Author's Note: I woke up today to the most delicious looking array of junkfood I've seen in this house in months; a box of full size Nutter Butters as well as minis and Double Stuff Oreos and two bags of my Honey Mustard and Onion Pretzel Piece thingies and a giant bag of Cool Ranch Doritos all displayed impeccably on the rack next to the stove — and opening the fridge revealed even more spoils! Brown Cow Coffee yogurts abound with my lovely chilled Chai tea drinks and Vanilla Chai Odwalla Protein drinks, not to mention a full gallon of milk (which is uncommon for my grandparents, who only buy in half-gallons) and two cartons of Chocolate Malt Ovaltine. My life is so made guys. Fuck yes.

Bragging aside, I think I got bitten by a spider or something. On my wrist. I fear I may lose my hand. Unfortunate, really, I quite like all my limbs. No more stories. I'm sorry, friends. Goodbye... Seriously though, I did get bitten by something, or like, broke a capillary? Though I think that would be a lot more bruise-like in appearance. It's just this big, puffy bit of skin on my right wrist. Where the hell do these bugs come from? I was fully conscious whenever this occurred, like, how do they just secretly sneak up and just bite me? They must be part of, like, a Special Ops force, get in, get the job done, get the fuck out, and don't get caught. (Sounds like somethin' Sig would say. Jak II, anyone? "Great, kid, great! Now don't get cocky.")

Meanwhile, FFF, I really don't know how you do it. I swear to Christ, you're fucking magical or something. Almost without fail, you are the first comment on a new chapter, and it both pleases and confuses me to no end because you're guest? I just. Don't understand.

And now, here it is! All your patience and stick-to-it-iveness (is that a quote from a movie? RvB, maybe, Sarge's voice is stuck in my head on this, though it does seem an older quote than I would know from RvB) is finally paying off with this chapter. This would have been out sooner except I kept having to fix bits and also school again.

Chapter Twenty-smut — I MEAN TWENTY-ONE. Enjoy ;)

It was a rare feat, even after sleep-pattern-changing broken rib, that I'd wake up before Sollux of my own accord. As if that weren't enough, I somehow managed to climb over his sleeping form without accidentally jamming my knee into his stomach and jerking him awake. It would just be my luck, however, to wake up for no discernible reason before ten on a weekend, a Saturday no less, and only just before at that. And as that thought rose in my mind, another reason to be wary of Saturday was rediscovered as it had been upon waking every day for the past week, a thought which immediately unleashed a legion of highly excited, vicious, bloodthirsty butterflies in my stomach. Or maybe locusts, for how weak my knees got. I decided a walk would calm me down. Changing and grabbing my phone, I quietly left the house and began to set a course through some backyards in my mind until I realized there was no more Trevor to be worried about being attacked by. The thought didn't comfort the fear I felt walking alone on the sidewalk.

Normally, I'd have called Kanaya at a time like this; asked her opinion, her advice. I figured my next best alternative was a fabricated response. At least, I thought so, until I realized I was having a hard time remembering her voice. I tried not to think about her again after that.

I was about halfway home when my phone vibrated.

Sollux: where are you?

I quickly tapped out a response: I went for a walk.

Him: oh

Him: are you comiing back soon?

Him: *coming. stupiid ii button

Him: *stupiid *i

Him: *STUPID

I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. Yeah, I'm on my way home now.

Him: okay. 2EE YOU 2OON, KK 3

Me: You're such a doofus.

Me: 2EE YOU 2OON.

He'd admittedly brought a smile to my face with the shitty code he used. Back in middle school, he'd made a stupid joke about how I should always type in all caps because that's how I sounded when I talked, loud and obnoxious. Of course, I'd had to make a joke about his speech capabilities because I wasn't about to let the kid with a lisp make fun of how I spoke. I said he should write all of his Ss as 2s, and when he argued why not 5s, I explained that he garbled S sounds so much that both characters S and 5 were too similar to normal Ss for his use, while 2s were practically the opposite of fives, an attribute I corresponded to the way he said them. We'd given up that method of speech by the time we reached high school, but we would still end our text conversations with a mix of the two, "2EE YOU 2OON." It was an inside joke for us alone.

The double I, on the other hand, was an unrelated fault of his current phone, the I key having cracked in two soon after he'd gotten it and now occasionally inserting an additional I when he typed, which I found hilariously fitting, despite it not occurring until long after he'd fixed the problem verbally. It was a quirky little thing that only he could pull off, even moreso considering our first ever conversation actually revolved around his inability to properly say Is.

