Your name is Dave Strider. Currently you are with your friend, John Egbert, and he is going off on how great some dumb movie is. You don't actually know whether or not the movie is bad, but knowing John, it probably is. You scoff a bit at his excitement, and he grins in return. Keeping cool is surprisingly extremely difficult around him, and you're not really sure why. You try not to dwell on it and continue your bantering about how homosexual John is for Nicolas Cage. What the fuck, he's not even a good actor at all anyway. Cal could win more oscars than him. Or grammys. Emmys? You don't even fucking know and you don't even care.
This is your first time at his house. It's weird, you've known him for a long time via PESTERCHUM, and yet his house is foreign to you. You look around as you both walk towards his home, and far as the eye can see, there are boring perfect suburban houses in a boring perfect suburban town. How does John even know which house is his? Back in Texas, in the big city, your tall aparment complex is as visible as a good record in a music store. Not only because it's, well, tall, but your bro has the place swagged out to the MAX. One day you'll take John there, you think. You instantly take back that thought, remembering all the fucking dick-nosed puppets everywhere. John would be all over those soft plump plush asses, and probably forget about you. So, maybe he'll visit your house hopefully never.
You arrive at his house and in reality, there's nothing special about the front. You notice the weird green wobbly thing and John asks if you wanna sit on it. You ponder if saying yes would be more funny and ironically cool than just being aloof and saying no outright. ...It looks kinda fun, and the thought of rocking back and forth on the happy, slimey looking fella is a bit tantalizing, so you say sure, why the hell not.
You both walk over there and John watches you as you straddle the ghost. You stare at him emotionless while you rock back and forth, causing John to laugh at the sight. He says he can't tell if you're having fun or not so you throw up some rock horns. Fuck yeah. He runs behind you and shoves your back so hard that the slimey green monster's nose touches the grass and you almost fall off. It's fucking exhilerating, and you start laughing as you try to fix your jostled hair and sunglasses. "You're too fucking much," you say, "I'm done. Tell me how much of your free time you waste on this hell of a rude ride."
John leads you inside of the house and shrugs, grinning. "Probably at least 5 times a day."
Sure. You look around the inside of his house. It's spacious, that's for sure. There's creepy-ass clowns snarking at you from every direction, and you shiver a bit. Still better than phallic puppet probiscus, you guess. Both of you pass by the kitchen and you see John's dad. Extremely normal looking guy. Kinda figures. John tells you to shoosh because he doesn't want his dad to bother you, but it's far too late, businessman saw you guys on the other side of his baking project and is asking John to introduce you. You look at him, unsure of what to do. He pulls a DISGUISE out of his sylladex and quickly throws it to you, telling you to run. He hisses at his father and makes cat claws of his hands and you can't help but pfffff. Disguise over your sunglasses, you notice that John's dad is taking this all in good fun and doesn't ask any further questions, but instead proceeds to try to corner his son to torture the truth out of him. You abscond to what is probably John's room. It has a bunch of lame posters and his bed is a mess, similar to yours. You see the birthday present you gave him 4 years ago, back before the game. Somehow you managed to beat the game and make it out alive, thank fucking Nicholas Cage. You sit on his bed and consider defacing one of his beloved posters, but before you get a chance to, John runs in and slams the door against the raging pounding of his father's fist. He's laughing and asks you to hurry and help him blockade the door.
Luckily, you're good at this. Living with your bro popping up anywhere and everywhere has taught you to make sure to lock your door in every way possible. You grab his magic chest and push it up against the door, afterwards you grab his chair and prop that on top. Not super stable, but a blockade's a fucking blockade. After the pounding on the door stops, you both laugh. John is out of breath from running and agressing and you feel your heart pounding from the excitement. Suddenly, John gasps.
"Oh man, I forgot movie food!"
