Chapter Text
You've got all the ingredients for a chill night at home: a hard apple cider in hand, the comfiest spot on the couch and Dirk.
Most importantly Dirk.
Dirk, Dirk, Dirk. ...and of course a crappy movie playing in the background so you and him can pretend that you're not ravenously enjoying each other's company. Your little brother keeps yapping about his man-crush but you can tolerate it, you'll get to listen to the sound of his voice and it makes Dirk happy. What more could you want than his happiness? He's more animated tonight than usual, but the topic is pretty much the same.
Yeah, wow, so rugged and manly, like only an action hero wannabe teenage boy can be in the eyes of a love-starved twink. He goes on hikes and calls them adventures, wears combat boots every day, has lusciously thick chest hair and can shoot a gun too, what a dreamboat. He's sooooo smart and charming and funny too! Sure he's somewhat handsome, squared features and all, but he can also drink a juice box through his front teeth. There is one thing where you'll have to give it to the guy, he has the sense to be starstruck about being the bestie of the famous Dave Strider's little brother. Not that your movies particularly strike his fancy, he likes his adventure actionslop, but at least he knows what he's up against. For all of his dreamy qualities you sometimes wonder if the guy is dense or something; Dirk's advances are intensely blatant. Or you just know your brother well enough to read them as such.
You take a long sip of your drink. Crushing hard on your best guy pal, the closest guy you've got, that's as good as it gets when you like men. That desperate, one-sided pining... How could a guy Dirk has known for what, a few stupid years, come in between you two? You've known him for much longer than that (all his life in fact!) so you should be the priority, but such pesky things as genetics and social norms drop you right off his radar. How frustrating. You've been doomed to never get your affections met in kind.
And you should be glad, you should be thankful that he has not been twisted into the same kind of sick, incestuous freak as you despite living his teens with you. Maybe it's you not really growing up with him that made you this way. You hit puberty way before he even registered as a person to you and you soon after moved out on your own to study. You didn't have time to properly exclude him from your dating pool before it was too late. It really didn't help that he idolized his coolest of cool ice cold super chill big brother and gave your ego some massive stroking, oh yeah, that's why you want a different kind of stroking from him too.
Your starry-eyed kid brother turned into an absolute beauty and now has those eyes for another. How cruel. And it had to be the lamest motherfucker on the planet too, but as long as the dumbass doesn't realize he's got a supermodel down to fuck right in his own friend group, it's fine.
It's fine.
You keep telling yourself your arm flung over the back of the couch and inching towards Dirk is totally innocent. You won't do a thing, if you could only get to feel the touch of his firm shoulder muscle or bask in his body heat for just a little while... You'd be totally peachy.
Dirk drones on and you keep the tiniest, gentlest smile on your face and give a nod whenever appropriate. You're not really listening, more admiring. His cheeks that have finally started to hollow out, his jawline that's getting more defined, his thickening, masculine brows, the movement of his Adam's apple when he stops his yapping to swallow... His arms look firm, but his frame is still a bit lanky. You hope you get to stay taller than him. It takes all your willpower not to idly start caressing his bicep while imagining those limbs eagerly wrapped around you.
Suddenly Dirk is alarmingly confident, proud even, chest puffed, chin held up and hands animatedly gesturing, about this afternoon. He's getting to the good part. You snap back to his story and no, the direction is all wrong. When did they get behind that abandoned warehouse, alone, while urban exploring with their friends? When did they get so close, sitting together on that pile of planks? When did they start looking at each other like that?
Your blood pressure is spiking. You can hear rushing in your ears.
That cunt shyly adjusting his glasses before turning to your little brother.
Please.
His clammy hand in your little brother's equally as clammy hand.
Please, no.
His nervous smile, his tooth gap and the dimples on his cheeks, inching closer to your little brother, ever closer...
Please, don't.
Then Dirk tells you the thing that drops the bottom off your world.
And he's smiling, he's really smiling, that genuine, excited smile that shows a sliver of his teeth, tightens the apples of his freckled cheeks and thins his eyes into crescents. It's a rare sight when he can't suppress it. But you, you feel like you were just dumped headfirst into an ice bath. You should have seen this coming but it still tears at your heart.
And then comes the rage.
The kind of white-hot, blinding rage you barely know what to do with. But you do and you've already done: you don't even register gripping your half empty can so hard it crumples and screaming "YOU DUMB LITTLE BITCH!!!" while throwing it at the wall full force where it ricochets off in a wide arc and lands behind the couch.
Dirk predictably freezes in place, freaked out by your sudden outburst and his smile fades. He's confused, but if he has even a shred of self-preservation instinct he will bolt off the second you give him any space to think. So you act first. You rip his shades from his face and throw them aside with force. He can barely utter a startled 'hey!' before you smack him so hard he hits his head on the back of the couch. The sound of your palm connecting with his face stays ringing in your ears, no doubt it does in his too. It's immensely gratifying. He's too stunned to even bring his hand up to his cheek yet, so you take advantage of the few extra seconds you bought yourself, grab his hair tight and force him down on his back.
