"The fuck are you doing?"
You came to the common area to stretch your legs and maybe get some alone time somewhere besides your room, not counting on anyone being there, especially not any douchebag Striders.
But there he is, sprawled across the sofa in all his assholery, holding some sort of tablet device in his hands. Dave looks over his shoulder in your general direction.
"Reading," he says flatly.
You lean against the back of the couch, trying to get a better look at his gadget.
"What the fuck is that?"
"'S a Nook. Rose made it for me."
"What in the shitloving fuck is wrong with you?" you sputter, completely taken aback. Who the fuck just says something like that?!
"Dude, what's your problem," he asks, but not really.
"My problem is that you seem to have no fucking sense of decency!"
He pauses a moment, apparently thinking back on what he said. Of course he has no idea what he did wrong, the fucking idiot! Eventually, though, he seems to realize his mistake.
"Oh yeah, isn't a nook like a troll vag or somethin'?" And he actually sounds amused!
How can he be so fucking nonchalant? You bury your burning face in your arms, muttering a "God you are so fucking stupid."
"Hey dude, not my fault this thing has the same name as your lady bits," and you can swear you hear a smirk behind his words, but when you peek out from over your arms Dave's face is as infuriatingly neutral (and punchable) as ever.
"Okay, first of all, trolls don't have 'lady bits', we're all the same down… there." You were going to chew Dave out for his cultural insensitivity, but you find yourself growing bashful on this topic of conversation. Still, you refuse to back down. "I'd think you of all humans would know that," bite returning to your voice.
"What would make you think that?" he asks, and he actually seems mildly surprised.
"Well, I would assume that you… and Terezi—"
"No way dude, I told you me and Terezi are just friends," he chuckles.
"Yeah, but I figured you were lying," you retort, not quite sure why you're even having this conversation in the first place. Thankfully, Dave shuts up. Temporarily, at least. Of course he has to open his stupid mouth again.
"So you're tellin' me that trolls have both."
"Oh. Y-yeah. We do, I guess."
He seems to think about this for a moment, then nods.
"Cool. I could get behind that."
You feel yourself flush at the implications behind that statement, sputtering out an undignified "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
This time he really does smirk up at you, face smug behind those idiotic shades.
"I'm just sayin' I'd fuck a troll." Your face burns even brighter at that.
"What the fuck?" you screech, completely mortified at the turn this conversation has taken. "Wow, thanks for sharing that with me, I totally wanted to hear that!"
"Bet you did," and god his face is just so fucking infuriatingly arrogant and everything he says makes you angry and really, really…
…kind of turned on.
Fuck, no, you are not going there, not right now. You'd be lying if you said you'd never thought of Dave while you were jacking off, picturing his mouth biting at your body, his rough hands gripping you firmly, his…
No! Fucking no. You are leaving. You are getting the fuck out of here and returning to your room, locking your door, and pailing yourself silly until you can't see straight, because this is just getting ridiculous.
"I'm just gonna leave now," you grumble, but Dave catches your wrist just as you're turning away.
"C'mon dude, you know you want the d."
"I don't even know what the fuck that means." You can't even muster up the energy to put any anger behind your words, too focused on suppressing your arousal until you get back to your room, but Dave's hand grasping your wrist is making that pretty hard to do.
"Get over here, dude," and he scoots over on the couch, patting the space next to him. You notice that the Noo—reading device—is nowhere to be seen; he must have captchalogued it a while ago.
"Why should I?" You have a decent idea of what he's playing at here, but you're still pretty sure this is just some elaborate prank. What if he's trying to seduce you, get you vulnerable, make you confess your lust for him, only to laugh in your face and call you an idiot and—
"Trust me," and he actually sounds… kind of genuine? Just a little bit, a hint of condescension still lingering, but for a Strider it's a pretty big step towards sincerity.
You decide you may as well just go for it at this point, so you step around to the front of the couch and flop down on the cushions, Dave's hand still loosely holding your arm.
"Look, Strider, I don't know what you—"
You're cut off as he pulls you forward and presses his lips to yours. You tense for a moment before relaxing into the kiss. It actually feels pretty nice. It's not at all rough like you expected, but if this is the way humans do it, then you guess you're pretty okay with that.
