Here is part 3 of the Striderlove series. I will continue this as long as I feel I am able, since I know several of you enjoy it.

There is more actual story-lead-in here, so bear with me to get to the smut that I know you're really here for.

*Homestuck and all of its characters belong to Andrew Hussie.

Chapter 1

Bro sat at his computer, chopsticks hanging lazily out of his mouth as he reviewed his subscriptions and content. Business online was going really well, and he'd found that he was able to post new videos less frequently over the past couple of months while still maintaining the same revenue stream. He was delving into his dedicated e-mail account and answering messages he deemed important while tapping his right foot on the floor to a silent beat. By his calculations, he didn't need to come up with a new video and its subsequent photos for another few days. That meant he could relax and work on his other area of expertise instead, which just so happened to be a few feet away from him. Also a few feet away from him sat Dave on the futon, who had given up on his game when it glitched again and switched over to watching some terrible cartoon in its place. Bro decided that he really hadn't thought this whole "make-Dave-miss-and-come-to-him" thing through very well when his room WAS the living area that Dave was already occupying. Whatever.

Actually, no. Maybe this was better. Bro had his back to him and hadn't acknowledged him since the food had arrived an hour ago, so perhaps that would rile Dave up faster than if Bro wasn't in the room at all. Bro was certain it would, he just had to wait it out and bide his time.

Dave watched the terribly cliché group of friends going through various ridiculous shenanigans on the screen, his arms limp at his sides on the futon. This show was so over-the-top that he liked to watch it "ironically," and Bro didn't mind it, either. Dave wasn't aware that Bro really enjoyed the show and wasn't just viewing it for what Dave considered "ironic purposes," though. Bro wasn't sure Dave would ever understand the power of true irony.

Dave huffed a breath up through his bangs and tapped his fingers on the cushion. God, he was so bored. He scooted over to the end-table and dug through its drawers until he found a whetstone and some oil, then sat back and whipped out a sword to sharpen to keep himself busy.

Bro pushed his computer chair back and sauntered over to his mix tables, never looking at Dave. He reached the equipment and settled his over-sized headphones around his ears and flipped the power switches.

Dave froze when Bro got up and moved across the room. He felt himself bristle at the fact that Bro was being his normal stoic self and completely ignoring him. It was chill, he didn't need Bro to fill his entire day. A little voice in the back of his head denied that, offering up what sorts of activities they could be doing together in vivid detail. Dave paused and pulled out his mp3 player, slipping the earbuds in and hitting play. He resumed honing his blades with a steady bass keeping time to accompany his actions.

Bro messed around at his turntables, rehashing some old stuff and throwing in some new to punctuate it. He had some new material that he wanted to try out at his next gig, but he was still perfecting it. Bro chanced a peek over his shoulder to look at Dave. There was a constant shing ringing out from where he sat that Bro realized with a start melded perfectly with what he was doing. In fact, it created the sort of harmony that Bro was trying to achieve with the percussion he had mixed in, but much more smoothly. Bro smiled down at the equipment as he played with some sliders and turned a few knobs, experimenting with how the sound of the singing metal played against different tones and frequencies. Dave was completely oblivious to the part he was playing in Bro's latest brilliant idea, serenely sharpening his katana effortlessly as he watched the stone slide along the sharp edges at just the right angle.

When Bro had bought Dave his first quality sword, he had made certain that Dave understood the importance of maintaining weapons, especially concerning the techniques required to provide the utmost care for them. A good weapon was an extension of yourself, after all. If your body is a temple, then your weapon must be the huge phallic steeple extending from it to pierce the sky. That's what Dave thought, anyway.

'God damnit', Dave huffed at his subconscious. Rose was right, Dave did have a phallic metaphor for fucking everything.