That breaks the stun. He gasps and his arm flings against your chest, trying to keep you from coming any closer. Too bad he's trapped under you already. His wide, frightened eyes tie your guts in a special kind of knot. All he gets from you is his own reflection off your shades, but he doesn't need to see your eyes to know exactly how you're feeling. You've made it quite clear already.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll shut up, Bro I don't- please don't hurt me, I'm sorry, I won't- I won't..." He whimpers, pathetic and confused and trying to shield himself. A bead of blood slowly wells from his left nostril and drips down his cheek. He doesn't even know what he's apologizing for. Breaking your heart, for one.
Surely he understands by now that you fucking loathe his "boyfriend"?
You can't stand the thought of that lame nerd stealing your little brother's first kiss. No doubt it's now a sweet, formative memory tinged with flustered teenage charm, but you'll overwrite it with your own. You'll do it better. You'll make it so he can't think of kissing without thinking of you. Every time he feels someone's tongue, all he can think of is yours worming its way in his mouth and tickling his palate.
You try to give him a reassuring smile, but your bared teeth signal anything but safety. "I won't, if you behave. Let me show you how adults kiss..."
The hitch of his breath when he figures out what pissed you off and how you're going to hurt him is intoxicating. He pinches his lips tightly shut and ducks his head against his shoulder, as if that's going to stop you. He steels the arm braced against you, but does he really think he can keep your weight at bay like that? His muscles are already trembling under the strain and you're too close for him to lock his joints.
You'll let him think for a moment he can...
...But he really can't, even though he's strong, you're stronger. Your other hand still grips his hair and with the other you grab him by his jaw, really dig your nails in his cheeks, and force him to face you. The tendons in his neck jut out, he's giving his everything to resist you, but little by little his arms give out under your full weight and insistent pull. He squeals the moment you crash onto his chest and trap his arms between your bodies. Your forehead hits his and your faces smack together, hard enough to hurt and you taste blood. Not quite how you imagined your first kiss to go.
But you get to try again. You kiss his tightly closed mouth and the helpless whine he makes against your lips makes you want to devour him whole.
The tension snaps and Dirk goes slack against you, doesn't even dare to breathe. Any accidental gasp and you'll be inside his mouth, he knows this. You kiss him slowly, leisurely, showing him all your love to try and thaw him. This isn't how you thought your first kiss would go either, none of the little snapshots tumbling in the back of your mind came even close. You didn't think you would hit him to get what you want, not like this. You imagined his mouth would be eager and his hands curious, he'd be into it even more than you are. He wouldn't get enough of you, kissing you over and over again, clumsy but enthusiastic, hormonal, and you'd have to be the one to tear him off you. Gently though, just so you could have a breather and do it all over again.
You're determined to make your fantasy a reality.
You pull back and look at him. Dirk keeps his eyes shut and pointedly refuses to look at you. His teeth are clenched tight and you can feel his jaw trembling. He doesn't make a sound, but a single, solitary tear slips down his temple and disappears into his hairline. You know he hopes you didn't see it.
You sigh softly before you speak again, fake concerned.
"What's the matter, champ? Just a moment ago you were so proud of your first kiss," you taunt him and resist grinning so hard your cheeks hurt. "I'll make your second even better. You know, I actually know what I'm doing, unlike your little boy toy. You just need to let me..."
It seems to hit a nerve and gets some fight back into him. His eyes snap open and he trashes and kicks against you the best he can. You brace your foot against the floor so he can't throw you off the couch, which he tries, with surprising vigour. This is too easy. He can pull at your wrists and cuss you out all he likes, but you stay heavy on top of him. His blunt nails dig into your skin and the burn is lovely. He knows he's already fucked, you got him into a vulnerable position before he had a chance to do anything about it. You'd be angry too.
Little by little he tires himself out and settles for glaring at you with wet eyes, breathless. Involuntary sobs cut through his otherwise rhythmic panting. You lean back in closer and he bares his teeth in warning. Unimpressed, you lift your fist in retaliation. He instinctively flinches and so, loses.
"Thought so," you mutter and close the distance between your faces again.
You try to pry his lips apart with your tongue but he doesn't give in to you. Blood oozes from his gum. He is still desperately trying to turn his head away, that only means you'll grip his face even harder and really make his jaws ache. You push your tongue into the space between his teeth and cheek, trailing the smooth edge of his canine all the way to his molars. Just getting to taste him a little is driving you crazy, you're sure he can feel your hard-on pressing against him.
"Come on, Dirk, kiss me..." You plead, rocking your hips against his body.
"Bro please, stop, I don't want-" He finally whispers against your lips, choked and terrified, and you take the opportunity to push your tongue between his teeth proper. He freezes and doesn't bite you despite his threat. Dirk's mouth is so warm. His tongue shies away from your own, it doesn't deter you in the slightest. Him in your embrace, the perfect seal of your mouths, the puff of his warm breath on your skin... Your every hair stands on end, you could die happy right now. Your fingers trace the lines of his teeth through his skin, like this you can finally push his cheeks in between his jaws so he can't close his mouth and deny you access again.
