanted to tell me? Please, Dirk. I don’t want you to
think you can’t tell me anything.”
He sighs. It’s frustrated, and he’s embarrassed as fuck – at least that you can
tell from the way he scrunches up his nose and stares at the ceiling.
“I was wondering... if... if you wouldn’t consider going further than
just... that. But if it’s asking too much then it’s okay, because I’m already
happy with this, you have no idea,” and he’s rambling, because you’ve widened
your eyes only slightly at the realization of what he’s asking for, “and yeah I
mean what the hell am I saying, this is our first time after all, and I don’t
even know if you’d be down for that kind of thing, most people think it’s plain
nasty, with reason, too, but I’d love if you did it but I’d never make you do
it or anything, I just--“
You lean down and kiss him, and that effectively shuts him up, though you can
feel in the kiss that he’s still nervous and tense.
“So you’re saying...” you whisper, looking at him directly in the eyes. “And
I’m asking because I want to make sure I didn’t get this completely wrong...
you want us to have sex? Penetrative sex?”
“I want you to take my virginity, English. All of it.” He says, nodding. “So
yeah, I guess that’s about right.”
Your face heats up and your stomach knots up with eagerness.
“...’kay.”
Dirk raises his head and stares, a little wide eyed.
“Really?”
You nod. Maybe just a bit too hard. You can almost hear your brain scrambling
while you shake your head.
“Y-yes, well, if you’re really okay with it, then... then yes, sure, why not.
It’s just... I’m not really sure how to do it, and I don’t want to hurt you or
anything...”
And for the first time yet this day, Dirk is the one to initiate the kiss. It’s
slow, wet, a little sloppy and desperate, and all the more wonderful. You can
feel Dirk’s hot breath against your mouth, his apprehension in the way he
nibbles on your bottom lip, his happiness on the slight furrow of his brows,
like he can barely help himself with how happy he is.  He pulls back and takes
your right hand, cradling it against his chest.
“I’ll guide you through it. I’ve... done it a few times myself. When I’m alone,
I mean.”
“Oh. Really?”
Dirk nods, blushing. “Really.”
You hesitate, look at your own knuckles, trace a few soothing circles on his
fingers.
“W-well, alright then. Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”
He laughs, a little uneasy, but nods again, smiling. “Sure thing, English.”
You have to admit this is awkward, though. Even if just a little.
No who are you kidding, it is very awkward.
Dirk gets up after your snarky remark to get a bottle of lube he keeps in his
drawer. You take that moment to remove your shirt, because gosh, it’s
unbearably stuffy in the room! You wonder if it’s because of the humid Texan
heat or if it’s because of, well... everything else. You bet on the latter.
As Dirk climbs back onto the bed, you’re already unbuckling and opening your
shorts, which are already too tight for your own comfort. They already were
over half an hour ago. He smiles to you, and shit, it’s a little predatory,
just like the one you gave him a while ago.
“Alright, now lay back and spread your legs.”
You look up, a little shocked.
“E-e-excuse me?!”
Dirk laughs loudly at your reply, and you blush, realizing he just pranked you.
“I’m just kidding, Jake.” He chuckles. “You should’ve seen your face though, it
was priceless.”
You think about glaring at him, scowling, shooting him a loud and mouthful
“fuck you”, but before you can do any of that, Strider’s already pulling his
shirt over his head and removing his socks. He scoots back to the pillow on the
headrest and lies down, knees bended and legs spread apart. He has the decency
of being more than just a bit self-conscious of his current situation, though;
he loses the snarky grin and looks more than just a tad embarrassed, his six
pack rising and falling to the rhythm of his breath. It’s then that it hits
you. Dirk Strider is in your bed, naked, legs open and inviting you in,
completely vulnerable and willing and aroused.
It’s the most gorgeous sight you’ve ever seen.
“I’m going to stretch myself out just a bit, and then you can keep going from
where I stop, okay?” he asks, and it takes you a couple of seconds to process
what he just said.
“Uuuh, o-okay, go ahead.”
He snickers, but goes ahead anyway. The cap of the bottle of lube is open with
a loud click, and he squeezes some of the colorless liquid over the tip of his
middle and index fingers. You adjust yourself between his legs, finally sliding
off your shorts without getting up (it’s a little clumsy, but you manage to do
it anyway), and watch as the tip of his fingers dip in between his butt cheeks
and disappear. He rubs small circles over where his anus must be, you can’t
really see it behind his hand and his ass (oh god oh god you’re really watching
this oh my god), and his index finger dips further still, and more, and a
little bit more, until it’s finally knuckle deep, as far as it can go. Dirk
arches his back only slightly as he writhes his finger inside himself a little,
and your own dick twitches at the sight, a small drop of precum sliding down
your head (oh god when did you start stroking yourself oh man oh god), and
after a few seconds he pulls it out completely, only to push it back again a
second later, accompanied by his middle finger.