You basically don't really care, you're not that hungry anyway, but John insists on obtaining the greasy snacks. You both devise a plan to nab some Faygo and the bags of kettle corn John keeps just for movies. Anything else you can manage to grab is also welcome in this soon-to-be movie chamber. Your intricate (and also extremely original) plan involves John distracting Dad while you fill a pillowsack full of loot. Both of you un-blockade the door and on the count of three, you fucking sneak to the kitchen like a master ninja. There he is, the target to be distracted. John hand-motions to you to get to the other side of the kitchen, behind daddy-o's feild of vision. You do, and when you get there, you watch John as he screams and throws playing cards at his dad, instantly running away. His dad chases after him, fuck, it's your chance, and you raid the SHIT out of the fridge and cupboards as fast as you can then quickly run upstairs. Wait, holy shit, his dad outsmarted you both and is waiting in front of John's door. You panic and immediately abscond in the opposite direction, John's dad lunging after you. You run into John, nearly knocking him over. Quickly recovered from the fumble, you both silently agree to turn around and do a run-around manuver to escape the (not really) evil guardian. It's a success, and you both enter his room laughing even harder.
You don't really get exactly what just fucking happened, but it was some crazy fun shit. You're both laughing and panting and a bit tired from the stunt. Bag of snacks secured, you sit on John's bed as he boots up his computer, asking you which movie you want to watch.
"Preferably something that won't make me want to run off in the arms of death."
John rolls his eyes and picks Titanic. You raise an eyebrow at him when he sits next to you. He grabs a bag of kettle corn, and he opens it, saying, "I just want to see you cry. Have you seen this movie?"
You say no, you haven't and never wanted to, but in reality, you've seen it multiple times with your brother. He tells you it's because it's ironic as fuck but you know you both always end up sniffling a bit. The thought of Egbert seeing you cry is a bit uncomfortable and strange, because you're sure he has this image of what you're like in his head, and a dude who cries during romantic tragedies is not a part of this picture. You decide that you'll suck it up and try really hard not to think about how much Jack loves Rose and fuck dude their love is so excruciatingly pure no dude, pull yourself together! You can do this. You'll do this.
John gets up super quick to turn off his lights then sits back down next to you, both of you watching the movie from his computer screen. You have a respectable amount of distance separating you, and the snacks are kept in the middle, for easy access. You hear the rustling of the bag as John digs out handful after handful of the sweet and salty kettle corn. Once or twice your hands brush against each other while snacking, but it's not really a big deal. It's not like you're intentionally trying to pull some moves on your best friend or whatever. Fuck, the scene where Rose first meets Jack. This is usually the part where you become engrossed in the movie, and once that happens, well... You basically become the Titanic's bitch. Sniffly, emotionally involved bitch that gets physically abused and yelled at to stay in the kitchen. The Titanic doesn't even pay fucking child support for your bastard children. And you promised yourself not to cry in front of your prankster friend, which you know would tease the shit out of you if you did. So you pay attention to other things instead, and you notice things you would've never noticed otherwise. You memorize every single movie poster title and the actors listed, finish 4 cans of Faygo, among other things. You notice how John's laugh is soft, kinda more like a chuckle than anything else. You notice how wide his eyes are as he concentrates on the movie, how he adjusts his glasses now and then. You finish both bags of kettle corn with him. The Titanic just hit the iceburg. Shit. John pulls a pillow to him and hides half his face, gripping it tight. Your heart bangs, but you ignore it. Now the ship is sinking. John's eyes begin to mist up. Scenes of people scrambling into boats, to safety. The dad is separated from his wife and kids. You see John wipe forming tears on the pillow. Now the ship is in half, and Jack and Rose are hanging on for dear life. John looks fucking terrified, and you almost laugh. Oh no. No no no. Not the fucking cliche as hell "I'll never let go" shit when SHE LETS GO ANYWAY THE DUMB WHINY BITCH goddamn wait, is John sobbing? You hear him sniffling hard and his eyebrows are cinched up in such a sad way and his cheeks are rosy and wet. You cover your mouth to keep from laughing. Dude, he needs to see his face right now. So far, so good. You're not sobbing, not even close to even letting one tear fall. Hell yeah. But the worst isn't over yet. Old Rose drops the jewel into the ocean, and dreams, she's walking up the stairs, and hell to the no no no no you can't fucking do this. You strain hard but a tear forms anyway, and you use a sneeze as an excuse to wipe it away. The credits roll and you feel something warm and wet on your sleeve wait jumping jesus on a pogo stick what?
