
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/411671.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Bro/Lil_Cal, BroCal, Lil_Cal/Bro
  Character:
      Bro_(Homestuck), Dirk_Strider, Lil_Cal, Dave_Strider
  Additional Tags:
      Shota
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-05-24 Words: 2854
****** I'm Not Lonely When I'm Alone ******
by LoverlyMadhatter
Summary
     Dave's gone for the weekend, and Bro's feeling a little lonelier than
     usual. Cal's only wondering what's up.
     (Bro/Lil Cal shameless porn without plot)
Notes
     Made this for a friend, since this is like, her OTP. All day err day.
     I guess a little fluff at the end/beginning?
     This is also awful.
It was always lonely at home without Dave. Not that you would ever tell him
that. Truth be told, you were asleep most of the times that he was at school,
but when he left for Egbert’s on the weekend, well… It’s good that Dave has
friends, and you’re proud of him for having the friends he does, but hot damn,
that doesn’t make it any less lonely.

“Dirk,” giggles a high pitched voice from the futon in the center of the living
room. You look up from your cup of cheap coffee and over a precariously placed
pile of puppet ass to a young boy on the couch. His face is painted white with
bright red circles on the apples of his cheeks. He bounces on his knees on the
couch, the rest of his body unseen beneath his oversized shirt emblazoned with
his name.

“Yeah, Cal?” you reply. You don’t play those aloof games with Cal; he’s your
best friend, after all.

“Dirk, you look kinda sad.” He giggles. You sigh and rub the bridge of your
nose.

“No, Cal. I’m just getting lonely here without Dave.” The boy lifts himself off
of the futon and bounces over to you.

“But you have me here, Dirk!” He grins and you can’t stop the smile that breaks
your face. It’s genuine, one that no one sees but him – not even Dave. You
reach up and rest a hand on his head.

“I know, Cal.” Cal sits for a moment, and his face loses the smile and becomes
straight. His eyes narrow to the floor while your hand still rests on his head.
He opens his mouth to say something, bright eyes blinking down at the floor,
but then he closes it and shifts awkwardly. You turn in your chair; he thinks
that you didn’t notice him trying to say something, but you don’t miss
anything. You put your hands on his shoulders and gaze at him through your
shades, forcing his chin up and his eyes to look at you with the sheer force of
will.

“What’s up, Cal?” The young boy looks away from you shades and bites his lip.

“You love Dave, right?” he asked slowly, each word a deliberate choice. You
nod.

“Yeah, Cal. ‘Course I do. He’s my little bro.” The boy bites his lip again,
forcing them to turn redder than they were before.

There’s a silence, and he won’t continue.

“Spit it out, little man,” you urge. Your eyebrows are knitted in concern. Have
you not been giving him enough fist bumps? Enough attention? Does he feel like
he’s less to you than Dave?

“Do…” he stops and sighs. He takes a breath and looks up at you. There’s some
trace of determination in his blue eyes, and you almost urge him to continue
again when he asks, “Do you love me, too?”

You’re visibly taken aback and your eyes widen from behind your shades.

“Well, of course I do, li’l man. What on – “ The boy steps forward in the
middle of your sentence and presses his soft lips to yours. It’s only for a
moment, but you do nothing in turn.

Cal pulls away and looks down at the floor, lower lip quivering as if he’s
about to cry.

“I’m sorry, Dirk, I don’t – “ Your shell shocked expression disappears and you
cut him off mid-sentence, just as he did to you, with a kiss in reply. He
initially tenses, then softens into the kiss, his jaw relaxing. You take the
opportunity to slide your tongue past his parted lips; you can feel the
difference in the sizes of your bodies in your tongues, how yours almost fully
encompasses the warm, wet space of his mouth. It strikes you that you should
move a little slower, be maybe a little gentler, but Cal adapts so well, and
whether it’s the soft little moans that escape his mouth when you open and
close yours to increase the friction, or just the amount of time that you’ve
known Cal, you don’t know, but something is telling you and urging you to keep
this fast pace.

You wrap your arms around him, pull him closer, and stand. Seemingly as if he
knows your thought process exactly, he hops as you lift him, and wraps his
skinny legs around your waist, hands coming up to frame your face and the
tongue war that is ensuing within your mouths. You grunt as you open the door
to your bedroom, and you feel a shiver wrack his body.

You don’t bother closing the door; swiftly, you cross the bedroom and gently
lay him down on the edge of the bed, legs dangling, and your body is on top of
his, coercing it back onto the bed. It’s so hard to not flush yourself onto his
small body, but you’re so afraid you’d break him, so there’s s till about an
inch of space you’ve made sure to leave.