By now he should have figured out that you don't care that he doesn't want this or that you're hurting him. It doesn't matter if he pleads or begs, you'll have your way either way.
Dirk's fingers stay curled around your wrist and against your chest. Now that he doesn't fight you anymore, you gently nip at his lower lip, taking it slow and romantic. You'll show him exactly how much you love this, how much you love him. Why would you be doing this otherwise? Open-mouthed, you share his breath and barely brush your lips against his, trying to coax him to kiss you back. When he doesn't take the hint you settle plunging your tongue back into his hot, awaiting mouth.
You're so hard it hurts, your dick sits wrong in your pants. You ease your weight off of him just enough to try and adjust yourself a bit more comfortably. Dirk doesn't bite you even when you let go of his face. He's being so good for you.
God, you need to have him and you need to have him right now before he peddles his virginity away to some common douche or even worse, a fucking nerd. Sure you're not above using a bit of force, but the night is young and so is he. You'll take your time enjoying him, ease him into it little by little so you can be the best he'll ever experience, so he'll come crawling back when he realizes nothing else compares to you. Just the thought leaves you feeling faint.
You pull back to take a breath and trail your tongue along your teeth, catching a trace of his blood. You haven't felt this good in a long time.
"Dirk, babe, I want you to do something for me..." He's alarmed the second you speak up. And he should be. You kiss him and his lips are soft and relaxed for you. God, you love him so much. So good and pliant. "Nothing too bad. I'll be really nice if you are."
He breathes fast and shallow, the occasional sob breaking the rhythm. You run your hand up his chest and can feel his rapid pulse thrumming against your fingers. His fist curls, grabbing at your shirt. You want to think he's tugging you closer. Encouraged, you spread your fingers across his throat and he swallows under you, heavy and strained. You can't help smiling. You kiss him again, softly, before continuing. "There's so much I want to do to you..."
"...But let's start easy, yeah? Give me a handjob," you tell him, gently. Dirk looks appropriately apprehensive when you reach up to stroke his cheek. "You don't have to put anything in your mouth if you don't want to," you tell him, knowing that he really, really doesn't, but you're kind of hoping that he would. Later he will. You should blow him first and teach him all your tricks. He doesn't nod or show that he's agreeing to your proposal in any way, but you don't need him to.
You lift your weight off of him and sit up on your knee. For a second he looks surprised that you'd let him go free like this, then like he considers bolting and then like he considers better. Dirk lifts himself carefully to sit, mirroring you, yet way more rigid and shaky.
"Touch me," you order him. Dirk does nothing, eyes downcast but looking anywhere else than below your belt.
"Dirk. Touch me."
His shoulders hike up, otherwise he stays still as a statue. You try the gentle approach and caress the side of his face with your thumb again. It does nothing to relax him, he flinches when you reach out towards him and if possible his shoulders tense even more.
"Come on, please?" You insist, but he doesn't make a move. His fists are balled so tightly on his lap that his knuckles are drained stark white.
You can see that he's thinking, you know his nervous tells when he just cannot get himself to say something. After an annoyingly long while Dirk takes in a hitching inhale and blurts out: "Please Bro d-don't make me do this! I won't talk about Jake anymore, I really won't, I promise!"
Ugh. You don't have the patience for this, you give him a little slack and he gets difficult. You pinch his cheek, hard, and tug him closer.
"Look, I'm being really fucking lenient here," you scoff, exasperated. "I could just beat you up and fuck you right now. Is that what you want to happen? Are you this eager to have your first time with me?"
He shakes his head timidly, as much as your vice-grip allows, and can't even bring himself to look at you. Sure he's not, but you are. You let go and he rubs his cheek.
"That's what I thought. So shut up and do as I tell you," you sneer, grab his wrist and guide his hand to the outline of your cock. He resists at first, but a harder tug makes him relent. You don't miss that sharp inhale and that choked sound in his throat that he swallows right down. His fingers are rigid but you force him to close them over your erection. You don't feel as much through the thick fabric of your jeans as you'd like, but every bit of contact is maddening and just feeds your anticipation. You breathe out a pleased moan and slowly roll your hips against his hand. His eyes immediately dart up to look at yours, or rather his own off your shades. He looks mortified.
You've never seen Dirk like this, so far out of his element, flinchy and shy. Hell, you don't remember the last time he has cried in front of you. And right now, he might be looking at you, but there's really nothing behind his sweet, amber eyes. A shame, but you'll get him to come back, for sure.
It would be amazing to have him work you up from the beginning, have him slowly kiss and lick and suck your soft cock to full mast. But who are you kidding? You'll be rock hard the second he gets on his knees. That'll only work out once you get used to having him, which might just as well be never.