The distance between you and John has suddenly reduced to jack squat. John's still clutching onto the pillow, but he's managed to somehow end up leaning on you and crying onto your shoulder. Your intial reflex would be to laugh, but instead, you rest your head on his, letting him cry it out. His hair smells pretty good, like shampoo and something else you can't exactly place. This movie is more emotionally exhausting than anything in this universe or the trolls', you think. After a good few minutes or so, John's bawling ceased. He sits up, pretty red. From crying? Embarassment? Probably both, you assume, and decide not to mess with him about it until tomorrow. Just then he realizes you did not shed one tear (or at least none that he knows of) and proceeds to make this goofy face in shock and amazement.
"Dave, next time can you warn me about not being a human? I mean, we made friends with all those aliens, so it's not like I have a problem with non-humans or anything."
"Holy shit, did you know I'm not a human? I'm not even close to being human. I'm actually a shape-shifter. No one knows who or what I truly am. Maybe I'm not even fucking Dave. I could be your man crush. What if I was hot stud Nicholas Cage? Here to relay you a message that I want you to play my wife in my next movie, "BUTTFUCKERS 'R' US"? You'll have to grow boobs first, and grow your hair, and-" John punches you lightly, interrupting you. He laughs his chuckly laugh and you smirk. "I'm tired as hell, John. Where's the extra blankets, I'll set camp up on the floor."
"No, dude, there's enough room on my bed, don't worry about it," he responds, pushing all the trash off the bed. Is it just you or did he reply pretty quickly? You say alright and get ready to hit the hay, grabbing some sleep pants from your sylladex and a lighter shirt. John changes while you do, and you catch yourself gazing at him. His figure's changed since you were both 13. He's taller and toned, wow, is John toned. He looks up and you make brief eye contact before looking away, embarassed. Embarassed?
You both place your glasses on John's desk and settle yourself in John's bed. You're both on your backs, in a sort of silence. Not really awkward, but. You feel like you're anticipating something. John turns to you.
"I'm actually concerned that you didn't cry. Something has to be wrong."
"I never fucking cry. Dave Strider has no tear ducts. Crying is for dorks named John."
"Dave, their romance, though! Jack's undying love for Rose! The tragic, abrupt end of their blossoming passion!"
"Okay, something's wrong with you, not me." John laughs and shoves you, you shove him back playfully. Somehow you end up wrestling, and you're both laughing as he tries to pin you down, with no avail. You grab his wrists and knee the back of his knees in a way that makes him succumb to your dominant strength, but your stupid lack of balance causes you to fall with him, and your face lands in the crook of John's neck. Thankfully you're still on his bed, but as you raise your head, you notice your face is literally centimeters away from John's. Centi-fucking-meters. He's pinned down and cannot move, but not like that matters. You stare into his blue eyes and you feel... something. You can smell John's sweet kettle corn breath and you can hear how quick his breathing is. He looks up at you, and bites his lip, squirming a bit. You don't even think of backing off. His face is blushed with a soft pink and he's looking at you so pleadingly you don't know what to do, or what to think. You feel yourself lower yourself and then suddenly John's eyes close and so do yours what the fucking hell you're kissing John now. You're kissing your best friend, first time at his house, after watching the saddest movie ever and he is... kissing you back?
John's lips are crazy mad soft. That's all that goes through your mind as your grip loosens from John's wrists. His hands intertwine with your blond hair and he pulls you in deeper, kissing you harder. You reciprocate by wrapping one of your arms around his waist, the other hand cupping his face. You part his lips and he responds with a throaty moan, and all these feelings you didn't even know you had manifest themself in the form of the best makeout session of all time and space. You kiss his cheek and behind his ear, and he responds with blissful sighs and quick breathing. Then, you kiss his neck, allowing yourself to suck at it a bit and make a small, gentle bite. You hear him gasp and you feel him lean into you. This is getting fun, so you try running a hand up his shirt, but he grabs your wrist and gently pushes your hand away. You're hurt by this a bit, but he gives you soft, gentle kisses on your lips and on your cheek, so you soon forgive him.
He stops the kisses and pulls you close to him, and you hold him back. He sighs contentedly, his head snug to your chest. You are extremely happy. A little confused, but mainly fucking happy. After a few moments of silent bliss, John chuckles.
"Uh, wow, haha."
You can't help but smile. "What just happened? Man..." The sentence trails off, you weren't sure where that was going anyway. Your thoughts are everywhere.