You pull out of the kiss and hear Cal whine softly until you press your
tingling lips to his jaw and kiss lowly down his neck. Your jaw clamps down a
little harder than you indented when you feel Cal’s small hands tighten on your
shirt and he attempts to lift his body to yours. He only succeeds somewhat, but
his attempts are enough that his hips reach yours and you gasp through your
nose as you feel his small erection and bite down.

“Hnnn-aah!” he whines. Your attempts to keep your emotionless face are
beginning to fail as you struggle to keep the blood from rushing to your face.
It runs straight down to your cock, however, and you can’t stop that; your ears
are burning and you know that they are shaded deep red.

You continue down his neck, softly sucking his collar bone, and pause only to
lift his shirt off an, with it, his cap, carefully setting them on the bedside
table. The wet spots on his soft, white skin glisten as you trail your tongue
down farther, and hold your mouth open over one small, pink nipple. You let
your breath ghost over it, and he writhes beneath you. You flick your tongue
out once and you relish the sound as his breath catches in his throat. He
squeaks – a delicate, innocent sound – the next time like he’s surprised. You
finally hear what you’ve been attempting to draw out of him when you latch on
and a high pitched, breathy moan escapes past his lips. Somehow you know that
he’s biting on his own lip, bruising it, but light enough to keep from
bleeding. He’s biting down to stifle the moans, but you’re determined to bring
them out in full force. You take off your gloves, never moving your mouth from
the nub it has become attached to. You reach over and set them with Cal’s
things, but bring your other hand back to the reddening nub left neglected and
pinch it between your fingers. He sucks a gasp through his top teeth and his
bottom lip.

“C’mon, Cal,” you breathe, lifting your head. “No one can hear you. Don’t be
afraid, li’l man.” His fingers tighten on the back of your shirt, and you know
his small fists are stretching it, but your mind goes elsewhere when you
reattach your mouth and he decides to unleash a high, unabashed moan.
As soon as he’s writhing and whimpering beneath you, made a pool beneath your
hands and mouth, you abandon one nipple with your hand, and movie it down to
meet the waistband of his bright orange leggings. You weasel your fingers
beneath the band and feel the tip of his small erection. His hands let go and
his fingers spread, splaying themselves upon your back, and when you rub your
fingertips down and pass over the top, those small fingers curl again, this
time into your back. You release your mouth from the abused nub in favor of
trailing wet kisses down his chest. The other hand that you were resting on the
side of his head you bring down to assist your other in pulling the waistband
down mid-thigh. It’s small and pink and he gasps and jumps when you wrap your
hand around it, thumb sliding across the top and slicking it with precum. You
stoke him once before replacing your hand with your mouth, feeling him shudder
and harden beneath you. You take him into your mouth easily, then pull back up
and swirl the top with your tongue. You hear him groan your name – but the
groan’s almost a whisper it’s so soft - and you feel yourself twitch inside
your pants; you definitely want to hear more of that.

You look up into his eyes and he’s watching you, eyebrows knitted and lower lip
worrying beneath his teeth. Flattening and flicking your tongue in all the
right places, you make him shudder beneath you again, eliciting more of those
soft groans and high pitched sighs. The petite, gloved hands that were gripping
the bedsheets move up to rest on your head, as if he’s giving you some sort of
permission. You take him in as far as you can suck; his hands tighten in your
hair painfully and you have to press your hands down on his hips to keep him
from bucking up into your throat.

“Cool it, li’l man,” you say, removing your mouth. He whimpers and you feel his
hands loosen slightly. You lift away and straighten yourself. Cal understands
exactly what you mean to say his hands to back to gripping the sheets, and he
makes no move to work at himself. His body is shaking with the struggle.

Lovingly but efficiently, you untie his shoes and set them beside your bed,
then remove his leggings and fold them neatly. He watches you with those blue
eyes the entire time as you carefully remove your hat and set it on the desk
behind you. Your shirt and shoes are ungracefully thrown and kicked under the
desk. A groan rumbles through your throat as you undo your belt and release the
constriction of your pants. He sucks in a breath as you shed your pants, and
you can’t help but smirk. You grab the small bottle from on top of your dresser
before going back to his small, naked body. You run your empty hand down the
length of his chest once, just to feel the softness, before having him scoot
back on the bed and hovering your body over his. You slick up your fingers on
one hand as much as possible; there’s no way that you want to cause this kid
any harm; he’s already so much tinier than you are, even a finger could break
him. You place the bottle beside his small body, and look him directly in the
eyes. He takes a shaky breath as you place your finger at his entrance, and
then lights up his face with a heart stopping smile.