At that thought, Dave turned slightly from where he was sitting to look and see what exactly Bro was doing behind him. As expected, he was hunched over his gear composing some sick beats. Dave found himself very curious to hear what Bro was mixing up this time, because that posture generally meant that Bro was in the zone. Dave's gaze wandered down a bit to Bro's ass, and he shifted slightly to get a better view. The katana he had been working on slid across his lap, and he reached out for it with his left hand without thinking. A sharp pain registered across the pad of his thumb, and he hissed out a quiet "fuuck," before yanking his hand up to his face to assess the damage. It was a very clean, precise cut. Dave stopped to appreciate what a fine job he had done sharpening the blade before frowning at the blood oozing out of the thin red line across his flesh.

Dave gently returned his sword to its proper slot in his specibus before standing up and starting to walk around the futon towards the kitchen. He had neglected to put the first aid kit up after bandaging Bro, so it still sat on one of the counters. As he rounded the corner of the futon, Bro half-turned, expecting Dave to be approaching him. Bro gave him a querulous look, and Dave halted to hold his thumb up for Bro's inspection.

Bro frowned at the cut, then leaned forward and placed his mouth around Dave's thumb. He teasingly licked the blood off, then flicked the tip of Dave's thumb with his tongue for good measure before pulling away. Dave glared at Bro through his shades. Bro leaned down again and kissed the cut softly. Dave sighed and yanked his thumb away, stomping over to the counter and pulling the ointment and a bandage out of the kit.

Bro cocked his head to the side and flipped the power to his tables off. He removed his headset and turned to face the kitchen. Dave had his back to him, so Bro sashayed over to him and firmly palmed Dave's ass with both hands. Dave finished wrapping the bandage around his thumb, then calmly spun around to face Bro. He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back against the counter. They stared at each other for a few moments before Dave unfolded his right arm and brought it down to full-bore grope Bro's crotch. Then, just like that, he let go and walked past Bro back towards the futon. Oh hell no.

Bro flashed over and held his arm straight out to block Dave from the living area. Dave stopped mid-stride and looked expectantly at Bro, who turned his arm down and his palm up. Dave looked down at Bro's open palm, then back to his shades.

"Katana," Bro ordered, waggling his fingers.

"What? Fuck no," Dave said, folding his arms across his chest again in defiance.

"Dude, relax, I'm not taking it from you, I just want to see it," Bro replied, tapping his foot.

Dave frowned at Bro, but pulled the katana out and flipped it in the air, letting Bro catch it expertly. Bro was always so mysterious. Sometimes it ruffled Dave's non-existent feathers. His subconscious told him that maybe he just didn't read between the lines enough… or that maybe he tried to read between lines that weren't even there, but his ego slapped the thoughts away and put them back in their place.

Bro plopped his headphones over Dave's head and flipped some switches, then leaned over to grab the whetstone from the end-table. Dave quirked an eyebrow at Bro, suppressing the smile that wanted to creep over his lips at the satisfying thought that Bro was going to share his work-in-progress with Dave of his own accord. He wondered why Bro wanted his katana and the whetstone, though. He had damn sure sharpened the fucking thing more than enough, as was evidenced by the band-aid covering his left thumb.

Dave bobbed his head a little to the beat and gave Bro a nonchalant thumbs-up. Bro just smirked and put his left foot up on the end-table. He laid the katana down across his thigh and brought the stone across it, making the blade sing. Dave furrowed his brow at Bro and Bro shook his head and sighed. Dave didn't always catch onto things immediately.

"Just close your eyes and fucking listen," Bro instructed. The volume was at less than half of its maximum, so Dave easily heard him and nodded slowly in agreement.

Dave let his eyes flutter closed and he concentrated on listening to the track. After a few moments he sensed Bro moving a bit and noticed a change in the mix. A few seconds more and the soft, slightly-muffled shing-ing of the blade entered the edge of his hearing. He focused on the music, and his pulse quickened as he realized giddily how amazing the sing-song of the blade was against the mix Bro had playing. So that's what Bro wanted him to hear. Dave swayed a little in time with all of it, enjoying the natural high good music always gave him. Dimly he was aware that Bro was moving again, and he felt his shades being lifted off of his face.

Dave opened his eyes to find Bro, also bare-faced, a couple of inches from him. The katana had been set down on the table with care, but the sweet shing was still layered over the music. No, not over it. It was nestled deep within it now.