"Dave?"
You look at him. "Yeah, wassup."
"You're gonna stay for a while, right?"
You pull him in a little tighter. "Sure." John smiles and kisses you on the forehead. Soon, you find yourself falling asleep in the arms of your best friend.
-PART2-
Your name is John Egbert. Currently you're in god tier mode as your dream self. You're flying around, exploring Dave's planet. Dave... You remember last night and the look on his face when you were pinned underneath him, he looked so scared and yet so... you don't know good words for this stuff, wanton? What does that even mean? You think you remember hearing Rose use that word to describe something. Anyways, Dave just looked cute. You touch your lips and rember how warm he was, you remember the feeling of Dave's lips on your neck and it drives you a litle crazy.
You find him playing some tracks on the ground, and you fly over to him. He notices you and grins. You end up in an awkward embrace accompanied by nervous laughter. Everything's changed, and you both feel it. Your heart is about to jump out of your chest. Dave laughs some more.
"What the fuck is with that dumb grin on your face, Egbert?"
You scoff, still grinning like a madman. "Shut up and look at yourself, dude." He steps towards you, red cheeks and all, and pulls you in for a long kiss. You bring your arms around his shoulders and feel his arms around your waist, and you savor all of this. He buries his face in your neck, and you both stand there, silent. There's a lot you want to say, but you just can't find the words or even the motivation to find the words. He kisses your neck gently and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to be lost in the sensation. Bluh. This is so cheesy and lame. You try to hold back a laugh, and you can tell Dave is humored, too. He pulls back and touches his forehead to yours, his smile slight but there. You remove your hands from his shoulders to pull off his ever-present sunglasses. He gazes at you, thinking deeply. His eyes are this insane firey red, a complete contrast to your icey blue ones. It's kinda actually fitting, you think, that in being opposites, you complete the other. You kiss his freckled cheek, and he kisses you in return.
As you're making out (for the second time!) you think about Dave's hand, suddenly finding its way up your shirt. It scared you, because his hand against your bare skin gave you the craziest chills of your life, and you don't know what to think about that. Kissing Dave is one thing, it's not like you've never kissed anyone before, but the fact that his touch made you feel so much more than you ever did with anyone else , well, it's a bit overwhelming. Dave is overwhelming personified, in fact. His presence just commands everyone to shut up and bask in his rays of glory. His aloofness gives this sort of mystery that makes you kind of want to figure him out, to get him to open up, to be serious, at least once. And he is opening up to you, alright. You're smiling into his kisses with the satisfaction that no one else will see him like this. Well, at least that's what you assume.
Your breath hitches as you feel his hand again, slipping under your shirt and over the slight curve of your side, resting on the small of your back. You break the kiss to pull away a bit, because bluh, this is different, you're feeling things you've never felt, and you're getting embarrased, and no what if dave sees? He puts his hand on your cheek and guides you to look at him, he looks distressed, confused, hurt. You bite your bottom lip apologetically, but he continues to pierce your eyes with his gaze. You can't look away.
Finally, he sighs. "Do you not like this? Is this weird? You don't have to do this for me, John. This isn't a funny prank, if that's what you're trying to achieve here." He drops his hands from you and looks away, and you can tell he's trying to keep a straight face. But his brows are knotted slightly and his lips are almost curled into a scowl. You feel a pang of guilt in your stomach. and you grab at your arm as you try to think of something to say.
"Dave, I..." your voice trails off. You don't know what's stopping you, if anything, his touch actually feels really good, it feels right, and this shouldn't be confusing. What is stopping you?
"Alright, whatever. It's fine. I'll forget about this. I'm gonna go kill some imps or find Rose or something, la-" he's cut off by your lips on his, and he's tense at first, but as you wrap your arms around his shoulders he relaxes. He makes a little "nn" sound as you decide to play it brave and part his lips with your tongue, touching his own. You don't know what you're doing at all, so you accidentally tap your teeth to his. He chuckles at your clumsiness and takes command, wrapping his tongue around yours, nipping at your lower lip a little. You're not going to let him win, so you start to suck on his tongue. He omits a throaty moan, almost a growl, and it gives you goosebumps. He pulls away and licks your lips, and when you try to regain control, he sucks on your tongue back. It feels pretty incredible. Dave's not letting you even try to win. You're whimpering, and grabbing onto his shirt hard. He grips your sides from the outside of your shirt, and you decide to let him touch you. You pull away from him and begin to take your shirt off.