He groans, and it’s low and languid, and when he pushes both fingers inside
himself, he does it a lot slower than before. When he’s knuckles deep once
again, he stops, breathes once, twice, and you can see his knuckles moving
beneath the skin of his hand. Dirk moans just as you finally realize that he
must be scissoring his fingers.
You squeeze the body of your own erection with anticipation, gulping down
dryly.
It’s too much.
He pulls his fingers out again, and you’re expecting to see them covered in
just a little blood – or even maybe something else – but they’re as clean as
they can get. Dirk opens his eyes and looks at you, his sight lingering over
your dick. You blush when you notice he’s staring, but still you let go of it
so he can take a proper look. Maybe evaluate it or something. Whatever, you’re
not being coherent anyway.
“Wow.” He breaths out, grinning. “Wow, uh... I think you’ll have to stretch me
with three fingers, huh? At least.”
You blush. You’re pretty sure that was a compliment. He hands you the bottle.
“Now you do it. It’ll be easier since I’ve prepared it a little.” He says,
lying back down. “I’ll help you out by relaxing, just... take your time, okay?
Don’t rush into things. It’ll be worse, both for me and you.”
“Okay. Okay...” you whisper, pouring a bit of lube onto the tip of your
fingers, like you saw him doing, and fuck it’s cold. You lean forward a bit,
reaching for the wet spot where Dirk’s fingers were just a minute ago, and when
you touch his flesh he lets out a long, shuddering breath, spreading his legs a
bit wider. Okay... okay, you can do this. You can do this. You feel your way
around, finding the tight entrance, and when you’ve spread all the lube around
it, you dip the tip of your finger inside, forcing your way past it, mindful of
your trimmed nails. The walls tighten up around you, and you push in, slowly,
slowly, until you can’t go any further. And you stop, completely unsure of what
to do.
Dirk giggles. “Nervous, Jake?”
“W-well, yeah. A bit.” You answer in all complete honesty, though you kind of
want to punch him for giggling.
“Yeah.” He says, resting both hands over his own thighs. “Me too.”
Oh.
His hands are shaking.
You look down; yours are, too.
It’s like your first kiss all over again. The both of you are nervous, but
eager and happy and just...
Everything’s so very awkward, but it’s perfect, because you have each other.
You pull your finger out of him, and he gasps when you do so, and slowly,
carefully, you try to push your middle finger in as well as you force your way
back into him. The muscle fights back, and it makes you a little nervous, a
little worried, but he squeezes his own crotch, murmurs “it’s okay, you can
keep going, it doesn’t hurt”, and you feel like he must know exactly how you’re
feeling. So you do as he says, and keep forcing your way in. Slowly.
When both fingers are buried deep inside Dirk, he’s breathing quickly, moaning
lowly with every new intake of breath, and his knuckles are white with the iron
grip he has on his thighs. You would be very worried if only his dick wasn’t
still completely erect, as hard as it could get, leaking precum much like
yours.
“O-okay, n-now... move them a little. Back and forth.” Dirk whispers, and you
do as he says, but he shifts and groans uncomfortably. At this point you’re
getting extremely worried about doing something wrong.
“A-are you alright?” you ask, and he nods.
“Y-yeah, just... feels weird at first.” He says, biting his bottom lip. “Gets
better. Just... just please, don’t stop.”
You nod again, unsure of what to respond to that, and you keep going. You
continue pushing your fingers inside of him, then pulling out, and pushing them
back in, not too slowly so it’s not too uncomfortable for him and also not too
fast as to not hurt him. Eventually, he reaches for your moving hand with his
weak and shaky one and says, in a completely out of breath tone, “T-that’s
cool. Now put the third one in.” You can’t help but widen your eyes.
“T-t-third one?!” you ask, your voice shrilling a bit, and it would’ve been a
lot more embarrassing if only Strider wasn’t looking so damn serious and sexy
and vulnerable all at the same time. You gulp, he licks his dry lips sensually,
and you continue, trying to keep your voice somehow normal. “B-but, I thought
you were joking! Are you...?”
Dirk reaches forward and cups your face, effectively shooshing you. You lean
into his touch, still kind of aware of the two digits you have deep inside of
him, and frown.
“It’ll hurt if you don’t do it, Jake.” He says, and the way he whispers your
name is downright magnificent. It sends a shiver down your spine and a warming
heat up to the tip of your ears. “Seriously. You’re pretty impressive, width-
wise. Not that you’re not fairly good in length as well, but you get the
drift.”