You take your guiding hands off and leave him to it. He strokes your cock clumsily over your straining jeans, he can't not see it, what he's doing to you. To your surprise you don't need to encourage him along, he's already going for your belt with trembling hands. His deft fingers unbuckle you quickly but you stop him before he can pull your fly down.
"I know I said that you don't need to put anything in your mouth you don't want to, but..." You bring your hand to your crotch and take the little metal puller between your thumb and index finger, offering it to him. He understands right away what you want and you could swear he gets a shade paler. He swallows a sob before bowing down to take your offering between his teeth.
The zipper is rather tight. His head is in your lap and his palms firm on your thighs. Like this, you can imagine what it would be like to have him blow you. You run your hand through his hair and he shivers. Tooth by tooth the pressure keeps easing off your cock. The magical moment is over as soon as it began, he hits the stopper, parts his teeth, drops the puller with a small 'clink' and sits back up on his knees.
He's not quite sure what to do next, or is busy psyching himself up, so you take the initiative to pull your jeans down to your thighs for him. One layer less, your cock is eagerly pushing against your boxers and you're dying to feel his hands on you. He doesn't leave you waiting for long, Dirk starts hesitantly palming at your clothed cock. By now he's well aware of your size, you can feel it in his fingers when he curls them over your erection, following its length towards your hipbone. His intimidation only makes you harder.
You know you'll fill him fully. That other guy's pea shooter won't even compare and once Dirk gets to really feel you he won't spare him a single thought.
Dirk's hands are a bit stiff and cold, but they'll warm up soon enough. It takes all your willpower to let your little brother explore your body at his leisure, a lesser man would already have him pinned down and dick buried so deep in him whoever could pull it out would be crowned King Arthur. His breaths come out uneven through parted teeth, fingers dipping under the hem of your shirt and inching towards your waistband... You can feel him flinch when his fingertips meet your bare skin, but he bravely slips them under the elastic to pull your boxers down. You lift your hips to help him along.
The fabric drags down, inch by inch, ever so slowly. He's stalling. You hold your breath. Dirk holds his too. It's agonizing, his fingers are so close, grazing against your lower abdomen, lower, lower, lower. You feel yourself bend under the elastic until it slips over your tip. Finally, finally your cock springs free and smacks against your stomach, rock hard, throbbing and ready. Dirk stares, eyes wide and frozen in place. You'll etch that look in the back of your mind so you'll never forget it, 'first time seeing big brother's cock' you'd write on it like on a polaroid. You breathe out a hum, low and pleased. Dirk bristles and hesitates. But not for long; he reaches over, timid and resigned to his fate.
He wraps his fingers around your cock and his touch sends a jolt down your spine. You can't help your teeth parting and jaw going slack, giving way to a quiet moan. He starts jerking you off, slowly at first as he's trying to adjust his grip. He's clumsy and his palm is clammy, but you don't care. It's your little brother's hand, it's on you and it's everything you've ever dreamed of.
You lean back and prop yourself up against the armrest. You've truly got the front row tickets to the show. You can see every single nervous twitch of his brow, every single moment of hesitation in his fingers, every single time the side of his mouth dips down into an involuntary grimace... You can only imagine how hard and hot your cock feels in his inexperienced hand, the hand that only knows his own.
You watch as his hand slides up and down your shaft glistening with pre-cum, fingertips barely touching around your girth and dragging your foreskin along. You can't help meeting his fist even though you try to behave yourself.
There's a bit too much friction, which he notes too. You don't need to ask him to do anything about it, he figures it out on his own and apprehensively spits on your cock. It eases the glide right away and you can imagine the warmth of his mouth. Your virginal little pornstar.
It's amazing how easily you can make him do this, so sweet and pliant. You only had to hit him good once and threaten to hit him twice. Maybe it's because he loves you. It's surprising that he'd fear your violence so much, normally you get pretty rough with each other while sparring, but then again you don't mean to seriously hurt each other. Just a little.
Your fingers itch.
You take your eyes off him for just a moment to reach for your smokes off the coffee table and to your surprise, he stays obediently right there and keeps stroking your cock. You light a cigarette, fling your arm over the back of the couch and sink comfortably against the armrest to watch him work, pleased beyond compare.
Dirk doesn't like you smoking inside the apartment and you usually never do.
Now it isn't up to him. Nothing is up to him.
He knows you could beat him black and blue.
He knows you could push him down and choke him and brutally rape him.
And he knows you could not do those things if he satisfies you enough.
He's a smart young man after all.
But he doesn't really know you, and apparently neither do you. You would never, yet here you are, enjoying every single second of it. You're not cruel, you don't think you are. You've never been. But you do know you're sick and the extent of it surprises even you.
You bring the cigarette to your lips and inhale your lungs full of tar.
Dirk is apathetic, but the way he looks up at you for just a second feels judgemental. You blow the smoke in his face for it. You love his disgusted grimace, the way he tenses up and refuses to breathe... Violating him is such a turn-on. He doesn't say anything but you know he's upset with you.
