
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13387161.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Dave's_Bro_|_Beta_Dirk_Strider/Dave_Strider
  Character:
      Dave's_Bro_|_Beta_Dirk_Strider, Dave_Strider
  Additional Tags:
      Stridercest_Week_2018, Sibling_Incest, Parent/Child_Incest, Plot_What
      Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Oral_Sex, Masturbation, Ambiguous_Age, Ice_Play,
      tagged_underage_due_to_ambiguous_aging
  Series:
      Part 1 of Stridercest_Week_2018
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-01-16 Words: 3165
****** An Inch of Snow ******
by Schediaphilia
Summary
     Who will win? A tiny snowball or a bowl of ice cubes. You decide.
Notes
     For Day 1 of Stridercest Week 2018. Prompts I chose were Holiday
     Cheer and Ice Play.
     Hastily written and posted, may be edited and replaced in the future.
The snowfall isn't immediately noticed by them. 
It's warm in their small apartment and they're a bit distracted. A small,
cardboard Christmas tree lays upon the shitty cardstock table. Dave has pinned
tube socks to it, Bro hasn't expressed dislike of them. So they've stayed. Bro
is lounging on the futon and Dave is fucking around looking at Chinese menus.
This was all apart of the Strider Christmas Ceremony. First, they'd put up
shitty half-assed decorations. Then, they'd sit around on their asses and order
Chinese food and eat until they felt sick. And that was it really. In between
shitty Christmas specials no one in their right-mind would remember (mostly due
to blocking it out via sheer will power) they'd pick at their pile of pork
fried rice and regard each other only when the Christmas special got too weird.
Like, Santa being an immortal God weird. Yeah, that one still weirds Dave out a
little.
But then Dave glances at the window by chance. White specks a twinkling in the
low-light of the late-afternoon sun. Holy shit. 
"Snow," Dave says, paper crinkling in his hands. 
Bro raises a brow at him and then turns his head. 
"Huh, no shit." 
"Wanna go outside?" 
Bro shrugs. 
"What? It's snowing on Christmas, you can't just ignore that!"
"It's just snow," Bro replies, looking entirely disinterested. 
Dave frowns and throws on his shoes and a jacket. 
"Have fun playing outside," Bro calls out, and Dave can't tell if it's supposed
to be passive aggressive or not. Probably is. 
Dave fumbles down staircase after staircase, and after what feels like aged, he
reaches the outside and looks up into the grey sky and realizes...
Bro was right. This kind of sucks. Dave turns his attention back to the ground,
where snow has barely begun collecting on dead grass, on cracked pavement of
the sidewalk and parking lot. He wasn't really what he expected. The snow was
falling in big blobs now, and they felt wet and frankly unpleasant when they
fell onto Dave's hair and face. 
He frowns. He didn't really think this through. There had to be a way to make
this situation at least somewhat fun, right? 
Dave spots a bench and tilts his head in thought for a moment. He takes off his
jacket and pushes the small accumulation onto it, holding it unsure in his
hands. He takes it in his hands working quickly and creates a loose snowball.
Perfect. He deposits it back into his jacket and heads back inside. He
dutifully carries it up the stairs, staring at it and hoping it'll make the
trip back home. He awkwardly holds it through his jacket as he opens the door.
"That was quick," Bro says without turning to look at him, "Build a snowman
with the 5 inches of snow out there?" 
"Nah." Dave says as he walks up behind Bro slowly. 
All according to plan, Bro doesn't turn to regard him, "You decide what you
want for food?" 
Dave reaches out- he needs to be quick, and holds the snowball in one hand. He
reaches out, takes the plunge, and makes contact with the collar of Bro's t-
shirt. He quickly wraps his fingers around it and pulls back- he shoots!
"MOTHERFUCKER!"
He scores! 
Bro has shot up, shaking his shirt with an expression of bewilderment. Dave
snickers, watching him wiggle awkwardly, his body moving in the strangest ways
to keep contact with the snow to a minimum while trying to get it out of his
shirt. 
"What's the matter? It's just snow," Dave says as he plops down on the futon
and picks up the Chinese menu again. Bro's breath is strangely ragged as he
slowly sits back down. 
"Usin' a man's words against him isn't very gentlemanly," Bro says in a low
voice and Dave worries he's actually pissed him off. 
"If you wanted me to be a gentleman, maybe you should've raised me like one,"
Dave replies with a half-hearted smile.
