Work Text:
Dave huddles further into the shitty sofa. He is supposed to be watching a film for class—has a notepad out and everything—but instead he is glowering at Dirk from the corner of his eye.
The massive toolbox has set up his stupid exercise circuit for his evening workout in their tiny living room. Which, fair, there is no space anywhere else, and he does put it away each time.
What's not fair are Dirk's fucking shoulders.
And arms.
Also ass.
Dave eats and eats and still never builds anything. Dirk's Gains make Dave so... ugh.
"If you pause it I'll watch it with you after," says Dirk. Dave jumps. The asshole isn't even looking over. He sounds very slightly out of breath.
Dave is darkly glad. He looks down at his notepad. All he's managed to write so far is 'star wipe………' and a doodle of a dick. Yeah, probably time to give up.
"Yeah, 'kay," he says, tossing the notepad onto the cushion beside him. "I'll do that then."
Now he does not need to be in the room, in this chair with this view.
Dirk sure is sweaty.
That's definitely gross.
"You know I keep offering." Dirk pauses to complete a rep. "To help you make a program. I'm serious, bro."
"You saying I'm fat, dude?"
Dirk snorts. "Sure."
Well, they're having a conversation now, so Dave guesses it's not weird if he stays.
"Sorry bro, but I can't go losing weight now, I'm all set for the sumo league."
"You know," says Dirk, finally getting up, "sumo athletes train extremely hard, and have a very strict diet. In fact—"
"Oh my god," Dave whines, "I don't care. It was a joke."
"Git gud, then, bromigo."
"Bromodachi?"
"Fuck, why didn't I think of that one?"
Dave has to hide the grin threatening to spill out. He picks his laptop up from the coffee table and opens and closes Delirious Biznasty a few times, while Dirk goes through his cooldown. Bluh bluh bluh.
While Dirk clunks around with his stuff, Dave opens the document his assignment will eventually go in and wastes some time typing up section placeholders for his essay, and then wastes more time calculating the minimum number of words each section could have to meet the criteria.
When he looks up again, Dirk is back from the shower, damp and pink and wearing just a pair of extremely worn sweatpants, the ones where you can see the outline of his whole package if you're looking. Dave is not looking.
Dirk clicks the light off and wedges himself onto the seat. It's the shittiest sofa ever—the base is completely flat, and the cushions are thin squares that just slide off.
Laptop back on the coffee table, they watch the movie, but Dave is distracted by how warm Dirk's body is from the exercise and the shower. He's radiating hotness all over the damn place. Uh, heat.
They have a weird relationship. Good, but not really all that normal.
Dirk is technically Dave's uncle, but they are the same age, down to the year. Despite this, they only met for the first time at the age of sixteen, at a supremely awkward family function at a crappy restaurant. The two of them had felt obligated to hang out, being the only two teenage boys, and they'd had absolutely nothing to say. They had ended up in the kiddie room, each parked on their own sticky tiny foam mini-sofa, playing a Barbie horse game on a mostly broken PS2. Bonding ensued.
After that, they'd played online games together, which had evolved into chatting over headsets. When they graduated, the extended family had advised them to room together for college, to save on money and to have 'someone else you know there', despite the fact that they'd only met in person a handful of times at that point.
Dave had been secretly glad, as he hadn't really liked the sound of campus life. He had liked the idea of getting to hide away a little, and, now that it's been a few months, he is extremely grateful he decided to go along with it. Dirk does most of his courses online anyway and not only does he keep the house pretty clean, he also has like four online jobs involving programming or something and an Etsy store (he must not sleep, honestly) and is always happy to fork out for nice groceries. When John and Jade complain about dorm food, Dave gets to laugh at them. They ('they') are saving up for a better sofa, but even with a budget they aren't anywhere near cup ramen every night.
Said sofa is currently doing the slidey thing, and Dave's shoulders are migrating south as the cushion inexorably inches toward carpety freedom.
Dave slides slowly onto the floor resignedly. "God I hate this sofa."
