A/N: Not really AU, but uhh… they're just a bit older. Between twenty-one to twenty-four years old. And if you haven't noticed, this is an incest-story. If you don't like incest, then don't read. I don't want someone suddenly barge in and tell me how disgusting I am for shipping them. Get a freaking life for god's freaking sake.
Summary: 'Until next time, dear brother.' The words echoed in his head like a broken record, and he wondered when it was the last time he heard her talking. His ears could only hear the sounds of her moan, pant, groan, hiss, and scream. Dave/Rose.
Their encounters had always been silent and secretive. No words to be exchanged, no lingering gazes, not even the slightest hint of physical contact occurred when they arrived at a cheap motel far away from home. Her mother didn't ask because she said she was going to visit a friend, and Bro didn't ask him because it's not cool.
He had always been the one who booked the room. She had always been the one who waited outside the motel with arms-crossed. When her phone rang, she knew that it was her cue to get in. She didn't have to pick it up, because hearing his voice didn't make any of them feel better, and he never spoke even if she were to answer anyway. It was their first-unspoken rule to not speak to each other; now it's more like a battle of who's going to last until the end. They both knew there would never be a winner though, as they hated losing as much.
They loved to bicker with each other in public occasionally. Their friends thought that they did what they did because they were, in fact, siblings. They're too similar with each other that sometimes, they had to get everything out through speaking instead of hugging each other like normal siblings would. John knew that it wasn't their thing to hug each other, Jade was aware how far they could go if they started fighting, but none of them knew or aware of the fact that they fought because they missed each other, because they never spoke to each other when they're alone.
When the door closed, they knew that there was no turning back. His jacket and shades had been taken care of; placed neatly on top of the nightstand, while she carelessly threw her purse and head band somewhere across the room. He didn't bother or care to look, because by then, his lips were already busy sucking and devouring her soft demanding ones. She had always been an excellent kisser; the taste of grape on her slightly-chapped lips made him craving for more, and the way her tongue wrestled with his sensually made the blood in his veins ran toward a lower part of his anatomy, much to his shame.
Dave groaned into her mouth before hoisting her up by the waist. Her legs—smooth and creamy and simply perfect pair of legs—wrapped instinctively around his waist, while her hands went to his hair. Rose had a thing for his hair, he observed, so he never bothered to comb or anything, since she would always make a mess out of it. She grabbed a lock of his golden hair and yanked it down almost painfully, making him groan in response before devouring her lips more hungrily and passionately than before. His tongue skimmed across her teeth, the insides of her cheeks, her lower lips, and gave gentle bites every once in a while.
She ripped his t-shirt apart with her finger nails without hesitation, scratching his back and made him yelp in surprise. He looked into her eyes and found them sparkling with mischief, without any feeling of guilt or sorry. She tilted her head to the side and smiled sweetly, feigning innocent and playing little games, but he decided not to care and threw her on to the bed.
Her hands reached back to unzip her skirt and kicked them down her legs quickly. Dave removed his torn black t-shirt and crawled on top of her once again; their lips connected once more as his fingers fiddled with the buttons of her thin white shirt. He contemplated on tearing it apart just like what she did to his clothes, but decided against it, since Rose wasn't all that pleased with him ripping her underwear the last time they did it.
A grin made its way to his face as he tilted her head slightly to get a better access to her neck, nipping and kissing his way down to her collarbone and breasts. His fingers worked on the claps of her bra professionally and threw it over his shoulder. Dave leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing, and this was the part where she became loud.
She gasped and inhaled sharply as his tongue circled around it, her back ached and her fingers encouraged him to go further. She didn't realize that one of his hands were already inside her panties until he pushed her down the bed and palmed her center, eliciting a loud shaky moan from her lips. Rose bucked into his hand, and he was more than willing to comply.
Soon, all the layers had been removed and they're both stark naked. It was then that he decided to lose the mute game, but not because he admitted his defeat.
Dave settled himself comfortably between her legs, the tip of his erection pressed against his wet center, and she bucked impatiently against him. His lips curved into a sly grin that caught her breath in her throat, and he's looking at her through half-lidded eyes that sent shiver down her spines. She knew that look, had been familiar with it since the first time they did this, because back then, the game hasn't even started, but there's no way that he would—
"Beg." Suddenly his face was buried in the crook of her neck, his tongue lavishing every sensitive skins it could find, but the lower part of his body—the part where she needed and wanted to move the most—was frozen solid. She tried to buck up again, but the attempt was futile, and she groaned, glaring at the ceiling through her lashes.
He was grinning now, and even though she knew that he needed this just as much as she was, to feel complete and perfect all over again, she knew he wouldn't give it to her until she beg. Rose bit her lips and spat; "Never."
There's a deep, seductive chuckle before he pushed into her, ever so slightly, watching her face changed in pleasure and frustration, before pulling back.
"God damn it Dave—"Rose hissed sharply under her breath and tried to push him down onto her once more for more friction. He still refused to move. Fuck him and his cockiness.
"Dave, please—"and before she could even finish her sentence, he thrust hard and deep into her, making her moaned shamelessly in pleasure. Her eyes rolled back and she arched her back toward him; her breasts pressed flush against his toned chest and her heels dug into his backside, begging him to thrust deeper. He pulled back and shifted her up slightly before slamming back harder and deeper, letting a muffled groan escaped his lips in the process.
In that moment, they felt nothing but pure unadulterated pleasure, warmth, and complete, like they were only one being, and there's no such thing as Dave Strider and Rose Lalonde. With each and every thrust, she almost forgot her own name, but his name was the one she kept repeating over and over again between pants and moans. Her fingernails sank painfully into his shoulders so hard that warm blood started running down the wounds. The pain only made him more aroused and encouraged him to pound harder and faster though, and she didn't mind. That was what she wanted from him all along.
