
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12919476.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Dave_Strider/Dirk_Strider, Bro/Dave_Strider
  Character:
      Dave_Strider, Dirk_Strider
  Additional Tags:
      Sibling_Incest, Incest, Masturbation, Pesterlog(s)_(Homestuck), handjobs,
      Stridercest_-_Freeform
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-05 Words: 2085
****** Ironically Unironic ******
by noisykid
Summary
     Bro pesters Dave on chat and gets him off in the process. Dave
     objects (but not really).
Notes
     I wrote this I don’t even know how long ago. No wait. I just checked.
     May 2012. I decided to dig through all the folders on my computer
     because I know I wrote a ton of porn and just never posted it
     anywhere because that’s just what kind of asshole I am. Anyway. This
     may have started as a skype conversation between a friend that I
     turned into a fic. Because I am a bad friend. Enjoy.
turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]
TG: what the fuck
TG: is this some new trick youve invented to throw me off guard more than usual
TG: sorry bro but im not seeing how this is ironic
TT: I guess you don't get the intense levels of irony I'm operating on over
here.
TG: yeah well i dont see how kissing your little bro is ironic
TT: It's okay lil' bro. I understand that it's hard for an novice irony
instigator like yourself to understand the practically tectonic levels of irony
converging over here.
TT: Like these plates are all rubbing up on each other in a big incestuous
irony orgy.
TT: And while we're on the subject, your face was doing a pretty good
impression of molten lava before.
TG: ok im out of whatever shitty ironic game were playing here bro
TG: this shit is not worth the mental trauma
TT: Why? Am I striking a nerve here, lil' bro?
TG: youve got nothing on me bro and you cant prove any of that shit
TG: youre only doing this so you can suck me into one of your sick games
TG: which by the way im not fucking playing
TT: Except by talking to me now you're already participating in my "sick
games". What is it? You got a super gay crush on your cool older bro, is that
it?
TT: You're being more obvious than a guy peeking through the window of the
girl's change rooms.
TT: Terrified of getting caught wanting something you know you can't have but
unable to stop the hand tugging your pecker.
TG: bro thats sick
TT: So how do you want to play this, lil' bro?
TT: You feign innocence as you ask me for kissing practise?
TT: Or maybe I come into your room late at night and you can pretend you're
asleep?
TG: what the fuck bro
TG: i dont want this
TG: this is sick
TT: I told you already, bro. You're fuckin' obvious. I don't even have to look
at you right now to know just how bad you want me all up in your grill.
TT: Just like before on the roof when I planted that big one on you.
TG: shut up
TG: just shut up
TT: Stop being such a fucking pussy, Dave.
TG: how am i? my own bro is telling me i want to fuck him
TG: how is that not sick and twisted
TT: So should I take that as your confession then?
TG: what the fuck
TG: its not going to get through your thick fucking skull is it
TG: its like trying to get through to a brick wall
TG: or a guy who is deaf dumb mute and also a brick wall
TG: i dont want to want you bro
TT: So is that "That's sick and I don't want you at all and never mind how cool
and awesome you are, you're still my fucking bro" or closer to "That's sick and
I want you but I don't fucking want to"?
TG: ...
TT: Come on, it's a simple question, Dave.
TG: we shouldnt even be having this conversation
TG: this is wrong and i shouldnt want this and fuck you because i know youre
just screwing with me fuck you fuck you fuck you
TT: Damn, bro. I didn't realize you had it for me so bad. Your own flesh and
blood. Your own brother. Your fucking bro.
TT: I sure as hell messed up when I raised you.
TT: Then again, I must be fucked up too if I want to fuck my own kid brother
into his mattress.
TG: no no no no no no no
TG: fuck
TG: shut up
TT: You're thinking about it now, aren't you?
TT: My weight pressing down on you.
TT: My hands in your hair.
TT: My tongue in your mouth.
TG: no fuck stop it
TT: You hard, bro? Front of your jeans causing you problems there? You thinking
about my palm cupping your junk?
TG: bro no
TG: im not going to touch myself thinking about you
TT: But you want to.
TT: Don't deny it. You're at least thinking about it.
TT: Thinking about your older bro touching you. Hands all over your chest. One
running up the inside of your shirt, over your sweaty skin. The other palming
that trouser tent you're pitching.
TG: fuck you
TG: im not giving into whatever youre playing at here
TT: Well, what exactly are you doing there, Dave?
TT: Because by the looks of your right hand, it doesn't look like you're
resisting all that hard.
TG: ...
TG: the fuck
TG: where are you
TT: Ha ha. Got you.
TT: Real smooth there, bro.
TG: ugh fuck you
TG: now excuse me while you leave me to die in my shame like fucking always
TG: im gonna go find a good rock to crawl under
TG: or a boulder
TG: or possibly a fucking train
TT: Nah, not this time bro.
TT: I want to talk you off.
TT: You're already touching yourself so you might as well let me.
TG: then fucking get on with it already
TT: I'll understand if you just respond with keyboard mashing from here on out.
TT: Anyway, so let me tell you exactly what I'd do if you were right here in
front of me.
TT: You're sitting there at your computer like you always do. Except I'm there
behind you now. I've already got my hands up your shirt, and my hands are
moving over your skin, nice and slow. One would probably inch up a little,
maybe graze over your nipples. Maybe you'd make a noise, maybe you'd be
clenching your jaw and not let yourself.
TT: Probably the latter.
TG: hngh
TT: Yeah, that's what I thought.