For several things, obviously, but this might be the pettiest. You crack a smile, he's adorable.
You want to grip his hair, guide him down by his roots and bury your cock in his throat so bad. It would be unfamiliar to him and he'd gag around you for sure, teeth pressing against your shaft, struggling with your size... His soft tongue, it would be so skittish on you, he could barely bring himself to lick you. Oh, and the way you'd have to coax him to even close his lips around you and suck, just thinking about it drives you wild.
Dirk is starting to find his rhythm, his hold is firm and he strokes you faster. Your tip pushes through the tight ring of his thumb and index finger again and again. You on the other hand are starting to lose the steady rhythm of your breath. He's not the only one with trembling hands. You bring the cigarette back to your lips.
You'd love to take him on your bed, like you've fantasized doing so many times. You want to hold him in a headlock while ramming your cock mercilessly inside him. He would be so tight, desperately gasping for air, face pressed into the mattress and really struggling against your overwhelming strength. He'd reach behind himself and his nails would dig into your biceps and drag deep red lines down your arms. It doesn't matter if he can take you or not, because he will either way. You'd tell him as much, lips against his ear. And you'd fuck him, hard and deep and relentless and he'd cry and wail like you've never heard him before until his voice gives out.
Dirk glances up at you nervously, it's like he can sense what you're thinking. It turns you on like crazy.
You want.
You want.
You want.
You're so close. You clamp your cigarette between your teeth, shove Dirk's hands off and hastily wrench yourself up to your feet to have your dick in line with his face. He recoils, as expected, but doesn't try to get away from you. You take over the duty of stroking yourself, urgently.
"You take my load either in your mouth or on your face. You decide, but fast."
Predictably he chooses the face; he closes his mouth tight and demurely tilts his head back. You've never seen him so angelic as to when you're rubbing your cock against his reddened, tear stained cheek. You grip the hair on the back of his neck tight so he can't change his mind and jerk yourself off wrist aching like your life depends on it. It kind of does, you at least feel like you're going to die if you cannot bust a nut right this second. You're so desperate, but you want to stretch this moment to infinity. The love of your life, his pretty face and your big, fat cock. But you're just an animal and as such have physical limits.
Dirk flinches and scrunches his nose when the first jet shoots him right over the eye. The second he can predict and the lines of his face smooth back down, pliantly taking your load. You grind the head of your cock against the top of his eye socket in your frenzy to penetrate anything, his eyebrow smears flat and if you smack your fist against his face any harder you'll break his nose. You pump every last drop of your seed onto his beautiful features until you feel like you're going to pass out. You've never cum this intensely, then again you've never done it on your little brother's face either. You'd love to slip your softening cock into his mouth, have him suck you clean until you're really finished, but you'll have to make do rubbing against his tightly pinched lips instead for those last, agonizing sparks of pleasure.
Tension leaves your shoulders. You ease your fingers out of Dirk's hair and take half a step back to admire your little brother. Your thick, pearly white cum on his freckled cheeks and in his platinum hair, you've never seen anything quite as lovely.
Your cigarette still hangs from the side of your mouth. You've bitten the filter almost in half and dropped ashes on your shirt. You do it relaxed and without thinking, the last brand to bind him to you forever; you stub your cigarette into the inviting dip of his collarbone. He squeals and tries to push you off when you keep it there and grind, really burning him. You count the seconds. When you ease off it leaves a blackened ring of ashes and an even larger angry red ring slowly spreading around it.
If you like it so much you should put a ring on it.
Dirk curls into himself and doesn't make a sound. The neckline of his shirt falls over the mark and snaps you out of your trance.
The post-nut clarity is brutal.
You single handedly turned the best day of his life into the worst day of his life. What a dick move. And you're not even done yet, you can't be done yet.
You're shaky and vaguely nauseous. Busting one right at the start was a bad idea, you're not sure if you can go through with this whole thing, but you have to. It's worse if you leave it at this AND you will beat yourself up forever over chickening out at the crucial moment. Do you want to get your dick in him or not?
Oh, you really, really do.
The blood pumping through your veins feels ice cold. He could leave after this. He could go to his boyfriend and beg to stay with him, for no reason in particular since he would not tell what you did, but he'd seek comfort in his arms, all aggressive and needy and ready to give him what he won't give willingly to you and, and... No. No, you can't let him leave. You can't stop. You need him. He has to need you.
You'll hurt him, you'll hurt him so bad but he will thank you later and kiss you like he means it. You could give him everything, if there really is anything more you can. He already has a comfortable life with you, which you're sure has discouraged him from moving out for this long. You have to win his trust and adoration back. And to do that, you'll have to take good care of him first.
You kick your jeans and boxers off around your ankles. Dirk tenses up at the sound of your belt jangling. He breathes fast and uneven and his nail beds go white with the force he's gripping at his knees. You extend your hand towards him and softly touch his arm. The muscle visibly flexes under your fingertips. But you don't relent.