Dirk pauses the movie and dumps Dave's notepad off the edge of the sofa into his lap. "Stay on the floor, then," he says.
Dave wiggles around and ends up with his shoulder against Dirk's knee, and somehow is able to take much better notes this time.
When the movie is done, Dave stares at the notes in the glow of the laptop screen, trying to think of some bullshit he can write about it. Then, he hears a soft whistling sound. It's Dirk, sort of snoring. Dave is shocked. Dirk is asleep? Dirk sleeps? Ok, no, he has seen him sleep before. Not like, watched him or anything, that would be fucking creepy.
Dave is sort of on Dirk's leg, and he knows if he moves, Dirk will wake up. He doesn't want to disrupt him, so he just puts his head against Dirk's knee and closes his eyes.
When Dave wakes up, he is covered in itchy cushion and oppressively hot dude. Apparently Dirk succumbed to the shit sofa in the middle of the night too.
Dave finds his phone by flailing and reads that it is 2 a.m. Apparently, Dirk sleeps like a fucking log when he lets himself go out. He is dead still except for nearly imperceptible breathing. Dave has one scratchy cushion wedged between his hip and the base of the sofa, and one bending his neck uncomfortably, and Dirk lying like a rock over his ribs, and he doesn't want to move at all.
Trying not to, unfortunately, makes him even more itchy. He shifts so he can pull his shirt back down and get something between his skin and the gross cushion, and Dirk slithers a little more into him, warm and firm and smelling like orange-scented body wash and oh. Oh hell fucking no. Suddenly Dave is in the middle of a crisis he has been trying so goddamn fucking hard not to have.
First of all, Dave is definitely not gay.
Second of all, this guy is his Bro's actual bro. That is not enough degrees of separation of brohood before anything could be remotely okay.
And it would never be okay in the first place, see: crisis point one.
Actually holding the guy in his sleep like a weirdo is definitely not making anything better, so Dave wiggles out, ignoring the sleepy noise Dirk makes, and escapes to the bathroom.
He washes his face with cold water, scrubs his thick-tongued mouth out with toothpaste, and stares at the mirror, trying to calm his stomach. Everyone has weird thoughts sometimes. Just because you notice someone is attractive and funny and cool and tries so hard to make up for their personal flaws and accommodate yours doesn't mean you're bad.
Dave slips into his room and lies on top of his sheet, staring at the ceiling.
There's a soft knock at the door. Dave tenses up as it pushes open, catching on dirty laundry.
"You all right?" asks Dirk. His voice is scratchy with sleep.
Dave wonders if he can fake being asleep.
"I know you're not asleep," says Dirk.
Well, fuck.
Dave sits up, slouches against the headboard. "Haha, I'm fine. You're welcome to sleep on the floor with itchy sofa cushions if you want though, bro, I won't judge."
Dirk just stands in the doorway for a moment. Then he sighs.
"You know, I thought maybe I could keep this from getting weird."
Dave feels ice spike through his chest. He wants to say, dude, it's like three a.m., go to bed already, but everything is trapped in the ice in his chest.
"Sorry," he finally manages. "I can't help it when you're all." He flaps his hand. "So stupidly hot. Take it as the most fucked up compliment you ever got and please, can we forget about it?"
He closes his eyes, hyper aware of the sound of Dirk shifting in the doorway.
"You know what," says Dirk, and his voice is very slightly strangled, "I actually meant. Like. I thought you were freaking out about me touching you because of my gay cooties. That's. Um..."
"You're gay!?"
"Um, yes? Wait, you're gay?"
"No!! Oh my god, what did I even say!? What the fuck… Oh my god…"
"Okay," says Dirk, sounding very calm, "we have two options here. Either we go to bed and pretend that entire conversation never happened."
"Yeah! Let's do that!"
"Or I go over there and give you a blowjob."
Dave's mouth clicks shut.
"...Or, we can also pretend all of this part of the conversation never happened either, uh, shit."