Memories of the two of us in school kept a smile as warm as the late morning sun plastered to my face the whole way home.

Sollux was in the living room when I entered the house, stretched out over the couch with his laptop on his chest. He glanced up for maybe a full second before looking back at his screen. "Hey."

"Yo. What'cha doin'?" I asked, walking around the couch behind him. Just as the screen of his laptop became visible to me, he closed whatever window he'd had open and shut the computer. I didn't say anything, just raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Th'tuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Juth't thingth'."

"Things like...?"

"You'll th'ee."

I shrugged. "Alright."

"Follow me," he said, sitting up and leaving his laptop face down on the couch. He gingerly grabbed my hand and led me into our bedroom before sitting on the mattress, going so far as to pull his legs up and cross them. I followed suit and sat cross-legged on a pillow opposite him, our hands now resting in our respective laps. "Th'o." I doubted the single word was what he so obviously had in mind, so I waited patiently for him to begin. "How do you wanna do thith'?" A noise of realization slipped out before I could stop it, and I could feel my face heating up. No, no! I begged silently. Stop that. We literally haven't done anything yet, fuck this. I shook my head, at a loss.

"Well. Let'th' th'tart with thith', do you wanna do it now or later?" I blinked at his inquisitive gaze before opening my mouth and emitting some kind of noise that could have been perceived as "now," if one was paying attention. He smiled in what I took to be encouragement and I managed a weak half-smile back. Shit, this is too much, I think I'm gonna be sick.

"You okay?" he asked softly, leaning forward and placing a hand on my shoulder. I answered immediately with a shake of my head. "KK. Look at me." It took me a minute, but I finally got around to meeting his eyes. My breath caught and sped up at the same time and he rose his eyebrows expectantly. "KK." I think I might have whimpered at some point. "Th'ekth' ith' th'uppoth'ed to be fun. You're th'uppoth'ed to enjoy it. If you're not gonna enjoy it, I'm not gonna make you do th'omething you don't wanna do."

"No, no, I do!" I argued, cracking my voice. "I just... I-I'm just. Uh. Nerves. I'm just nervous is all."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure," I dismissed, suddenly finding his blanket very interesting.

His hand moved from my shoulder to my neck, and the simple action snapped my attention back to him. "I mean it. Are you really sure?"

"Yeah, yes-yes. Yeah. I'm sure." I nodded to solidify my point.

"Then... what do you th'ay we th'tart... like..." He trailed off as the hand that had previously warmed the side of my neck now slid down my chest, the other joining it at the bottom of my shirt and closing around the hem. I sighed hopefully, closing my eyes and jerking my head down slightly to let him know it was okay. The mattress shook as he scooted forward and before I knew it, my shirt was off and his lips were at the base of my neck, sucking gently. Before he got too far into that, I was tossing his shirt off the bed after mine and gripping his hips, wrenching him a few inches closer.

Our lips met and I lost myself in him, thinking that no matter how long he was mine, I'd never get enough of him. I did, eventually, decide I wanted something else after a few minutes, so I waited to catch him unaware then yanked upward, sliding my hands back to grab his ass as I balanced him on his knees. Just as he began to say something, I acquainted his chest to my mouth and stole in a gasp the breath he'd been going to use.

My shorter, stockier build meshed beautifully with his leaner one, and I found myself on more than one occasion admiring the way his muscles stretched beneath his skin as I kissed my way down his torso, ever mindful of each spastic shiver when my lips teased the nerves. His hands braced on my shoulders, my knees on either side of his, every move was electric, potent and heady and enough to shake the stress and worry that had been building up for a week.

I wanna say that from there, it went smoothly. If I said that, however, I'd be lying. It wasn't smooth; it was prompting realized too late and awkward over-corrections to make up for it, and skin against skin and quietly murmured "hold on"s while we repositioned ourselves. It wasn't like you saw in movies, dark, close-up scenes with perfectly bronzed skin that reflected the moonlight shining through the window, and shining hair tousled just-so for the cameras — even less so considering the time of day. It was bright enough that every scar that marked my body shimmered, white and pearly, in the sunlight, bright enough that I could see the tiniest indentations between his ribs. His eyes glowed at me when the sun hit them just right, and if my skin wasn't already burning, just a glance from him in a moment like that was enough to set me on fire.

