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It's three in the morning when you wake up with a sticky mess between your legs, boxers and blankets clinging to your skin. Fuck. You peel the covers off of yourself and slide out of bed, planning only to run across the hall and get in the shower quickly, then get back into bed and 'accidentally' spill some apple juice on your comforter so you have an excuse to get Bro to wash it.
What you don't expect is that Bro is just getting home because he had a gig tonight, and he's walking down the hall when he sees you, and you're pretty sure you probably look like a deer in headlights because he raises an eyebrow. "What's up?"
"Goin' to the bathroom," you mumble in response, staring at the floor rather than looking him in the shades. You hope he can't tell, but he probably can. He takes a step forward and slides his hand up your inner thigh, and you arch away from his touch as he gives you a knowing sort of smirk.
Jackass.
"Aren't you a little old to be having wet dreams?"
"Aren't you a little related to me for... this?" You gesture to the fact that his hand is still resting on your thigh.
"Have some really sexy dream about John?"
"Fuck off." You shove his hand away and slip into the bathroom, attempting to close the door only to have him shove his way in and close the door behind him. "Bro, what the fuck are you doing? Let me shower."
He just shrugs and pulls his shirt over his head, not disturbing his hat or his shades in the slightest. It's pretty rare that he whips his shirt off right in front of you, and you wish you could say you didn't want to stare. But he's right in front of you and god he's sure got a lot more muscle than he had the last time you saw him. You can't help but stare a little bit.
He leans his face close to yours and smirks again. "Thought you were having a shower?"
You feel your face get a little bit hot and you suddenly feel incredibly self-conscious. Your brother is standing in front of you, shirtless, waiting for you to take your sticky boxers off and get in the shower. You turn away from him to turn the taps, turning the hot water all the way up because this apartment's water heater isn't the best ever and it always takes a while to heat up. You feel gloved hands on your sides, sliding down to rest on your hips and begin to slide your boxers down just a little bit. God damn it.
You push his hands away again and remove your boxers yourself, wincing a little at the way they stick to your skin. This is the most embarrassing thing you've ever done in front of Bro- aside from taking puppet dong in your mouth in front of a video camera. You hear him chuckle behind you, and you feel your ears get hot. The pokerface is long gone and you're sure you look rightfully humiliated when you drop your boxers into the sink. His hand is between your thighs again and you let out a small, surprised sort of noise. "Bro, come on, what the fuck are you doing?"
"Helping you out," his tone is matter-of-fact and you sort of just want to turn around and punch him in the face because this is embarrassing as fuck and whatever he's doing, you can certainly do yourself.
His fingers trail up your inner thighs and his chest is against your back and he's just barely stroking you with both hands and you reach back and grab his shoulders.
"Bro, what the fuck are you even-"
"What does it feel like? Jesus, it's like you don't know how to shut up."
You arch into his hands, can't help it- he's barely touching you and you need more friction. This is the point at which you stop giving a shit that he's your brother. He lets go and moves back and you try not to let out a whine but you do, even if it's only a quiet one.
"Bro, just- just let me shower."
You hear the metal of his belt hit the floor and he pushes you forward a little bit, and you step into the tub, standing under the hot water, letting it wash away your earlier accident. Bro steps in behind you and his hands are on your hips and he pulls you back against him, making damn sure you feel his dick pressing up to your back. You actually let out a fucking whimper and then reach back, tangling your fingers into his hair so you don't slip or lose your balance. He wraps one arm around your waist to hold you up, then buries his face into your neck. You gasp and grind back against him, only to have him let out a grunt. You're going to make him moan before this shower is over. Or at least try your hardest.
He brings his other arm around you only to wrap his hand around your shaft, squeezing and pumping hard and fast. You let out a moan- can't help it- and you sound like a fucking porn star. This makes him smirk against your neck and then he bites into it gently, making you groan again. Fuck, he knows how to touch you.
"Bro, wh-why...?" Your voice falters and you curse yourself inwardly because, fuck, that was embarrassing and so very unironic.
"Shut up already."
You do as he tells you, biting down on your lower lip and arching up into his hand, panting and bucking and almost losing your footing- except he's still holding you up, his arm's around your waist. He's probably the only thing holding you up at this point.