"No, uh, yeah, can you, can we, um, can we like, is there like, a check A and B option?"
"...Can we play it by ear?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah…"
Dave feels like he is going to jump out of his skin as Dirk crosses the room and sits on his bed. The headboard presses into his back, and Dirk hovers between his knees. He dodges a kiss, hides his face, and feels like the biggest dumbass in history. He curls into Dirk's body.
"You don't wanna kiss?" Dirk asks, and the burr of his voice rumbles Dave so strangely.
"Uh, no I do, I'm just dumb."
"If you're sure."
Dave makes himself pull back, makes himself look into Dirk's eyes, but it is too hard. He looks at Dirk's mouth instead. He tries to angle in, then loses his nerve and hugs Dirk again instead. Dirk's hands squeeze at him and Dirk's breath is hot against his cheek and oh fuck. Dave pulls back again, and this time he manages to peck Dirk on the lips. Oh god, it's so fucking gay. He flushes all over.
Dirk's mouth is crooked in the tiniest smile.
"Was that your first kiss?"
Dave slaps Dirk's shoulder. "No, you fuck. I just…"
He doesn't want to elaborate, so he kisses Dirk again. This time he manages to press their lips together once, twice, three times in a row, and then Dirk's tongue brushes his bottom lip, and counting stops mattering.
This isn't his first kiss. In fact, he is not even a virgin. This isn't actually that different from kissing a girl. If it is different at all anyway? He guesses his girlfriends had all been pretty feisty. Dirk also isn't even really doing that much, just melting into him and meeting him halfway like in everything else, so natural and easy it is definitely a sin. (It also literally is a sin. Dave isn't sure what influence that has had on his boner, which has become a thing.)
When they break apart, Dirk kisses his jaw, kisses under his ear, kisses his neck. Dave freezes up again, clutching Dirk's naked back.
Dirk pauses and looks up. His hands rub down Dave's sides. "You want me to suck your dick?"
"Fuck. You sure cut to the chase."
"Isn't that what you want?" Then Dirk snorts. "You are legit the colour of a tomato right now."
"What if we ban talking?"
"No, that's how regrets happen. I don't want to regret you."
"Oh, wow. I hope you regret that line, cause that was possibly the lamest thing I ever heard. It's making me lame by proxy, and that's no easy feat bro—" Dirk had been sliding down the entire time Dave was babbling, and Dave cuts himself off when Dirk kisses his stomach where his shirt has rucked up.
Dirk kisses his stomach again, a sharp kiss that leaves a little mark. Dave decides to look at the ceiling again as Dirk puts his face in Dave's crotch and breathes.
"Oh holy fuck, oh my kickflipping baby jesus…"
Dirk rolls his head to Dave's thigh and looks up at him, toying with Dave's waistband. "And you were the one who wanted to introduce a silencing clause."
"S-T-F-U, biatch."
Dave swallows stupid noises like the man of supreme chill that he is as Dirk tugs his sleep pants and boxers down around his thighs. His dick rests thick and flushed, and Dirk settles down until his breath is hot against it.
"You can put your hands on me," says Dirk, and Dave lays shaky hands on Dirk's upper arms, rubbing at the hard muscle absently as Dirk kisses his happy trail. Kisses his hip bone, kisses his groin muscle. His dick is getting harder, and it pokes Dirk in the chin.
As Dirk circles his fingers around the base of Dave's dick and licks the head, it is immediately clear to Dave that Dirk has done this before. Dave has had 'first blowjobs' twice, he can tell the difference.
Dave shivers and his hands slide themselves up Dirk's shoulders and grip the back of his neck, the short hairs there feeling nice between his fingers. Dirk hums a little and stops licking, instead pressing a wet kiss to the head of Dave's cock, driving a sound out of Dave.
It is so surreal. He feels like his guts are going to come out of his mouth. His heart is pounding, not fast, but hard. He can feel it in his throat. But, as Dirk slides his lips down the side of Dave's dick, wet and drooling, he feels his whole lower body pulsing hot.