Bro reached over and unplugged the headphones, letting the mix pour out of his elaborate speaker-system. Dave set the headset down. He felt exposed, surrounded, and enveloped by the music and by Bro all at once. He realized with a blush that this felt like a deeply intimate part of Bro. Bro closed the small gap between them and slowly kissed Dave with a hushed passion, sending butterflies through Dave's stomach. Dave didn't think he'd ever get used to this enough for those butterflies to completely disappear.

Bro brought his hands up to cup either side of Dave's face as he worked his lips against Dave's, fiery and needy, but gentle and somehow eloquent. Dave tilted his head to get better access to Bro's mouth and returned the kiss tenderly. The music cut them off from the rest of the world like they were in some sort of private cocoon, made by (and for) just the two of them. Dave's fingers tangled through the back of Bro's hair and he breathed in his scent like it was milk and honey and he was some goddamned starving nomad crossing the parched desert of reality.

Bro intermittently slid his tongue across Dave's lips, then returned to soft kisses, then back again, as he caressed Dave's cheeks with his thumbs. Their two separate beings combined to make a perfect harmony, and each could feel it resonating off of them as their feelings and desires pulsed around them with the music. This was a moment unlike any other Dave had ever experienced, and he felt goosebumps prickle his skin as Bro pulled back a fraction of an inch and breathed his name across Dave's parted lips. God, that made Dave melt like butter.

Dave sighed out a barely-audible moan of Bro's name and pressed his mouth against Bro's again. The sound of the music enveloping them danced across his skin and against his eardrums. Dave let his hands drop to Bro's waist and he held Bro flush to him, his embrace firm but gentle. There was something undeniably sensual here, but it was also soothing and comforting. Dave felt Bro withdraw and exhaled into the space between them in a sense of contentment.

Bro reached over and stopped the music before turning back to smile smugly at Dave.

"Pretty fucking amazing, isn't it?" Bro said softly, staring deeply into Dave's glistening rubies.

"Yeah," Dave said, unable to help the smile he felt creep across his features as he returned Bro's intent gaze.

"All thanks to you," Bro replied, leaning in to kiss Dave briefly. Dave nearly whimpered when Bro pulled his lips away again, but he kept it in and settled on squeezing Bro tighter against his body instead.

"I think," Bro started, wrapping his arms over Dave's shoulders, "that is only the beginning. If that's what it sounds like to hear your katana being sharpened, just imagine what it might sound like when.."

"It's being used in battle," Dave finished for him, realization dawning across his eyes. "Fuck," he half-whispered, losing himself in Bro's eyes. Bro's eyes twinkled as he nodded and rested his forehead against Dave's. They remained like that for a few moments, simply staring into each other's eyes and enjoying the closeness afforded by their positions respective to each other. Eventually Bro straightened up and sighed. Dave gave him a quizzical look.

"It's just a matter of figuring out how the fuck to record that," Bro said, tapping his fingers against his arm behind Dave's neck.

"Right," Dave responded, thinking it over. There wasn't enough room in the apartment to strife, obviously. Their normal battleground was the roof, but the sounds of the city were not drowned out by the stories separating the streets from the rooftop. Dave knew that Bro's equipment and software were pretty complex, and that he could probably isolate most of the city noises and remove them, but he must have already decided that such a process wasn't what he wanted to do.

Bro had been staring past Dave's shoulder, trying to brainstorm over where to do a recording session or two. An idea popped into his head and he returned his gaze to Dave, obviously pleased with himself. Dave just tilted his head.

"There's a place I've been to about an hour from here… a campground… it's fairly secluded, but it has hook-ups and free wi-fi," Bro told Dave as he pulled his arms from Dave's neck. Dave appeared to think over the implications of that statement for a moment before nodding at Bro and kissing him on the nose. Bro gingerly removed Dave's arms from him, which earned him a bit of an angry look, then tugged down on the cord hanging from the ceiling behind Dave.