Bro lets out a quiet laugh and Dave relaxes a bit. 
"Shit, man. Fair." 
Bro leans back  and relaxes, and Dave finally decides on what he wants. Dave
turns to Bro to point it out when he notices Bro looking at him. Dave
hesitates.
"Decide what you want?" 
"Yeah," Dave replies, and Dave isn't entirely sure how to take Bro's smirk. 
A phone call and an hour later, they have two boxes of pork fried rice, a pupu
platter, and their dishes. Dave settles down on the futon with a bowl,
precariously filled with rice and orange chicken, Bro opting to eat out of the
box.
"Merry Christmas," Bro says between bites of his lo mein, staring absent-
mindedly at the disconcerting clay figures on the TV screen. 
"Mmmf," Dave replies with a mouth full of chicken. Damn, chicken is fucking
great. 
They continue at a slowing pace, picking at the food as they switch to A
Wonderful Life for irony, or something. Dave can't tell at this point where the
Christmas specials stopped being ironic and became tradition. Can tradition be
ironic? Probably. He'd have to consider the implications of an ironic
tradition, and if in fact being a tradition made it unrionic, later. And then
it's some Christmas special for an 80's cartoon Dave's never heard of. Finally,
halfway through pastel colored animals screeching about the joy of Non-
Denomination Wintery Holidays, he opts to head to bed for a food coma induced
nap. 
Dave stands, legs wobbly from disuse, and he deposits the empty container from
his food into the trash and figures he can leave the rest to Bro. 
"Where do you think you're going?" 
Dave turns and somehow Bro is behind him, arms locking him in place. Dave
wriggles against his hold, managing to wrench out of his grip only for Bro to
pull him back in, and now Dave is facing him, chest to chest, almost eye-
level. 
"I think I'm going to go take a nap," Dave says.
"Not in the agenda, lil' bro," Bro replies and suddenly that smirk from before
makes a comeback. 
"No," Dave begins in a more direct tone,  "seriously, later. Unless you're into
spontaneous projectile vomiting during whatever you're so hyped up about," Dave
says and moves to squirm out of his grip. This time, Bro relents and Dave
starts walking to his bedroom-- only for Bro's hand to wrap around his forearm
and drag him to the futon. Dave frowns, "Bro, I'm serious--"
But then Bro is taking off his shades and grabbing the pillows they throw onto
the floor. 
"Could use a nap myself," Bro says between the metallic crunch of the futon
converting to a flat surface. 
Dave resists the urge to smile and kicks off his shoes and jeans, carefully
placing his aviators on the coffee table, and flops onto it. It's a tight
squeeze, but Bro manages to lay down beside him, an arm tossed over Dave's
side, covering both of them in the thin quilt. Dave's never quite gotten used
to sleeping next to Bro, if he's going to be honest. Sleeping in general was a
bit of an ordeal, add in another people who might sleepily punch you at 5 AM
really brought it to a new level. 
So Dave stares at the kitchenette and living room he doesn't remember turning
the lights off in, he stares at the TV he also doesn't remember being turned
off. He stares at the window, seeing only black where previously specks of
white had lit up under streetlights. Dave has the urge to check the weather on
his phone but can't be assed to move, not when he has a big, warm human space
heater nestled up behind him. His warm, full body, distracts him and soon he's
drifting off. When he falls asleep he's thinking of warmth, and colors and
shapes that might amount to Bro. 
And when he wakes up he's thinking of hot and weight, and something that was
definitely Bro. Dave groans, blinking his eyes, and for some reason the lights
on, and for some reason Bro has no shirt on and it lying on top of him. Well,
that's certainly a way to wake someone up. 
"Wha," Dave babbles eloquently.
"Feel better?" Bro asks, his hair mussed from sleeping, shades still discarded
on the coffee table alongside Dave's. 
"I- I guess?" Dave isn't sure, Jesus man give a man some time to wake up. 
Bro is suddenly off of him and the contrast makes Dave shiver. Somehow, it's so
much colder without him. Dave grumbles and closes his eyes. Half-asleep, he
wonders if he just pretends to be asleep he'll leave him alone. Or maybe if he
plays dead. Whichever, really. But then Dave is suddenly cold- much colder, and
he yelps, eyes flying open to squirm away only for Bro to hold him down by the
shoulder-blade. Dave breathes in through his teeth and finally processes the
offending stimulation, the one that's making his stomach muscles waver and
spine shiver. Bro is holding an ice cube on his stomach. Dave is suddenly very
awake and  very aware of what that smirk Bro had been flashing meant. 