You chuckle, holding his hand against your face with your free palm. “...yeah,
I believe I do ‘get the drift’, my man.”
“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, though.” He tells you,
completely calm; he’s trying to give you a soothing reassurance. “You can stop
if you’ve changed your mind. Don’t force yourself only to please me.”
You shut your eyes tightly, squeezing his hand a little. “N-no...” you whisper,
biting your bottom lip and completely not caring if it makes your bucktooth
look even more prominent. “If you’re saying that it’s okay then I’ll do it.
Just... let me know if I must stop.”
Dirk then gives your cheek one final stroke with his thumb and pulls his hand
away from you, lying back down on the pillow. You sigh. This is kind of
flustering, kind of awkward, and kind of really uncomfortable. Your dick is
going limp between your legs, especially after Dirk makes a half-pained, half-
frustrated whine when you pull out both your fingers.
Still, you know Dirk wants this. You know he does, and as you open the bottle
of lube again and pour some onto your ring finger, you remind yourself that
he’s already done this before, albeit on his own. You push the two fingers in
again – unsurprisingly enough, they slide in easily – and when your nails have
disappeared, you start pushing your third finger in as well.
Differently from what you expected, it’s not as hard as it was with your second
finger. Apparently the muscle is plenty... stretchable? You don’t even know if
that’s actually a word, but your mind is too foggy and fuzzy with the way
Dirk’s moaning right now to actually care.
“You okay?” you ask, because from the way he’s writhing and twisting beneath
your touch, moaning nonstop, it’s kind of hard to tell if he’s enjoying himself
of if it’s just plain hurting him.
“Hnnng...” is all he manages to say before you come to a complete halt, worry
overpowering you. You slowly start pulling your fingers out of him, regretting
ever agreeing to do this in the first place, but as you’re opening your mouth
to apologize, Dirk stops you, grabs your wrist before you’ve completely
retracted, looks down at you, and, and...
Well, then.
Your erection is back in full-force, apparently.
“Don’t you dare stop now, English.” He whispers, breathing heavily. “I-I mean,
no, you’re not hurting me, you’re doing fine, just, please...” and he throws
himself back down onto the pillow, groaning. “Don’t expect me to hold your hand
all the way, and by that I mean reassuring you every five seconds that I’m
fine, because fuck, you can’t seriously expect me to be able to come up with
anything coherent to say with your fingers deep up in my ass.”
You chuckle, pushing your fingers a bit more into him, feeling the muscles
around it trying to force them out, and Dirk gasps. “Really? Because you seem
to be doing a fine job right now.” You say, sporting a devious grin. It is not
one hundred percent honest, though. Dirk laughs, though, and it’s exactly what
you were aiming for. An ice breaker.
“Just... don’t worry about me. Rest assured that I’ll give you a very loud
warning if you hurt me. And then, and only then, you can stop. Agreed?”
“Yes, agreed.” you tell him, and Dirk sighs. You think about asking him if it’s
okay for you to keep going now that the two of you settled this issue, but you
decide against it. You can even feel the glare he’d shoot you if you did that.
So instead you push your way in a little more, and more, and more, and Dirk
breathes out heavily, resuming his iron grip on the sheets instead of his
thighs, and before you know it you’re knuckle deep into him again, and you just
stop. And feel everything.
It’s downright amazing. You can feel the curves and dips and textures of his
flesh, you can feel his warmth – his iron hot warmth, his fire burning warmth
–, but mostly, you can feel him. You feel his accelerated heartbeat beneath
your fingers. You feel whenever he flinches, squirms, every single time he
moves, even if it’s just an insignificant inch. You can feel him breathing. You
can feel when his muscles contract involuntarily whenever you brush his
prostate (even if you’re still not completely sure of its location), and you
can definitely feel when he moans. It’s like his whole body vibrates, and along
with his hot, steady pulse beneath your fingers, the sensation sends an
overwhelming rush of heat up to the back of your neck that descends all the way
to your groin.
You tell yourself that it’s okay, that Dirk will take on his promise to let you
know if he wants you to stop, and you take a deep breath.
And you pull your hand back and push it back in with all your might in a swift
motion.
Dirk wasn’t expecting it in the least; he gasps, lets out this high pitched
whine of what you can finally tell its pleasure, and you don’t give him a
moment to breathe. You push again, and again, and you watch with amazement as
he makes the famous “o” face, his mouth permanently open in that same stunned
form, his shoulders tense and his back arched, hips leaning towards your hand
and away from it all at the same time. It’s like his body can’t decide between
craving for more and wanting it to stop.