Bro disappeared up the hatch quickly, leaving Dave to himself. Dave went to his room and started rifling through his clean clothes. He made his selections and threw them on his bed (still a mess) as he rummaged through his closet for his duffle bag. Dave upended it and watched a few scattered weapons tumble out that he had forgotten were in there. With a shrug he shoved his clothes inside and abandoned it to check up on what Bro was doing.

Bro was hunched over the futon when Dave came through the door, and he glanced up to acknowledge Dave's presence before returning to what he was doing.

"I grabbed my tent and a few other things," Bro said, pulling something out of a garbage bag. He frowned. "It looks like the air mattress is out-of-commission, though."

Dave leaned over the futon to examine it and shrugged. There was a hole in the side of it where time and lack of proper care had caused the plastic to crack. He didn't really care. He figured Bro would've made him inflate the stupid thing anyway.

"Piece of shit," Bro grumbled, tossing the mattress toward the front door. "Sleeping bags it is," he mused, opening another bag next to him. They looked to be in decent condition. They also smelled a little funny. Bro shoved them back into the bag, satisfied that they were acceptable. He turned and walked over to his laundry basket and plucked out a clean shirt, pants, socks, and underwear, and shoved them into the bag the mattress had been in.

Dave straightened up and looked over at Bro's sound equipment. He wondered what Bro planned on packing from all of it. Bro saw where he was looking and smirked.

"We'll be taking my most compact recording equipment," he said, standing up. "The laptop should be sufficient as an interface for now." Dave nodded, hands in his pockets, and walked over to grab his katana from the table. He turned it over in his hands and admired the glint off of the metal in silence. His eyes went up to meet Bro's.

"Let's take a gander at the rest of your collection," Bro said, sitting in the only open space left on the futon. Dave pulled up his strife deck and selected a few weapons to bring out for Bro's approval. Bro reached over the tent bag to grab the whetstone and oil. He applied a thin layer of oil to the stone and picked up one of the katanas Dave had offered him. With a smooth, practiced motion, Bro ran the edge of the blade along the stone and cocked his head. He repeated the action with the other two swords Dave had retrieved, then put the stone back and rose to his feet.

"This one," he told Dave, taking a practice slice at the air. Dave picked up the other two and tucked them away, then held out his hand for the one Bro had selected. Bro flipped it up and caught the dull side of the blade in his palm, sticking the hilt in Dave's face. Dave glared across the keen edge of the sword at Bro, then slid it back into his strife deck.

They parted ways again as Dave went to grab his duffle bag and some bedding and Bro meandered into the bathroom to grab his toiletries. Dave plucked what he needed from the bathroom once Bro had vacated it to pack his recording gear, then returned to the living area with his arms full. Bro placed Dave's shades back on his face for him, then set his own on his nose, too. Dave nodded at Bro, turned and opened the front door, and stepped out into the hallway. Bro was close behind him, and he dropped everything against the wall as he went to lock the door behind them.

"Shit! Wait," Dave said, dropping all of his stuff on the floor next to Bro's pile. Bro gave him a sour look. Dave pecked Bro on the lips as he slipped past him and back into the apartment. Bro leaned against the wall and checked his watch.

Dave reappeared with another bag slung across his shoulder a minute later. He shut the door and locked it behind him, then started gathering everything back up into his arms from the floor. Bro leaned over a little to get a look at what Dave had gone back for. Of course. That was his camera bag. Bro grinned to himself and picked all of his stuff back up, too.

They headed for the stairs once everything was back in order. Dave looked over the railing and sighed. This was going to suck especially hard. The pair of Striders descended the stairs as quickly as they dared. Bro nearly floated over them even though he was weighed down by an extra seventy pounds or so. Dave curled his lip in annoyance and flash-stepped down the last few flights. At the bottom he startled an old woman who dropped her cane in surprise. Bro appeared next to them just as suddenly. He used one foot to tilt the cane into the air, then hopped and used his other foot to launch it into one of his hands, which was just barely sticking out from under one of the bags. Bro handed it back to the woman.

"Sorry, miss," he drawled at her, all charm and silk. She stared at the two of them, speechless, and they were out the apartment building door before she had recovered enough to think to say "thank you."