He does want this, so bad. He tries to show Dirk that, smoothing Dirk's hair from his eyes and holding it back. Dirk keeps kissing and sucking at the shaft, then lays his head on Dave's thigh and slides his hand up through his own spit. Dave feels it down to his toes.
Dirk shifts down further, tugging Dave's hips along with him until Dave is sliding down the headboard and onto the pillows properly, a hot body between his legs. He feels Dirk's intent everywhere their skin touches, there is no need for words.
A hand presses Dave's dick flat to his own belly, and then he licks Dave's tight, drawn-up balls. Dave lets out a very stupid whine, thighs straining against his bunched up pants. Dirk curls his hand back around properly and squeezes, thumbing the wetness starting to drip down.
This is not what Dave is used to. This is not how he handles his own sword polishing time, and not how any of his girlfriends had ever done this. It is so un-experimental, like Dirk knows exactly what he wants to do, and whatever it is, he is going to make Dave come from it. His hand strokes Dave slowly, and kisses and licks at Dave's balls. He fits them in his mouth and sucks so gently Dave wants to kick him. Instead, his hands come up to grip his own hair, and he whines.
Dirk draws away from Dave's balls and finally, finally starts pushing Dave's dick through the ring of his lips. Dave feels so wet between his legs—slick with spit and sweat, the sheets under the small of his back soaked with sweat and they've done practically nothing. It's so hot. His feet tangle in the sheets and he whines as Dirk sucks faster, twisting his wrist as he meets his own lips. Dave's balls ache. His heart races and his throat is tight.
"I'm gonna, ahh, I'm, I'm gonna come…"
Dirk's eyes glint back at him from his lap, cheeks hollowed obscenely, and Dave shivers and gasps wetly and comes. He squeezes his eyes tight as it shoots through him, electric, skin singing.
When he can look again, he realises that Dirk had pulled back. He has come on his chin and in his hand. Dave flails and gets him tissues with heavy arms.
He sits up and tugs his pants back on properly, feeling broken channel snow in all his limbs, and watches Dirk clean up. When he finally manages to drag his eyes up from Dirk's extremely obvious boner, it's to Dirk's steady gaze. Fuck, he totally saw him looking.
"You freaking out?"
"I wouldnt exactly blame me if I were, but uh. Are you?"
"No. I... enjoyed that. A lot. Yeah, shut up. We can stop, though, you know."
Dave shakes his head and forces himself to move, to drag Dirk down into his arms. He kisses Dirk again, and tastes bitter come, feels extremely dirty as he chases the taste of it out until Dirk only tastes like their spit. Dirk's hips are moving very slightly, grinding softly into his leg.
"Okay," Dave manages, pulling away. He can feel the magnetic pull of Dirk's mouth so close to his, fails to resist it once, twice, then hides in Dirk's neck. The rhythm Dirk is pushing into him with is making him flush. "Do what you want…"
Dirk rubs his back. "What do you think I want?"
"I dunno…"
"...Give me your hand," says Dirk. Dave does, not moving his face from its prime location in Dirk's neck.
Dirk squeezes his hand, and Dave squeezes back. Then Dirk guides it between his legs and presses it into his clothed erection, not that the thin fabric is doing much. Dirk's hand stays covering Dave's, but it relaxes, lets him explore a little.
Goddamn. Dave has no idea what to do. He squeezes at it, feeling out the length, finds the head and rolls the centre of his palm over it. There's something so foreign about the weight and heat and dampness of another guy's dick. Maybe he makes a sound.
They shift wordlessly until Dave is flat on his back and Dirk is crouching over him. Dave's amazing neck real estate has not been compromised. Seriously, he is thinking of moving in here, raising a family. Fucking the family. His guts roll again. But Dirk smells so good and feels so perfect against him.
Dirk leans heavily on Dave for a moment, and then his pants are coming down under Dave's fingers, and Dave grabs his dick as it emerges, squeezing it.
"Isn't this too dry," he mumbles into Dirk's neck.