"Dave, I'm sorry I pushed you away", you say, pulling your shirt over your head. "It felt too good to be true, and I guess I freaked out a little, sorry." Your sudden initiative has Dave gaping. He's looking at your torso and you grin. How can he be this cute? You grab his hands and guide them to your body, placing them on your stomach. You shudder at this contact, his hands are so warm, and so soft, almost. You pull him closer by his waist, starting to suck on his neck. You hear another sultry Dave groan drift into your ear. God this feels great. His hands wander, to your chest, to your shoulders, to the small of your back, and down farther, where he squeezes your butt. You let out a gasp and he grins. He continues to knead your bottom and you moan into his neck, embarassed that this feels so good. You press your hips onto his, and you discover that not only are you pretty hard, but holy cow so is Dave. He gasps a little at this warm contact, and then bites his lip. You kiss a trail from the base of his neck to the back of his ear as you tug at his shirt, asking permission for it to come off. He obliges and you watch as he takes off his shirt a little slowly, teasing you. You touch his bare skin and you hear another small grunt. He runs a hand through your hair.
"Hey, heir of breath, we're in dream mode. Remember?"
Another kiss on his jawline. "Yeah. So?"
He shrugs. "We could wake up and continue..."
You rub against him and he jerks a little on reflex, moaning softly. "I think we can both feel it pretty intense now, and, uh..." Your face heats up a couple degrees more. "I don't want to stop," you mumble into his chest. Again with his lip biting. What is he trying to hold back?
"What's that?" he asks, mockingly. Goddamn it. You fell right into his trap.
You mumble it again, and he replies with a "Huh? Egbert I can't fucking hear you."
You look into his eyes and quickly, you say "I don't want to stop." He immdiately smiles and you blush, regretting saying this at all. He leans to your ear.
"I don't either," he whispers, and you moan as his hand slips a little past the waistband of your god tier pjs, lightly brushing your erection. He grabs you firmly and you buck under his grip, letting out a strong gasp. He curls his fingers around you and slowly pulls up, then down. He's applying the perfect amount of pressure but Dave is just going so slow, so slow you begin to whine and thrust into his hand a little. He smirks and thumbs your slit gently, spreading your precum around the head of your dick.
"Dave, please," you whimper, pulling at his pants. He kisses you gingerly and proceeds to take off your pants. He looks at you, all of you, and suddenly you feel so exposed and so small you grab his hand, forcing it back to you, begging for his touch, his protection. He grants you the satisfaction and pumps you hard. Your knees buckle a bit as you moan loudly, digging your nails into Dave's back. He hisses in satisfaction, then guides one of your hands to his piece, asking you to take it. You do, shyly, and grip him, feeling the girth of his cock against your palm. This only spikes your desire more. He slows down on you so you can focus on him for a bit, and you do with all your might, experimenting with pressure and speed to see how to get Dave to moan and grit his teeth in sheer pleasure. He moans your name out loud and you shiver with delight. You feel yourself getting close, fuck, so close...
Suddenly, Dave grunts and stops, shoving your hand away from him. "What the fuck?" you yell, almost crying. You grab him and pull him close to kiss him and to rub against him but he maintains distance from you. You want to hit him you're so upset. Why, Dave? He kisses your forehead as you feel some tears starting to form. Fuck, that felt so good, and you were just about to-!
He traces his fingers down your lips to your chest, then creates a trail ending right near the base of your dick. You try to force him to grab you but he's got incredible control of the situation. "Dave, please!" You shout, and it's more of a demand than a request. You make eye contact with him and he has this dumb smirk on his face. The Strider smirk. Oh my god, if he wasn't so cute, you definitely would have socked him in the eye by now. He kisses your neck, and even though it's a pleasant gesture, the pressure that has been building up is slowly beginning to waver. You sigh in discontent. He laughs at you.
"What?", you snap. Or whine. Or groan. Probably a mix of the three.