"What's wrong," Bro asks, seemingly unable to hold back the beginnings of a
shit-eating-grin, "it's just ice." 
"Ice is a lot colder than snow, asshole," Dave replies, wondering when the fuck
Bro had managed to push up Dave's t-shirt without him noticing. 
"Really? I didn't notice," Bro remarks and doesn't bother to hide his smile
when he drags the damn thing up Dave's torso. 
Dave makes a noise that might sound suspiciously like a whimper but he would
assure you it was not a whimper. By now his body is getting used to the
assault, but he still has this sensation like his bones want to shake just to
warm up, or maybe to get away from it. 
"What's your end game here," Dave breathes out, out of breath from the tussle,
"what you just gonna torture me with ice until you feel better?"
"Maybe," Bro replies in a voice to even it makes Dave nearly groan out in
exasperation. 
Bro continues in that manner, holding onto the now half-melted cube and swiping
it in now areas just to make Dave shake. His sides seem to induce a favorable
reaction and he spends far too long there for Dave's comfort. When Bro reaches
off the side of the futon and comes back with another cube, Dave gapes in
disbelief. 
"Come on dude, what do you have a bowl of them?" 
"Is that a problem?" 
Bro is smiling again, and the small amount of time from when the last cube left
his skin was spoiling Dave rotten because the moment the new cube is placed
down he's shivering harder. Dave whines when Bro swipes it on Dave's neck, and
then Bro pauses. Bro pulls away from him, letting up on his weight holding him
down. 
"Take your shirt off."
"Why the hell would I--" 
Dave pauses, gulping quietly when Bro rocks against his hips. 
"That's why," Bro remarks when Dave becomes aware of his erection. 
Dave isn't sure what to think of this. Even still, he bits his lip and sits up
just enough for Bro to help him pull off his shirt. He lies down, and this time
Bro doesn't need to hold him down. His skin is still tingling, goosebumps
running up his arms when Bro carefully retrieves an ice cube and presses it
against Dave's lips. 
Somehow, the cold is different there. It burns in that way only ice can, but
the tingling it elicits from the flesh there feels deep and... good. He can
feel cold water dripping down his lips and chin. Dave sighs out, Bro pulls the
cube away. 
"Good sigh?"
"Good sigh," Dave replies, suddenly feeling a little more confident about where
this is headed. 
Bro places the cube in the bowl out of Dave's vision and Dave suddenly can't
process the deep, almost painful warmth of Bro's lips against his own. 
Dave would be whispering, "holy shit," were it not for Bro's lips on his, so he
opts to mouth the words as Bro pushes his tongue inside his mouth. Dave wraps
an arm around Bro's neck, pulls him closer, and loves it when Bro's tongue runs
against his. Dave feels like suddenly his entire body is tingling, either from
cold, warmth, or excitement he can't tell. 
Bro pulls back, a smile in his voice, "You look good like that."
"Like what?" 
"Your lips are all red," Bro is leaning up, running a finger over his lips.
Dave breathes out a moan. The ice left this strange deep pain that feels
inexplicably good on his lips, a deep warm bruise the sent tingles down his
spine when Bro pressed against his bottom lip. 
"You look like you're drooling," Bro observes in a low voice. 
Dave resists the urge to cringe, "Oh yeah, that's really hot."
"I thought it was," Bro responds.  Oh. 
"Weirdo," Dave breathes out when Bro leans back, retrieving another ice cube. 
"Better wrap this up," Bro says absent-mindedly before he raises back up.
They're probably all half-melted by now, Dave thinks.  
Bro swipes the cube along his neck and it's different this time, it still
elicits the shiver and makes him feel strangely breathless, but Bro is making
his way down his collarbone, down his chest-- and Dave knows exactly what's
coming but that doesn't stop him from gasping when the cube makes contact with
a nipple. It was already melting, cold water dribbling down his chest as that
strange tingling burn ebbed into his flesh. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe
for entirely different reasons. An almost crackling burn erupted where the cube
met his flesh before Bro relents, swiping it in circles. The sensation makes
Dave's eyes flutter closed, chest rise up into the freezing touch. 
"One more," Bro says in a voice so low Dave suspects the words were more for
Bro's benefit than Dave's. 