She wondered what was it from him that made her become easily undone every time they had sex. He did say that he's good in bed when they're 17. None of them took it seriously, since they're all drunk and it was too late at night. Or maybe because they're so similar, yet so different with each other, that made her attracted to him as he was to her?
Dave whispered her name huskily into her ear, a hard toss of his pelvis, the roll of her hips, and then she was done. Her orgasm came harder than it ever did and she slumped down on the bed, watching through glassy eyes as he thrust a few more times before coming down into her himself.
They were looking at each other once again. His eyes showed love and passion toward her, while hers were sad and understanding. The act alone already gave off intimate atmosphere, and Dave knew better than to hope that she'd stick around longer than half-an-hour, just like she usually did.
He slid out of her and quickly wrapped his arms around her waist; crawling to her side like some big wild cat and buried his face in her hair. Even now, her damp messy hair still smelled of lavender and conditioner. Rose turned around to face him, her lips found its way to his throat, while his started planting kisses on top of her head.
They're back to their 'no-speaking' game, and he was speaking his mind through his action. She knew what he was saying, what he was asking out of her, and thought that it's unfair how his touches and kisses always made her want to forget about everything and fuck off. He pulled her closer to him, the heat radiated off his body made her craving for his warmth, and she felt safe as he tucked her close to him like she's his most precious treasure (and maybe she was, but in Rose's mind, it was unlikely, so she brushed the thought off).
'Stay.' He didn't say it, but she heard anyway. From the way his lips parted at the corner of her mouth, but never to her lips. From the way his hand soothed her hair while the other made small circles on the small of her back. It was unfair how he could make her sigh in content and forget about everything just by touching her alone, and it was more unfair that he asked her to stay when they both knew how risky it was.
She reached for his throat; her forefinger brushed against his pulse, and drew a 'no' on it with her nail. He sighed heavily and decided to pull her closer to him instead. Arguing with Rose even when the moment was like this, calm and filled with serenity, it would simply make her leave sooner and he didn't want that.
Around twenty minutes later, Rose got off the bed and packed her things. Dave watched in fascination as she hooked the straps of her bra, her hands slid up her thighs as she wore her panties and skirt, and he swore that his erection twitched when she bent down, confusion written all over her face. He sat up and raised his brow at her, the blanket barely covered half of his naked body, but he didn't mind. She already saw everything about him for countless of times, so why bother?
When she didn't give him any response, Dave just sighed and took a pack of cigarette from the pocket of his jeans. He almost groaned when he realized that his lighter was left in the dashboard of his car, but miraculously, Rose discovered an old lighter under the bed and threw it at him. There's a slight pause before he burned the tip of his cigarette, because her head and her shoulders were under the bed now, and he got a good look at her pale legs. He suddenly felt like he's in heaven, Jesus Christ.
Rose came out a few minutes later with a pissed-off expression on her face and her white shirt on her hand. She pulled it up to her shoulder and gave him that look of accusation as if he just did something bad. Dave threw her a cocky grin, his teeth flashed under the dim light of their motel room, and she rolled her eyes.
Her skin was so pale—much paler than his, he presumed—and intriguingly soft. He remembered when he grabbed her thigh, a bit too hard than he usually did, because she was riding him and she moved so god damned slow with his cock buried deep inside of her, and he simply couldn't help it. There's a bruise and red marks all over her body afterward, but none of that seemed to bother her, so he didn't bother to apologize for the damages he had caused either.
She caught him staring and tilted her head back slightly, as if asking 'what' and daring him to say something. He just shrugged and reached over to help buttoning her shirt.
The fabric of her shirt was undeniably thin and a bit transparent, making him wondered how the hell she could stand the cold and didn't utter a single word about it. Well, she did wear her coat, but they left it in the car along with some other things, like his lighter and her headphones.
He reached the last two buttons, and he paused for a moment, admiring her skin one last time and palmed her flat stomach. Rose let out a content sigh from her slightly-parted lips; her eyes fluttered shut slowly in the process. Dave didn't hesitate to place his lips on top of hers once again, though this time, instead of unbuttoning her shirt, he was buttoning it close. Dave Strider acted like a fucking gentleman. This should definitely go into the Guinness World Record alright.
Quickly, she turned away from him once he's done, gathering her things and stopped as she picked her head band up. He didn't move when she slipped the head band on his hand and laughed, clear and mocking, and even though he's annoyed, he didn't try to remove the head band just yet and let out a small scoff. She took his shades from the nightstand and wore it, her fingers toying with the handles, and she smirked down at him.
When she left, he took a long drag out of his cigarette and inhaled longingly. She took his shades, and his head was decorated with her head band. This time, she didn't say anything, but he understood what she was trying to tell him.
'Until next time, dear brother.' The words echoed in his head like a broken record, and he wondered when it was the last time he heard her talking. His ears could only hear the sounds of her moan, pant, groan, hiss, and scream.
He took the head band off and placed a kiss on its surface, eyes fluttered shut as his own broken voice forced its way out of his throat.
'I love you,' he whispered softly. She wasn't there to hear it, but his gut told him that she already knew, and maybe she did love him back. Otherwise, she wouldn't have left what's hers and took what's his, right?
Dave closed his eyes for the last time and decided to sleep the thoughts off.
I've wanted to post this a long, long time ago! But I was worried that people might start, you know, cursing at me and stuff for posting such stories (read: incest-porn). So yeah. Leave a review while you're at it yeah?