"Wait," he says, sharply. And that's all he says. He runs his hands through your hair and touches your nose with his. You can feel the heat radiating from him, hear his slight panting. He sits you down and then sits next to you, continuing his gentle displays of affection. You stop pouting long enough to smile at him. He places a kiss on your chest, then looks up with a scary evil grin on his face. Wait, what? Holy crap, Dave has to be planning something, he has this gleam in his eyes, and oh no this is not good.
He kisses you hard, pushing your back to the ground. You make a tiny squeaking noise as you see his head lower, and then WOAH HIS MOUTH IS ON YOUR
Your dissappearing boner suddenly reappears faster than you can say Dave's name. Which you do anyway, practically screaming it into Derse's atmosphere. One of your hands grabs onto his head while the other clutches at the ground, searching for something, anything to grip on. Dave is inexperienced, duh, but the sheer thought of his tongue pleasuring you makes you writhe in bliss. His hand grabs what he can't fit into his mouth and sooner than you know it you come hard into his mouth. Wait, oops. Dave coughs a little and sits up, your seed dripping out of the corners of his mouth. You hurry and wipe it off, and see him swallow what he had in his mouth. A strange noise gurgles out of you in response. He laughs, a little at you, a little out of embarassment.
"You should see your face, you look like you just finished watching triple x hardcore porn. One where there's five people involved and shit you've never even seen before, and they even tried to incorporate some sort of plot into it, where the climax of the story is LITERALLY the climax, an-"
You cut him off by giving him a soft, long, kiss. After pulling away you realize just how hot your face is, and you look at Dave, he's blushing too. He also looks a bit uncomfortable, he's biting his lip, and just now you realize that he just got you off while he left himself high and dry. Bluh, what a loser. You feel bad and then you feel want, and you know just what to do after that. You straddle him, poising yourself over his lap. His eyes widen with surprise, and then you realize you should've thought this over. This is actually kinda scary, what you're about to do.
"Egbert, uh, are you sure this is going to be okay, I mean..." He trails off as he watches you spit onto your hand and grab his cock. You stroke him slowly as you open his mouth with your fingers, a silent suggestion for him to suck on them. He does, closing his eyes and growling deep in his throat. You shudder with pleasure, and this eases a lot of the fear going through your veins. You pull your fingers out of his mouth, covered with his saliva, and wipe it on yourself. You push all reason out of your thoughts and brace yourself as you lower onto his cock. You bite the inside of your lip with pain even though you're only a little ways down, and Dave supports you so you don't fall and hurt yourself immediately. He kisses your chest more and more, gently, combatting the pain from this new experience. "Relax," he whispers, again and again, until you manage to relax fully, and take him inside you. You let out a strangled gasp as he grunts, gripping your sides hard.
He doesn't move as you clench your fists in discomfort, and instead slowly wraps his arms around your back. "Goddammit John you are so fucking tight, this almost hurts a little bit," he groans softly. "You need to relax a little more, it'll feel better for you and for me. You'll be okay, John. You're safe. I'll make sure you're okay." He repeats these reassuring words over and over into your ear and you feel your body slowly releasing tension. "Good boy," he growls, and suddenly you feel a tiny shiver of pleasure. Then he starts moving, pulling out a little, then pushing back in. You gasp at the strange feeling of Dave inside you. He pulls out a little more this time, and when he pushes back in you feel him brush against something that makes you jerk a bit. He notices this and smirks, making sure to hit the same spot again. You whine as he gradually builds up speed, and hits that spot repeatedly. He's moaning your name again, deep, gravelly moans, and you can't help but moan too. You've recovered your hard on and learned something new: buttsex is actually pretty nice. You start moving with him, so more of him brushes against that spot, and you can't help but squeak a little as he pushes into you, hard. He grips your sides harder and manages to say, between heavy breaths, "John... I'm gonna..."
And he does, and this feeling of warm liquid fills you, and you can't help but look down in embarassment. He pulls out, brushing your spot once more, and you blush when you see his semen drip from your backside. Your embarassed feelings quickly escape you as he starts jerking you off fast, and you inhale sharply as you come, again. Exhausted, you lay down next to him, and he wraps his arms around you. You both quickly fall asleep, waking up in your bed in the exact same position.
Waking up, you both realize you came in your pjs while you slept. Fuck.
AN : :) fangs to u