"Babe, you did so good... Let's get you cleaned up," you whisper and coax him to come out of the tight ball he's strung his limbs into. He cracks open the eye you didn't jizz completely shut and looks at you. He's miserable. Your heart skips a beat. What did you expect, really?
"...Don't look at me like that, I let you off easy."
If possible, he looks even more disappointed and dreading. He doesn't enjoy your flippant tone one bit. Your chest feels tight. You're not getting enough oxygen. You're going to be sick.
Actually, never mind, you usher him up and towards the bathroom. On the way there you step into a puddle of your mishandled drink and get your sock wet, gross. But it's okay, you get to peel it off soon after, just as you do Dirk's clothes. He tries his best to shrink into the corner of the shower and avoid skin contact with you. Even the cold tile is better than you. You'll let him do as he pleases, the warm water will draw him close when he gets bored of shivering alone. You take a step back and start washing your hair.
It takes a while. You don't miss the goosebumps on Dirk's skin or the way he hugs himself, fingers digging in the flesh of his arms. He hangs his head low and tries his best to look away from your naked body on display. Emphasis on tries, you're all he can realistically look at. The thought of his eyes on you makes your dick twitch. You know you look great, everyone wants you. There's nothing more you'd like than him looking at you with the same desire you look at him. For now you'll have to make do with intimidation rather than adoration, it's almost as good. And terribly arousing. You don't have as much stamina as you did as a teenager, so you thankfully don't have to worry about terrorizing Dirk with another boner right after. Give it 10 minutes or so and you're ready to go again. He should be glad too. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Dirk fidgeting and trying to sneak some water to wash his face with. You grab his wrist.
"Look, you can just say please," you tell him. "I'm more than happy to help you out if you let me."
He hesitates for a second until finally asking: "...please, let me get cleaned up."
"My pleasure. Take a deep breath," you tell him and take the shower head in your hand. He holds his breath and you go ahead and direct the water over his head. He's about to start rubbing his face clean but you swat his hands away and tell him you're here to take care of him. He relents and you get to work. The mess you've made is quite resilient, the cum turns slick under your fingers and the water. You run your thumb carefully over his eyelid again and again until you think he could safely open it. Whatever you got in his hair needs a good shampooing, it managed to dry down a little and clumps the strands together like glue. To be honest, the products he uses in his hair already leave its consistency about the same. Almost as if on accident, you take your time and keep the water on Dirk's face until he has to turn his head to escape the spray and gasp for air.
First you cum on his face and then you waterboard him. Way to go.
"There you go, all better now?"
Dirk rubs the water out of his eyes before slowly opening them. He glances at you before returning his gaze somewhere else and nodding.
You put the shower head back in its holder and coax Dirk to come closer to you. "Stand here, I'll help you wash..."
He doesn't resist you shampooing his hair nor lathering soap all over his body. You get to touch him everywhere you've ever wanted to. You glide your hands over his strong shoulders and his firm back, down his tightening abs and sharp hip bones. His skin is soft and smooth and feels good against your palms. You've dreamed of this for so long, he will be finally yours... As far as you know no other guy has touched him like this. You slide your hands up his sides, slip them in his armpits and run your fingertips through the light hair there. He squirms, ticklish. You can barely call this washing. You continue up along his body and ghost your fingers over the burn on his collarbone. He winces, but doesn't make a sound.
The soap on your hands ran out a while ago but you keep on touching him, pretending to get him clean and enjoying the warm water. Dirk keeps a careful distance between your bodies, shrinking away just enough that no other part of you could brush against him.
You shift closer. He takes a step backwards and you follow until his back hits the wall. He ducks his head when you lean in.
By this point he must realize you're not done with him yet, and won't be for a while. He's got a long night ahead of him.
"Please..." He whispers, barely audible over the white noise of the shower.
"Please what?" You ask, pressing your nose in his wet hair and kissing his temple. He tastes fresh and clean. Dirk should be glad that you've been considerate and haven't even tried handling his junk yet. Emphasis on yet.
"Don't," he pleads.
"I'm not gonna hurt you, relax."
He does the opposite. Undeterred, you kiss high on his cheekbone and follow his jawline.
"Dirk, I'm really sorry I got so selfish before. I'll make it up to you..." You whisper against the wet skin of his neck and slide your hands down to his hips. "I'll make you feel good, yeah?"
Dirk makes a choked sound in his throat and pushes at your forearms, but not hard enough to actually get you off him. He needs some persuasion. You kiss down his neck with an open mouth, all teeth and tongue. He's pressed between the cool tile and your warm body. You push your hips against his and you think you can feel his cock getting slightly interested, a little twitch against your thigh.
He knows it happened, too, because he panics.
"Huh, Dave, um, you really- I...I'm good, I'm, you don't... you don't have to- You really don't have to," he stammers, voice thin and fingers digging into your wrists.