Dave moves one hand to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair to pull you just a bit closer before breaking the kiss.
"What… what the fuck, Strider," you breathe out, a little lightheaded.
"This is what you want, right?"
"Well… yeah," you admit, and you feel kind of stupid saying it, but your bulge is already coming out to play and you can feel your nook clench in anticipation. The thought of actually doing… something with Dave sends a sudden wave of intensity through you, like a punch to the gut.
You sort of expected this to be a little blacker than it's currently turning out, but you remind yourself that humans don't really do black romance, at least not in the same way trolls do.
Dave is back on you in a heartbeat, pressing his tongue against your lips, and you open to let him in. The feeling of his tongue sliding against yours is enough to make you let out a moan, which he reciprocates with vigor.
He gently grabs your lower lip between his teeth and bites down carefully, causing you to make more embarrassing noises. You try to hold them back, but he just pulls you into his lap and drags his lips away from yours.
"I wanna hear you," he mutters, then starts pressing kisses along your neck.
"Oh god," you choke out. He's biting a little, just barely pressing his teeth into your skin, and it's not nearly enough to hurt but it feels so good and you let out another moan. Then he sinks his teeth down hard, and you whine loudly. He couldn't possibly hope to break skin, but now he's sucking at the spot and you can feel a bruise forming, the hints of pain lighting up your nerves. His tongue flicks out and licks at the tender skin, and a sigh works its way out of your lungs.
"Yeah, like that, perfect," he mumbles against your neck, one hand trailing up and down your back, the other still tangled in your hair. He's starting to rock up against you, and you can feel his hardened bulge pressing against your nook through layers of denim.
"Oh my god, Dave," you gasp, and he pushes you down, onto your back, still sucking red marks all over your neck. His hands fly to the hem of your shirt, fingers inching under the fabric.
"This good?" and you're surprised he's actually asking.
"Y-yeah," you manage to breathe out. He pushes his palms up your abdomen and over your chest, his hands just cold enough to soothe your burning skin without being too much of a shock. He presses his fingers into your muscle, massaging gently, before cupping his hands around your ribcage. When they brush past your grub scars, you shudder.
"I wanna see what's goin' on under here," and he pulls up your shirt. You help him get it the rest of the way off, and as soon as it's out of the way, his mouth is latching onto your collarbone, sucking more bruises into the skin.
He pulls back for a moment to survey your body, and you feel self-conscious under his gaze. But he seems to like what he sees, and he fixates on your grub scars, tracing his fingers along them and watching you twitch and moan under him.
"Dave…" you whine, "please…" and you're not even sure what you're asking for, but you know you want more from him.
He starts kissing his way down your torso, nipping lightly along the way, until he reaches the hem of your pants. He grips it tentatively, looking up at you for approval. You nod, lifting your hips to help him get them off.
"Oh, wow," he says, lightly rubbing your dripping nook through your already soaked boxers, "you're so fuckin' wet." He sounds almost awed.
You try to grind down into the too-gentle touch, but he pulls back and you groan in disappointment.
"Hang on," he says, sitting up to remove his shirt, then his pants, and finally his sunglasses. His bulge is visibly straining against his briefs, and the sight of its outline through the fabric just makes yours writhe with more enthusiasm.
You reach an arm out to lace a hand into his hair and bring him back down to you. He complies, kissing you firmly on the lips before lowering himself to between your legs. He tugs at your boxers and asks, "Can I?" You voice your approval in the form of a pleased hum, and he removes the stained article with no hesitation.
He stares at your bulge and nook for a moment before resting his head on your thigh and whispering, "Whoa." You are arrested once more by self-consciousness, worried that he'll flip out any second over your weird alien biology and fucked up mutant genetic material. Those fears leave you as he presses a kiss to your hip and repeats, "Whoa."
You crane your neck, trying to get a better view of him. He starts pressing more kisses to your hip, then down your thigh and back up, inching closer and closer to your nook before stopping completely.
"You're amazing," he mutters, gazing up at you earnestly. You blush, if it's possible to do so any more than you already are.
"That's not true," you mumble.
"Fuck yes it's true, are you seein' this shit?" he counters. You sigh, not bothering to argue.