TT: So I'd move both hands up, rubbing my index fingers over those little dark
nubs. And I'd feel you squirm. And you'd want to whimper but your teeth would
be biting your lower lip.
TT: And because I'd be behind you, my mouth would be close to your ear, close
enough to flick my tongue out and catch your skin against it. But I wouldn't.
Instead I'd whisper something.
TT: "Damn, lil' bro. You're breaking out in a mad fever here. Maybe we oughta
get rid of of this shirt of yours."
TT: And then slowly, fucking slowly, I'd start to drag it up and off you.
TT: Now it's like fucking dessert time at the white house because you're half
naked and your skin is warm all over and flushed under my hands and I'd just
want to look at you. Just give you the hardest once over you've ever had. And
you'd get half shy half impatient and you'd probably stutter something stupid
like, "F-fuck, Bro. Hurry up."
TT: But I wouldn't.
TT: Nah, not at first.
TG: youre such a goddamn fucking tease you asshole
TT: Yeah, yeah. I know. But your reactions are just too good. I'd just wanna
eat it all up, like a fat-ass at Burger King wants to eat six double whoppers
extra cheese with a six pack of onion rings on the side and then washes it all
down with a diet cola. Except she don't want to savour that shit, bro. Not like
I do.
TT: So my hands would be moving up and down your front now, and my head would
bend a little lower and my lips would suddenly latch onto that sweet little
juncture where your shoulder and neck meet. And then I'd suck. And you'd
probably gasp and jerk but I'd hold you still while my tongue practically
lathes over your skin.
TT: And maybe I'd leave a couple of marks. Just to remind you.
TG: asdfgh fuck
TT: And then after a while, my hands would start to trail lower, and I might
give you a few sharp bites before trailing my tongue over the nape of your
neck.
TT: But that's just the whipped cream on your cake, bro, because my hands would
be at the front of your jeans now, sliding over your hand on, thumb brushing
against the zipper.
TT: And I'd tease you. I'd be fucking relentless. Rubbing and cupping your junk
until you were wetting up like a girl. Until I can see it coming through the
denim. And your gasps would get so fucking needy.
TT: "Fuck, please, come on. Please."
TG: ah asdsdsdkjfhkaj bro
TT: Ha ha. You getting desperate there, Dave? You getting close already?
Haven't even unzipped your pants yet, dude. But don't worry. I'd be getting to
that, because I'm a generous kind of guy. On the fourth "please", you'd lift
your hips a little and then I'd push your jeans and underwear down around your
thighs.
TT: And then your dick would just be straining there for a minute. Throbbing
against your stomach.
TT: Except then I'd wrap my fist around the base and give it a slow jerk and
your relief would be so thick it'd be practically palpable. Like sweat dripping
down your skin. And by now you're basically speaking gibberish because you're
just so fucking grateful that your older bro is gonna give you the sweetest
fucking hand job of your life.
TG:khfjdsfhgk
TT: "Damn, Dave. You're leaking all over the place here. Have a little
decency." And I'd be jerking you off now, my hand nice and tight around your
throbbing junk - not really fast, but not exactly slow. Just steady. Up and
down. And every so often I'd flick my thumb over the head and rub it into that
weeping slit.
TG: faster
TG: please faster
TT: I can't say no to that sweet pleading voice of yours. You really want this,
don't you? You want this so bad.
TT: And then my hand would start to move. Really move. It'd start to move
faster and then soon I'd be fisting your dick, squeezing that rosy, throbbing
tip with every pass upwards.
TT: And I'd be watching your reactions in the reflection of your computer
screen. Watching you arch and gasp and bite your lips. And I'd be pressing
against you, breath hot against your ear. And you could feel the heat pouring
off me, a quiet grunt as my arm strains with repetition. And you'd know just
how turned on this was making me.
TG: kfdjghlsdjfhglkshjdf fuck bro i dont think im gonna last much longer
TT: Come on then, Dave. Don't hold back anymore. I'm working you hard and fast
now. I want to make you come. I want to feel you tense up and stammer out my
fucking name. I want to feel your entire body shaking with an orgasm that's
tearing right through you.
TG: jhdsksj fuckdhfkajdhskfa bro bro bro dirksfgs fuck fuckkkkkk
TT: Oh yes, fuck, that's it. God fucking damn that's so fucking good.
When you can catch your breath you look down at yourself. Ugh. What a fucking
mess. You think about wiping your hand on your shirt but hey, you actually
fucking like this shirt and you probably should've thought about this before
... before what? Before your bro started making weird come ons at you and you'd
shoved your jeans down faster than a whore at an ABA convention.
And now here you were, sitting with your own jizz dying on your stomach and
fingers, watching your absolutely shame-faced reflection in the now dark screen
of your computer. And then you begin to panic.
What if your bro was just being ironic? Maybe this was just part of some sick
game he was playing before? Maybe that stupid kiss was just his way of tricking
you into doing something stupid. Something stupid like letting yourself finally
acknowledge your "super gay crush on your cool older bro". Fuck.
Suddenly your computer chimes, letting you know that you've received a new
pesterchum message. So you nudge the mouse with one of your knuckles, trying
not to get your spunk all over it, and the screen brightens again. Suddenly
you're not even worried how fucking uncool you probably look right now because
you just can't stop grinning.
TT: Come up to the roof when you're finished up with that mess there.
TT: Maybe we can unironically practise kissing.
TT: Make up for that sloppy train wreck I sprung on you earlier.
timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]
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