"Hey, it's okay. I want to," you reassure him, grinding into him more insistently and dragging your mouth down to his collarbone. The burn is right there. You run your tongue over it and he whines behind clenched teeth. He doesn't let go of your wrists. You did say you wouldn't hurt him, but he'll have to get used to a little pain with you...
You get down on your knees on the hard, slippery tile, dragging your mouth all the way down his chest and stomach. Dirk seems a bit taken aback, he expected something different, you think. He presses his back tighter against the wall and tries to shrink away from you, yet loosens his grip of your wrists and holds his hands over yours almost tenderly, awaiting.
You've got his dick right in front of you, still shy and flaccid, but you'll fix that. Your head game is top-notch, he can't get better anywhere else. Most definitely not from his "boyfriend".
You circle your fingers around the base and lift him to your lips. Dirk makes a little sound when you first touch him. You hold his dick against your tongue and pump the shaft encouragingly a couple of times before taking him in.
His soft cock fits comfortably in your mouth. It's smooth and pleasant and you bury your nose in his wet pubes before slowly pulling back, lips tight around him. Dirk inhales sharply. You can feel his dick getting plumper and perking up against your palate. Your heart makes a thrilling flip in your chest. Try as he might, he can't stay reserved forever. You take him in whole again and add a bit more suction. It's easier to slide him in and out of your mouth now that he's a bit more into it, but not even half-hard.
You really want to know what he's thinking, getting his first blowjob from his big brother.
He probably hates you for this. But his dick doesn't. Engorging, it fills your mouth, forcing you to adjust. You can really feel that he shares his genes with you. Such a turn-on. You're stupid in love.
You let him slip out of your mouth and kiss down his traitorously hardening shaft, rubbing it against your cheek as you go. You close your lips around the side of his cock and roll your tongue against his soft, smooth flesh. You could eat up the little sounds he's making behind his teeth.
He keeps working towards full mast little by little, foreskin slowly peeling back until his glans fully pops out. You can feel the slick smear of his precum on your cheek. You can't help the moan slipping out with your exhale. You want to taste him so bad. Dirk shudders when you lick and nip at the loose, sensitive skin of his balls, carefully taking one in your mouth. You roll your tongue against its firm warmth and can feel his balls contract and pull up towards his body. He feels conflicted in your hand while you stroke him, flagging a bit just to perk up again under your gentle care. Every other part of him shrinks away from you but this. The only honest part of him. And really, what does he have to complain about? You didn't really hurt him; you've for sure punched him way harder before. And he has punched you, no biggie. Sure it was friendly strifing, but he can't pretend like you've never injured each other before, it was never a problem. This was just an open palm and he didn't even have to do anything painful, just a handjob. You slip him back between your lips and let him feel the back of your throat.
There's a familiar twitch between your own legs as your cock shifts against your thigh. You valiantly refuse the temptation to touch yourself but cave within a minute, this is a special moment and you'll have to take everything you can get. Right now you will not deny yourself anything. Isn't this what you've been fantasizing about? Not quite, you guess, but the shower masks Dirk's tears so you can pretend.
Dirk keeps flexing his fingers, tendons jutting out over the backs of his hands, trying his best not to touch you. You suck him slow and deliberate and with just enough teeth to remind him that he shouldn't piss you off while you're down there. His skin slides smoothly between the tight seal of your lips and his hard, pulsing shaft. He tastes salty and aroused. You close your palm over your erection and stroke yourself lightly, just enough to enjoy yourself but not enough to get distracted. Dirk is your main focus now.
You pull back and keep him on the tip of your tongue, teasing him with slow, circling motions. You can feel his frustration when you stop, that bated breath and clenched teeth. His dick keeps twitching, but he pointedly refuses to make a move or ask you to keep going. Most damningly, he's not getting any softer. He wants this. He wants you, even if he can't admit it yet.
In your fantasy he's flustered and needy and comes the second you take him in your mouth. He's not quite as sensitive as you thought he would be and a horrible thought crosses your mind. What if this isn't his first time? You blew up at him so fast and intense that he didn't get to tell you everything they did. What if they didn't just bump noses and make out? What sort of lovely expressions Dirk showed to him that he refuses to show to you now? You think of his softly parted lips and flushed face, the gentle tilt of his head and his bangs falling in his eyes. How he'd lean into that guy's touch or meet his mouth halfway with his hips, unable to stop himself from rocking into that dogshit blowjob.
You can't stand the thought that someone else could have heard his soft moans before you. He's yours, he's yours, he's yours.
You hope he's not imagining someone else behind his closed eyelids while buried balls deep in your mouth. You won't let him. He needs to think about you.
He has always wanted your attention. And, well, now you're absolutely lavishing him with your attention. He should be happy. He should know not to forget you even if he is boy crazy, but it's okay, you'll forgive him for it.
He is really passive, but this is new and overwhelming and you know he's quite shy when he can't pretend to be in control.