"Lemme… lemme taste you," he says suddenly.
"What?!" you cry in surprise.
"Dude, it's okay, it'll be good," he assures you. "'Sides, I don't have freaky teeth like you guys do. I'm not gonna bite you, promise."
You guess that sounds okay, at least right now when your bulge is thrashing in the air, searching for contact, and your nook continues to squeeze out more fluid. "Okay, alright, fine."
"Awesome."
Then his mouth is on your nook and—oh, oh god, he's licking you, his tongue working in long, languid strokes and a low, primal sound rips through your vocal cords. He traces the folds of your opening, then drags his tongue up to your bulge, pressing a small suckling kiss to its base.
"Fucking—Dave!" you shout, and he hums against you, sending vibrations jolting through your body. "Oh my god, oh god, oh fuck…" You're talking nonsense, strings of profanities and yesses and pleases spilling from your lips.
And then he's pressing the tip of his tongue against your opening, thrusting shallowly and you scream, and it's nothing like what you imagine when you're by yourself but it's so much better, it's so much fucking better.
After teasing you for a while, he plunges his tongue in, and the sensation is almost too much to bear, but then he pulls out and you whine, "Dave, please, oh god," and then he's thrusting back in and it's perfect it's so fucking perfect and oh god yes…
You bring a hand down and knot it in his hair, pulling him closer, aiming for more, trying to push him deeper, and the way he twists and flicks his tongue, pressing it against every spot he can reach inside you and you swear you're not going to last much longer—
"Dave! Fuck, Dave, I'm gonna, oh god, fuck!"
But he doesn't stop, he just keeps thrusting his tongue in and out of you, curling it every so often, moaning into you and that's it, you're gone, genetic material is spurting out of your bulge and pouring out of your nook onto Dave's face, and he just takes it, he swallows it down and continues to stroke you with his tongue and the waves of ecstasy crash over you again and again until there's nothing left and you're a panting, sweaty mess and he's pulling away and wiping his face with the back of his hand, but it doesn't do much except smear the genetic material even more and he doesn't even fucking care, that sick bastard, is he smiling?
You come down from your orgasm slowly, breathing heavily until you feel like there's enough air in your body. Dave leans over you and plants a single kiss to your lips. You grimace at the taste of your fluid, but it's not… terrible.
"So?" he asks, arrogant smile back on his face, but you think you can see a hint of affection there as well.
"Holy fuck," is all you can manage to say, and he smiles even bigger.
"Told you it'd be awesome." You smack him on the shoulder half-heartedly before something occurs to you.
"Did… did you get off, too?" He glances to where his underwear is pulled to his knees, weird human bulge hanging between his thighs, splattered with his white genetic material.
"Oh yeah," he chuckles, kissing you again, "you bet I did."
"So, uh…" Now that your mind is a little clearer, the weight of what just happened hits you, and you're suddenly filled with dread. "What… what do we…"
"This doesn't have to… change anything," he says, but he sounds about as uncertain as you feel. "I mean, you still piss me off, dude."
You can't help but laugh a little at that. "You piss me off, too."
"Glad to hear it. But… I guess I could enjoy your company a little more."
"Yeah… yeah, I guess that could… be a thing that happens." You swallow nervously. "Will… will cuddling be involved?" you ask hesitantly. He laughs fondly.
"Whatever you want, dude." At that, you hold out your arm in a beckoning motion.
"C'mere," you command. He grins and flops down on top of you, forcing from you a breathless 'oof', then rolls onto his side against the back of the couch.
"Alright, you asked for it. Commencing epic Strider cuddles." He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you onto your side, massaging your back soothingly. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and leave a few kisses there.
"This turned out a lot redder than I was expecting," you confess.
"Hey man, we don't have to put a label on anything if you don't want to."
"Right, yeah, I—cool," you manage lamely. Dave pulls you closer, holding you tighter against his chest, and hums with satisfaction. You relax there for a while, almost drifting off into sleep when Dave suddenly tenses, jolting you back into consciousness.
"I never gave you the d," he says as if he's just had some massive realization.
"…What."
"Eh," he mumbles, settling back against you. "It'll have to wait for next time."
"Next… time?"