“Aaah... ggnn...aaah…J-Jaaaake...” he moans, and that does it for you. You pull
your fingers out of him and reach for the lube. You hear Dirk slumping back on
the bed, breathing so hard onto the pillow it’s almost as if he just ran a
fucking marathon. You chuckle while slicking your own member with lube, and you
watch as his golden eyes are directed to you on the corner of his eye.
“Had enough, old chap?” you ask a bit smugly, and he just keeps staring at you,
pulling the corner of his lips upward in a weak but honest grin.
“Never, English.” He says, and you scoot closer, taking his limp torso on your
hands. He adjusts himself comfortably on the bed while you fix his hips on your
lap and line your dick to the entrance of his body. “Just... start out slowly,
will ya?”
“You got it.” You tell him, and you try pushing your way in. It’s harder than
using your fingers, that’s for sure, because you’re wider and a lot slicker
(both of you are quite slippery, and you slip away from your goal three times
in a row when pushing against him), but eventually you manage to force the
muscle to give in again. From the way Dirk doesn’t even clench his hands back
in fists but still exhales with a painful groan, you know he’s trying his best
to relax, and you smile.
This is trust, you tell yourself as you finally feel the ring of muscle quite
literally swallow the head of your member and clench almost uncomfortably
around it. Dirk hisses, throws his head back, and you stop. You’re rock hard
from just that, because goodness, if feeling his heartbeat on the tip of your
fingers was exciting, you could never describe what it’s like to feel it on the
tip of your cock. You massage Dirk’s hipbones as he breathes, in and out, in
and out, not caring if you’re making a mess on his skin or not, what with the
way your hand is sticky with lube. Obviously, Dirk couldn’t care less either.
“...go.” he says eventually, and you push in a little further. When you’re
halfway in he gasps and begs you to stop again, so you do. The ritual starts
all over again, and you feel extremely dizzy from the lack of blood on your
head, but you keep steady and patient, waiting for his next sign. You don’t
want to ruin this moment.
Eventually he nods, and you slowly push all the way in, stopping only when you
feel your pubic hair touching his perineum. Another pause, another moment for
Dirk to breathe in, and you watch him, waiting once more.
“...can I move?” you ask shyly after a minute or so, and it’s almost like
you’re not the same person who just fingerfucked the blonde men beneath you a
while ago. You wait and wait and wait, because it’s the gentleman thing to do,
and finally he nods again, biting his lip, brows turned upward. The sight is
almost pitiful.
You reach for his face with your clean hand and graze the soft skin of his lips
with the pad of your thumb, slowly. He opens his mouth and lets out a
shuddering breath before looking directly at your eyes.
“Just promise me one thing.” You say, pulling your hand back to grab his hip
again. “Don’t you dare hold anything back.”
He smiles.
“I should be telling you just the same, mister English.”
“I’d never even dream about it, mister Strider.”
And you thrust.
It’s shallow, it’s slow, but it’s something already, and it makes Dirk
enunciate this little mewl that reverberates inside of him and goes straight to
your groin and up to the back of your neck. You tighten your grip on his
hipbone and thrust again, this time harder, faster, and he reacts
marvelously.God. You could just spend all eternity watching him scrunch up his
face like that. Another thrust. Another moan. It’s too much, too good. You
begin quickening your pace, not leaving much time between pulling out and
pushing back in, and every time you thrust harder, go faster, he arches his
back just so, pushes back onto you, thrusts himself against your dick with all
his might, moans harder, louder, until his voice is coarse and his chest and
face are damp with sweat and his platinum blond hair is sticking up against his
forehead in all directions.
You lean towards him, almost lying down on top of his torso; you try your
hardest to never give up on the steady rhythm you’ve built, and you use your
left hand to push some sweat and hair away from his eyes. This up close, you
can count the freckles over his cheek and nose, beautifully highlighted by the
heavy flush on his face, and Dirk finally opens his eyelids when he feels your
breath ghosting over his chin. His mouth is still wide open, almost as if
perpetually stuck in that slack jawed expression, and this up-close you can
feel every little shriek, every little pant and gasps he makes whenever you
push inside of him, every time you hit that little hidden spot just right.
You know you’re not being absolutely perfect at this, but from the way Dirk
looks beneath you, brows turned upright, face moist with sweat and lips chapped
and dry from breathing through his mouth, you know you’re doing a damn fine job
for your first time.
You lick his lips, and he manages to close his mouth a bit to kiss you, and
neither one of you bother with lip to lip contact. Instead you immediately dive
into each other’s mouths and your tongues begin a wild battle of trying to do
something that makes sense and feels good, but it’s hella hard when all you can
do is concentrate on the action going on in your nether parts.