If he got real brave and actually took any control back, he could clasp his hands behind your head and not let you come up for air. You'd nut on the spot. And he could too, right down your throat. You palm yourself harder and sigh out a moan muffled by his cock.
His muscles keep straining and you swear he ever so slightly rolls his hips against your face. Oh, he doesn't even pretend that he wants you to stop anymore. He's not going to last long. So you stop. You pull back and still your hand around the base of his cock. For a split second he tries to follow after your withdrawing mouth, but your hand stops him. You've never heard him make the kind of desperate, breathless whine through his teeth he does now.
You look up at him and crack a smile.
He doesn't smile back, but your grin doesn't die down either.
"On my face or in my mouth?" You ask and start stroking him again, teasingly slow. He's throbbing in your hand. "Come on, decide fast or your dick is gonna decide for you."
You open your mouth for him invitingly and cradle the tip of his cock on your tongue, breath hot on his flesh. Dirk's hands keep shaking, even when he tries to steady them against the wall behind him, fingers splayed and nail beds pressed white. Whatever resolve he had a moment ago caves in on itself as he can't help pushing his hips towards you; he slides in along the slick expanse of your tongue until he hits the back of your throat. You close your mouth snug around his cock. It's just enough for him to finish and shoot his load with a loud, shuddering moan. Spurt after spurt, you keep swallowing. You won't waste a single drop. He has to see how much you want him, how much you care for his pleasure, how much you can do for him.
You keep sucking until he gets so soft and so sensitive that he has to dig his fingers in your hair and pull you off him. You let him, of course. At least he touches you voluntarily.
You tilt your head back and let it hang in his tight grip. Finally you can take in the aftermath above you. Dirk, your Dirk blown within an inch of his life. You love this look on him; glossy eyes, shaky hands, chest heaving and his freckled cheeks glowing rosy... You file away this snapshot as well; 'The first time big brother made me cum' and it will not be the last. You can make this nice for him. You can't help your blissed out grin. You open your mouth and beckon him closer with the tip of your tongue. Dirk just pushes you further away and you laugh, light and airy. You haven't felt this good in a long time.
After making sure you're not doing anything he lets go of your hair slow and reluctant and looks away. You get the hint and get back on your feet. Your knees feel stiff, but the ache is going to be well worth it. You give your face a quick rinse and you're done.
Dirk gets out after you and doesn't say a word. The silence is contemplative. He must be embarrassed about how much he enjoyed you, the image of his little boyfriend fading and fading... He wraps his towel tightly around his hips and doesn't look half as confident strutting around with a bare upper body as he usually does. You swear he loved having your eyes on him, what gives?
You wrap your own towel loose and low on your hips. No use in pretending, he already saw that you're hard. It shouldn't surprise him.
Dirk doesn't resist you towel drying his hair. For once he's not fussy at all, none of that 'Dude don't touch my hair!' shit. The way his bangs hang limp and wet over his eyes is awfully intimate, he doesn't let anyone else see him like this. Only you. You can't help leaning in and kissing his closed lips, sweet and chaste. You feel his lips tightening into a scowl under yours. Okay, just a little fussy it is.
You break away and he would look at his toes if your dick wasn't in the way. His eyes landing on it for just that single, mortifying second before averting makes you throb. Fuck, you really, really want to yank him down by his hair and stuff it deep in his disrespectful little mouth. But you behave yourself.
You'll give him some time to gather himself again. He's shaking like a leaf.
You turn away from him and wipe a clean patch on the mirror so you can comb your hair. You can still see Dirk on the foggy part of the reflection, of course, it's hazy but it's enough to keep tabs on him. He stands to the side, fidgeting now that you're seemingly done with him. He doesn't seem to know what to do with himself or even be aware that he's idly touching the burn on his collarbone. You don't look straight at him, but in your peripheral vision you can see him glance at you, at the door and then back at you several times. He shifts closer to the exit, gaze fixed to your back. You don't make a move. You think you can see his shoulders relax slightly when you don't pay attention to him. You keep running your fingers through your bangs and fixing your part.
It takes a while, but when he thinks you're not looking he reaches out and opens the door, ever so careful not to make a sound. You would have noticed the cold gust of air anyway. He should know. He hesitates for a couple of seconds before turning his back on you.
You let him get halfway out the door before spinning around and catching up to him with a couple of decisive strides. You put your hand on his shoulder and he freezes. You think you can feel every single one of his nerve endings bristling at the contact, like little needles.
"Where are you going?" You ask, knowing full well he hoped to quietly slink away into his own room.
"I was going to..." He can't bring himself to look in your eyes, barely glancing at your chest. "I was going to get changed..."
"No need," you tell him and gently but firmly guide him towards your bedroom instead. He drags his feet only a little. He just can't help being such an easy lay, but at least it's for you and will be only for you.
You push the door shut behind you and lock it. If Dirk decides to bolt you'll have more time to catch him. You doubt it, but he just might get desperate enough.
He knows what comes next. You can't wait.