"Umm."
"Man." He knew he'd be shit at this.
Dirk sits up, heavy on Dave's thighs. "Just spit," he says.
"Come back here and stop staring like a creep," Dave complains as he does so.
"Oh, pot, I didn't know you'd already met kettle."
"S-T-F-U," says Dave, as Dirk leans back down. He pumps Dirk's dick, unable to see what he's doing, and his heart spikes when Dirk gives a shaky breath in his ear.
Dirk's hips start to move. Dave figures out that simply curling his fist into a tight tunnel above his own stomach and letting Dirk fuck it is very successful. All the fucking gold stars. He holds as still as he can, heart jumping as Dirk makes breathy sounds and his hips work faster. His hair is in Dave's face and Dave prickles all over with his sweat. Dave's own clothed legs are squeezed together by Dirk's knees. He touches Dirk's back with his free hand, runs it down Dirk's arm. His mattress is squealing obscenely. His whole body is jolted by the way Dirk is fucking down. God, Dirk is so...
Dirk rears up, locks his arms, and starts going harder, his face tight. Dave touches his chest, presses his palm down and tries not to freak out, because with his eyebrows knotted and lips shiny and parted and face flushed Dirk is so fucking...
"God, Dirk," he says, unable to stop himself, "you're so hot. Come on, you can do it, you're nearly there, I wanna see it…"
He watches, feeling his own body throb as Dirk's jaw locks shut, then falls open with a series of high gasps. Dave's mostly-numb hand floods with sticky come. He stays still as Dirk sinks down, still rubbing into his slick fingers, slowly now. Dave squeezes, and shivers as Dirk's whole body trembles against his.
Dirk finds his mouth and licks across his lips, kisses him and humps him and shakes.
When he is still, Dave extricates his sticky hand, and does his best to clean up with the tissues he can reach.
He jumps as Dirk's hand pats his groin, and yeah okay, he is not completely soft after that, but he is too tired. Tired and stressed and wired and euphoric and drained. He lets Dirk knead at his dick through the cloth for a little, lets Dirk lick his tongue.
Then he pulls away. "Ain't gonna happen again," he says.
"I know," says Dirk. "I just… God."
"Thank you," said Dave. "I… I know I probably wasn't any good at that. Like. Dude."
Dirk is quiet for a bit, and Dave worries. Then he says, "Please don't kill me, but. It's actually really cute." Dave punches him in the nipple. "Agh fuck you, asshole."
"Well that's what you get."
They laugh, then breathe, then kiss some more.
"God… I can't stop," Dave says into Dirk's mouth.
"It's very convenient that we live together, then."
"Ughhh. We should talk about this." Dave stops himself from rambling. It's nearly painful.
"Well, first thing on the table: nobody is ever allowed to know."
"Oh damn," says Dave, "and here I was ready to call up Bro and tell him all about it." Dirk pinches Dave's hip. He swallows a squeal and bats him away. "Seriously, though. What even is this?"
Dirk's hands are dragging up and down his back.
"Can I touch your butt while we talk about this?" asked Dirk. "I think it would be conducive."
"S-sure."
Dirk slides a hand under Dave's sleep pants and squeezes his ass. Dave arches in surprise at how good it feels, his dick starting to wake up again for real.
"It's probably fucked up, but I'm insanely attracted to you," Dirk says.
"Uh, yeah, ditto."
"I don't think we should. Like…"
"Like, make it a big thing right? Cause like…"
"...It'd just be a bad idea. You're my awesome bro. Adding righteous fornication into the mix shouldn't…"
"...Yeah, ah, we don't have to be all serious. We are two hot single dudes, like why not…"
"Yeah!" Dirk punctuates with a slap that makes Dave gasp and laugh into his chest. "Why not just have some fun?"
"God, I am so fucking glad we are on the same page."
"Can I suck you again?"
"Fuck, whenever you like bro, any time, any fucking time…"
Dave discovers that blowjobs are even more fun with his pants off entirely.