Bro is struggling to keep a good grasp on the cube when he drags it across
Dave's chest to keep his promise-- one more. Dave breathes in, feeling slightly
dizzy from the sensations. His lips still tingled, an inexplicably good ache
running through them and his nipples were no different. By the time Bro is
done, he doesn't have a cube to deposit into a bowl. Bro looks into Dave's
face, running his hands in loose circles on his chest in such a deep but
indirect way to make Dave shake. 

"Spoke too soon," Bro speaks with a smile that's all teeth, predatory, "you
look even better like this." 
And then he's pinching, the sensation sends jolts through Dave's body and
suddenly Dave doesn't know what to do with his hands because he feels like he's
falling and needs something to anchor himself. Bro isn't gentle, pinching and
pulling and Dave tosses his head to the side, one arm scrambling to clutch at
the futon cover uselessly while the other tangles around Bro's neck for dear
life. Shocks of deep, burning pleasure shoot down from his chest and he's so
hard it hurts, his lips hurt, his chest hurts-- 
Bro pulls back and Dave doesn't hold back a groan of what is definitely not
desperation. Certainly not. 
"Lift your hips," Bro instructs as he slides down Dave's legs, supporting
himself on his knees. Dave complies hastily and cannot hold back a grin when
Bro hooks his fingers around the band of Dave's boxers and slides them down.
Hell yeah. 
"What's with the look," Bro asks, and Dave can't take it seriously because his
face is obscured by Dave's hard cock. 
"Thought you were torturing me," Dave says, voice sticky sweet.
"I feel better," Bro says simply before shutting Dave up with a long, wet lick
from the base of Dave's dick to the tip. 
Fuck, Dave loves when he pulls out the porn star shit. Dave gently curls his
fingers in Bro's hair and lets out a sigh, body relaxing while paradoxically
tensing as Bro drags his tongue along the tip of Dave's dick. Precum quickly
disappears onto Bro's hot, pink tongue and Dave bites his lip. Bro softly sucks
the tip into his mouth, cheeks hollowing and flicks his eyes up at Dave's face.
Dave smiles, lip escaping the grasp of his teeth with a dull ache. And then
suddenly it's so wet, so hot, and Bro's mouth is halfway down his cock in one
swoop and fuck he's way too good at this. Bro slides up with a wet, slow suck
and rubs his tongue under the head of Dave's dick and Dave swears he can see
him breathe in a deep breath through his nose. 
Dave is gasping, stubbornly forcing his body to keep still when all it wants to
do is force his hips upwards. And then Dave's head is thrown back, a deep
rumbling moan escaping his throat because it's so warm and he can feel Bro's
tongue and can hear Bro make a quiet grunt of his own. Dave doesn't need to
look down to know Bro is deepthroating him like a fucking champ, he's quite
familiar with this sensation and knows exactly what the blissful suction is
when Bro swallows. But Dave never gets used to this, never gets used to Bro's
pink, wet lips wrapped around him, never gets used to the feeling of Bro
letting him slip his dick into his throat. Dave feels his thighs tighten, his
core spin and twist into a hot, fiery coil. Dave moans lowly, breaths in short
hurried bursts and taps Bro's head. An agreed upon, "figure out what you want
to do cause this shit's imminently about to blow." 
And Bro doesn't need time to decide and instantly sucks harder, his hands that
were on the futon wrapping around Dave's hips. Dave looks down, Bro's
fingernails dig into his hips. Bro's eyes are shut and Dave knows he's
concentrating. Just because a man can deepthroat don't mean it's no shit, it's
not easy shoving a dick down your throat, especially at this angle. Then Dave
notices Bro's sweatpants are pushed down, ass exposed and it takes several
moments for the information to click together. And Dave grits his teeth in a
haphazard grin when he hits his limit, eyes unfocused. His lips part, eyes
squeezed closed, fingers tightening in Bro's hair-- 
"Fuck," Dave groans out in one long breath, dick throbbing once, twice-- Bro
makes a low, muffled noise of exertion when Dave cums down his throat. And Dave
barely has time to ride it out before Bro is shooting up, breathing in air like
he's run a mile. 
Dave's body is tingling, head hot and heavy when he says, "Fuck, man, you
okay?" 
"Never better," Bro replies, and Dave doesn't have the heart to tell him cum
mixed with saliva is dripping down his chin. He'll figure it out.  
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