Dirk moans pliant into the sloppy kiss, and you lean forward, resting your
weight on your palms, both now sitting beside his shoulders on the bed. Dirk
grabs your biceps and holds on to them for dear life as he makes further
attempts to push himself back onto you, and you take the hint to push even
harder inside him.
“Hngaaaa--! J-Jake, ooh, Jake, Jake, harder, haaaaah, y-yes...!” he screams,
literally screams, and you take that as a good sign – a very good sign, if you
may say so – and try to fuck him harder, faster, and your legs are definitely
going numb, but you refuse to stop. Dirk lets go of one of your arms to pump
his dripping erection, and you’re so close, so close, and it's so damn hot, and
he bites your shoulder, and all you can hear is a muffled “Jake,
Jake, Jake, Jaaaaake!!!” before he stills beneath you and cums all over his
chest.
“D-Dirk...!” you whisper, though it’s more like a cry, a plea, a beg for mercy,
because the way his body is tightening up around you, quite literally milking
you until your last drop, you know you’re not far behind yourself. You feel
your whole body tensing as you ride out your orgasm, resting your suddenly
heavy head over his sweaty shoulder.
And everything just... stops.
Somewhere around your own orgasm and Dirk’s, he wrapped both muscled arms
around your neck and your legs got tangled together. Now that you’ve stopped,
you can feel exactly how tired you are, how sore your thighs feel, how Dirk’s
body is still going thump thump thump to the rhythm of his heartbeat against
your erection, and how he’s just as exhausted as you are. You’re using your
arms to support most of your weight, but you really want to give Dirk some
breathing space, so you start making your way off of him when he suddenly
tightens his grip to your nape and pulls you back towards his shoulder.
“No, no, wait.” He says, and his voice is a bit raspy from all the screaming.
He clears his throat and tries again. “Can we stay like this a little longer?
Please?”
“Sure thing”, you say, and you pull out of him. He half hisses, half gasps for
a second, tenses, then relaxes again.
“Oh, whoa,” he whispers. “that actually feels much better, thanks.” You chuckle
and wave your head.
“You’re welcome, mate.”
And so, per Dirk’s request, you stay. Not that you were planning on leaving
anytime soon, but still.
After a few seconds, you turn around and lay down on your left side, pulling
Dirk with you, and he comes willingly. He ends up scooting closer, wrapping his
arms around your middle and hiding his face on your chest, sighing happily. It
reminds you of a needy puppy. You smile too and bury your face in his hair,
smelling the nice scent of his shampoo. Neither one of you mind the mess you’re
both in right now, coated in sweat and spunk and saliva. You’re too worn-out to
even care.
“...how are you feeling?”
“A bit sore.” He answers, and you wince. He pats your back. “Don’t worry. I
also feel awesome. You were... god, you were fucking amazing, Jake. Every time
I feel the soreness in my rump I’ll remember you, so it’s totally worth it.”
You kiss the top of his head.
“I’m pleased to hear that. I adored it as well. You’re flawless, Dirk.
Seriously.”
“Hmmm.” He hums quietly, kissing your chest. “If I’m flawless, then I sure
wonder what does that makes you. A god, most probably.” He kisses your
collarbone and hugs you a bit tighter. “An angel.”
“Geez, how cheesy, mate. Did I just make you soft with my manly pounding?”
“Shut up, English, you’re ruining the mood.”
“Alright, sorry,” you say, and you both laugh cheerfully, and once again, the
two of you fall into a comfortable silence.
It takes about fifteen minutes for Dirk’s breathing to become steady and soft
against your skin. You slowly massage his back and lightly scratch his head as
he drifts off into a peaceful slumber. You maybe even mumble a sweet lullaby
for him under your breath, but you’d never really admit it.
Against the tangle of blonde locks, you breathe in again, and whisper, so lowly
you can barely hear it yourself,
“I love you, Dirk. I really do.”
And beneath you, just as softly and as kindly, Dirk whispers back, “I love you,
too, Jake.”
And at that moment, that precise moment, you feel so happy you almost cry in
his arms.
At that moment, you’re one hundred percent certain that you’ve never been
happier in your entire life.
You’re aware that you’ve used that sentence in previous moments of your life,
and likewise, none of the other times had compared to this one in perfectness
and peace and pure joy.
You’re sure you’ll have many other moments in your life to come that will have
you saying that same sentence yet again.
And as you fall asleep beside your loving boyfriend, snuggling closer into his
warm embrace, you think to yourself, yeah,
you’re absolutely fine with that.
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