“Wait,” he says, looking confidently up through your shades. He looses his
hands from the bed sheets and brings them up to the sides of your shades. You
don’t stop him and he doesn’t hesitate as he removes them and puts them as far
as he can above his head. You return his smile, knowing your eyes are giving
away what you want them to, just for him to feel how much love you have
coursing through your body right now. You press your lips softly to his as you
press your finger in past his entrance.

The boy gasps into your mouth and you feel his jaw clench as his entire body
tenses.

“Relax,” you breathe, breaking the kiss and moving to kiss lightly on his neck.
Your other hand reaches up to where his has resumed clenching the bed sheets
and sets upon his. You squeeze your hand slightly as you press a kiss to the
crook of his neck and feel him relax somewhat.

“Good. Just relax for me.” He does relax enough so that you’re able to press
your finger a little farther in. He’s resumed biting down on his lower lip with
his oversized front teeth. You press in a little farther, in between his
breathing, and once you’re all the way in, you curl your finger upwards
slightly. You miss what you’re looking for, so you pull out slightly, then
press back in. He calms as you repeat this process, and you hear his whines of
pain slowly turn into moans of pleasure. Your hand is still pressed upon his,
but he has long since turned it up to lace his fingers through yours, and soon
his other hand is exploring your hair, running through it, tugging here and
there when you curl your finger. You slip your second finger in and he shudders
and tenses, but relaxes almost immediately, taking a deep breath. You scissor
and reach for a different spot, then curl your finger up.

“Aaaaaaah!” he cries, and his hand death grips in your hair. You grin against
his neck and make sure that every time you go back, you try to hit that spot.
He responds by melting into you, his moans of pleasure taking on a louder
volume, his lip long forgotten about by his teeth. His mouth opens and he
arches his back as you add a third finger, sounds floating into your ears like
a symphony. As soon as you’re sure he’s ready, you retract your hand. He gives
out a whine and you look down at him, his eyes half-closed, a moaning puddle of
pleasure. His breathing is heavy and his body is loose.

You squirt a gratuitous amount of the cold liquid substance onto your hand and
stroke your way back to hardness, slicking up your dick as much as you can. You
know the kid’s going to need it.

His small body is squirming again beneath you, but he stills as you position
yourself between his legs, bending his knees so that they open and your cock
sits right at his entrance. He looks up at you, blue eyes wide and deep, and he
smiles again. He assures you in his smile that it’s ok. You lean farther over
him, positioning yourself directly above him. He wraps his arms around your
neck and kisses you on the mouth, tiny lips wet and warm. He takes a deep
breath as he feels you ready yourself. You press in and his breath catches in
his throat.

He cries out and tightens his thin arms around your neck as you slide further
in. You make sure that you move slow enough so that he can adjust to you each
millimeter that you enter. His tiny chest is rising and falling deeply and
quickly, and his breath is moist on your neck. You press on further, slowly,
and once you reach the end and pull out, he shudders. You slide in slowly
again, and you feel his hips rock, if only slightly.

“Dirk,” he whines, fists clenched tightly, resting on your back. You respond in
turn by kissing him, then thrusting in. His mouth opens and cries out in your
ear, practically screaming. You grunt as you pull back out and thrust in again.
You still try to be gentle, but with his hands like claws scraping your back,
your feral instincts kick in and you growl, eating up his mouth like it’s food.
You reach down and wrap one hand around his small shaft and pull, and he arches
into your body again, flushed full against it. You grunt as you smash into his
small body, over and over again. You’re coming undone, not quite in control
anymore as his small body rocks back against you in perfect time, like he knows
exactly what he’s doing. But he doesn’t. He can’t. But he knows you.

You pump him harder and faster in time with your body’s movements. You’re
crying out with him now, moans and cries of pleasure filling the air about your
room. You feel the boy’s body shudder against yours as a warm and stick
substance spills into your hand. You lift up from his mouth to drag in a deep
breath and then you growl his name as you come inside of him, stars exploding
in front of your eyes.

You both stay still for a moment, drinking in one another’s breaths. When you
can stand the warm feeling no longer, you pull out of him and lie down beside
him, kissing his forehead when his small, warm body curls up into yours.

“I love you, Dirk,” he mutters, before he stops moving.

“I love you, too, Cal,” you reply, kissing him.

You hear something heavy drop to the floor behind you, but you don’t bother to
turn around. You decide that you’ll just fall asleep to the sound of your
younger brother spitting expletives in your direction.

“Dude, he’s just a puppet!” You flip him the bird before closing your eyes and
nuzzling the puppet beside you.
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