I rolled when he rolled, pressed back when he kissed, nipped at his neck to drag out whimpers of desire, skimmed my fingers over places they shouldn't be. I hadn't even noticed when our pants came off, just one second they were on, the next, I was granted access where I hadn't been before. Then came the hard part; the rest, that was easy, that was intuitive, playing hot and cold against what I knew he liked and what I knew he didn't, reading his body and granting his unspoken wishes. But this, this was difficult, and I knew it'd be better that he was aware I had no idea what I was doing than struggling through on my own and messing up.

"Sollux," I murmured, my voice coming out dry from lack of use. I cleared my throat quietly as I could and he hm-ed at me. "I don't know what to—"

"Shh." And just like that, I was silenced. He pushed me against the blanket with a kiss and a hand on my shoulder and stretched forward, fumbling with something on the bookshelf we had shoved in the corner between the bed and the dresser. He returned to me with a vicious blush and a thin square of plastic clutched to a small bottle. I nodded at him, swallowing hard as I took them from him. He sat back and observed wordlessly as I tore open the small package. I wondered if I should have waited until later, longing internally for the cover of darkness. But I said nothing and rolled the plastic sheath over my length, trying to figure out whether or not the lustful gleam in Sollux's eyes was only my imagination.

Closing my fingers around the lubricant, I looked up at him. "What now?" He took the bottle from me and opened it with one with one hand, using the other to isolate two of my fingers.

Pouring more than I would have thought necessary onto them — then again, what do I know? — he stated with a challenge in his eyes, "Gueth'." I rose to the challenge with a grin, tangling my clean hand in his hair and tugging him on top of me, atoning for the rough action with a far more rough kiss, desperately fighting for command against his opposing tongue. Using the distraction to my advantage, I let my hand trail down his back on its side as a guide, stopping only when I'd found his tightly-furled entrance. I teased my fingers around it, the lube all but removing the resistance of my fingers against his skin.

I kissed him softer, opening eyelids I hadn't realized I'd closed, and asked the question with my eyes boring into his. "Th'lowly," he instructed faintly. Following his directions, I pushed my forefinger in as deep as the first knuckle. Within a few seconds, it was to the second. As I began to move again, he stiffened above me, biting his lip, closing his eyes, and I froze. A consecutive fast shake and nod led me to believe he wanted me to continue, so I did, driving in slower than before and watching him carefully for a signal to stop, whatever it may be. Upon not receiving one by the time I'd sunken completely in, I began to work at him with the digit, sliding in and out.

There was hardly any friction by the time I added the second finger to the mix, my attention once again trained on him and watching for signs of pain as he adjusted to the sudden drop in speed. It was a slow process, getting him used to the fingers, but we both stuck it through. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but one thought that perpetually flew through my mind was one of utter disbelief. It was still beyond me that what was about to happen, what was happening, was actually happening. Not that I had any complaints in the matter. Sollux looked fucking amazing like this, too, eyes shut tight and mouth half open, a certain ruddy tint in his cheeks and a negligible sheen of sweat on his forehead.

I captured his lips as I began to scissor my fingers. If this was preparation, two fingers alone wasn't gonna prepare him for jack shit. I swallowed his gasp and waited for him to respond to the kiss before pulling away. He turned his gaze longingly down at my mouth and snuck in another quick kiss before letting me sink into the pillow. We lay there wordlessly until I grunted in frustration. "Sollux, I'm fucking clueless, I need a bit more guidance than you're giving me."

"Oh, uh, right, um." Instead of a verbal clue, he flicked his eyes towards my arm and I realized, yeah, duh, I should probably get my fingers out of his asshole. As soon as I did, he crawled to my left and lay down, and I wasn't a complete idiot, so I took that as my cue to... er. Situate myself. I pushed his legs apart and settled between them, straightening the blanket out to look for the discarded bottle from before. Finding it, I slathered a lavish amount over my already throbbing cock and capped it again, leaning forward and resting the head so lightly against where he was already wet and open.

"Ready?"

"Mm-hm."

Pushing just inside of him, I waited for the subsequent wave of discomfort to pass before pressing on. As I sheathed myself deeper, he began fidgeting beneath me, squirming and whimpering, and when I pushed myself flush against him, his fists balled around handfuls of blanket. My hands, previously hooked under his knees, now shifted, one gliding down the outside of his thigh to cup his ass and the other grabbing his shoulder and aligning his collarbone with my teeth. His response was a briefly arched back and a low moan of my nickname. I nuzzled my face into his neck and he begged, raw need dominating his tone, "Move, KK, pleath'e, keep going, juth't move—! Ah!"

Further commands died in his throat as I bucked into him. From there, any semblance of order was lost; we moved together, keeping time far too poor to qualify as a rhythm. Everything was heat and friction, slow at first but growing steadily into breathless groans and sweat-slick skin on skin, sloppy, uncoordinated thrusts and hip-rolls and kisses. Every time Sollux moaned my name, my full name, mouth touching my ear and voice shaky on his breath, he took out another chunk of whatever it was keeping me sane, chipped away at the already sizable chink in the armor holding me together.

I adjusted my weight on my knees and, in doing so, triggered something in him, moved in a way that caused me to brush something inside him — something that drove him absolutely insane. A harsh cry accented the curl in his toes, blending seamlessly with the shaking in his knees to create a sight and sensation like nothing else. My stomach clenched and even in the midst of it, the thought that I was fucking my boyfriend seemed unreal to me, which of course only made the action that much more attractive. A surge of pleasure throbbed through my core, numbing me to the soreness of repetition in my muscles and enhancing the unfamiliarly tight pressure around my cock and the visual appeal of the skinny heterochromatic before me.

Leaning in again, I kissed and suckled at the loose skin on the side of his neck, moaning his name against his skin and trying to angle my thrusts in a way that invoked the same reaction as my accidental finding before. Upon aiming upward, I got the desired result with the added bonus of his fingers trying to break skin on my thighs. I continued to aim for that spot, mercilessly driving him closer and closer to the edge even with the knowledge that if he was going down, he was gonna throw me off the precipice with him. The hand on his backside slid up to caress him before closing its fingers possessively around his cock, stroking slow and calm, which was like the thunder rolling in after the lightning strike; rough and belated and exciting, and, knowing Sollux, just enough to send him into freefall.

His entire body shook and a low, guttural growl rose from his throat as he came, beads of white raining down over his stomach and my fingers. That visual was what did me in, added to the thick friction inside him and the pain of his blunt nails contacting my skin, just enough to let me know it was all real, all of it together broke me. The momentum was too much for me to stop when I came inside him, the movement working through my orgasm. It took a huge effort to not actually collapse on top of him, my weak, shaking arms left to somehow hold me up. I pulled slowly out of him, leaving a shuddering sigh in my wake.

Sollux rolled on his side. I rested a hand against his cheek and kissed him softly, leaning forward a bit to yank a tissue out of the box that I could clean him up a bit with. Tossing both that and the condom into the wastebasket, I lay down on his arm. He quickly wrapped the other around me and burrowed into my embrace, still panting. I kissed his forehead, licking my lips of the sweat and adjusting my grip on him. He murmured my nickname over and over into my chest, tracing shapes into my bare back with his fingers. I hummed softly, some tune I recognized but couldn't name, and ran my hands through his sex-strewn hair, mussing it up worse and not giving a single shit.

I could honestly say that, in that moment, I was completely satisfied, not a concern on my mind and pleasantly fulfilled in a completely unique way. Sollux, who lay still half dazed and entirely naked against me, muttered something I didn't catch. After a questioning hm, he repeated, "Wath' it worth the wait?"

"You are such an entitled prick," I laughed. "That was beyond worth the wait."

"Mm. Glad you think th'o."

"You're glad I think you're an entitled prick?" I sneered, knowing full-well that wasn't what he meant.

"If it meanth' I get to do that again, I'll be glad about anything you want." Oh. He snuggled into me, adding after a soft, contented moan, "You're th'o great, KK. I love you th'o fucking much and I hate that I do, th'ometimeth', but at the th'ame time I really don't 'cauth'e you're th'o good to me and—"

"Shh. I love you, too. Now shut up and sleep it off, 'cause you're fucking fuck-drunk and I'm too goddamn out of it to deal with you."

"Alright." And just like that, without so much as an taunting word, or a teasing glare, the bastard was out cold, clinging hopelessly to me and letting out tiny, happy little sleep noises. You little shit, I insulted silently. You were supposed to let go of me first.

You'd think after having read literally so much gay porn, that would have been easier to write. Of course not. Second-guessing myself after like practically every fucking sentence, "Is that realistic? Would it really take that long? Would it take longer than that? Should that be slower? Should that hurt more?" On top of that, I sat with them on the bed together for about thirty minutes with a line of red text below reading, "I wanna porn but I don't know how to porn." Fuck me, just write the damn thing and enjoy the sensation of blood rushing elsewhere.

Regardless, pretty proud of this chapter. Pretty damn proud of myself, for that matter. Review, loves :)