It only takes a few more hard strokes before you're gasping and moaning his name and reaching behind you to pull on his hair and watching the water wash milky white fluid down the drain and practically collapsing backwards into Bro's arms. He's still holding you up and you're impossibly grateful for that.
All you want to do is sleep. He reaches in front of you and turns off the taps, making sure you can stand on your own two feet before he leaves you standing there alone in the tub.
You stand there for a moment. He ran off awfully fast, still looking uncomfortably hard. You step out of the tub and wrap a towel around your waist, shrugging it off and crossing the hall into your room, about to flop down on your bed when you notice the missing covers. Damn it, Bro.
He's leaning against your doorframe a moment later, arms folded over his still-bare chest, and you would have jumped and yelped if you didn't expect this from him by now. You turn to him and your eyes practically fucking gravitate towards his dick, still hard.
"Your blankets are in the wash. C'mere."
"Am I just gonna sleep in your bed?"
He doesn't answer, so you follow him, assuming that, yes, you and Bro are just going to go to sleep in his bed. Cuddle, maybe. By accident. Because you usually hold onto a pillow but there aren't enough pillows on Bro's bed.
Yes. Accidental cuddling.
Accidental ironic cuddling, you convince yourself.
You're comfortable and snuggled into the blankets on Bro's bed when he slides in behind you, wrapping an arm around you. He's warm and you're both still naked but this is nice. You start to drift off- then you feel a cold, wet finger prodding at your entrance and you gasp, suddenly completely awake.
"Bro, fuck, I thought we were sleeping."
In reply, he presses his finger against you a little bit harder, slipping it past that first ring of muscle. You grab the sheet hard and try hard not to arch into the touch. He's gentle, so gentle, but you can feel him shifting every so often and you figure he's probably getting uncomfortable with his seemingly constant erection for the last who-knows-how-long because you didn't look at your clock before you left your bedroom to come to Bro's room, and his clock is behind you, and you don't want to move too much, because that might hurt, and if he hurt you you imagine that he'd feel bad.
He removes his finger and you hear the sound of the cap being twisted off of the bottle of lube again and he's squeezing more onto his fingers, and then he's pushing his finger against you again, sliding it further in this time, earning a whimper from you and a low chuckle from Bro. You're still clinging hard to the sheets and you're so, so tired but he's already got you hard again. Fuck.
"Bro, just- nngh, just... Add another finger already." You sound almost shameful when you say it. You do feel something almost like shame. Your older brother just jerked you off in the shower and now he's sticking a finger in your ass and you just asked him to stuck another one in there. It shouldn't be as hot as it is.
He does as you ask him, though, beginning to push his second finger in gently, so gently, he's still being so gentle with you and you just want to roll over and kiss him and cuddle up with him because this is so, so wonderful-- and you need to stop thinking about this, no, this isn't what you should be thinking about. At all.
You try to get your mind off of how gentle he's being with you, and you find yourself focusing on the feeling of his fingers beginning to push in and out of you, building up a steady rhythm, working to loosen you up enough for him to-
It occurs to you what, exactly, is going to happen at the end of all this and it makes you actually fucking ache because you're so hard. He's going to fuck you. Your heart pounds, you're so sure he can feel it- if he can't feel it, you'll be genuinely surprised. His chest is pressed to your back and his fingers are in your ass and if he can't feel your heart pounding with all of that contact he-
He presses his fingers against a certain spot inside of you and you're seeing stars, vision blurring. You're pretty sure you let out a porn star-esque moan, too. His face is pressed into the crook of your neck and you can feel him smirking.
You spend a while breathing hard, almost panting, as he builds up that rhythm again with two fingers instead of one, and then you groan against the pillow, "Another finger, c'mon."
You feel him smile again and he happily obliges, sliding a third finger into you and he's being so gentle again- Your name is Dave Strider and you do not enjoy gentle sex, you do not enjoy gentle sex, you do not enjoy gentle sex.
A Strider does not enjoy gentle sex.
Except that you do. You enjoy it and you almost want to call it 'lovemaking,' and your heart skips a beat when you think that. God damn it.
He kisses your neck and you're sure he's starting to get impatient by now, so you hold onto the sheets tight and whimper words into the pillow- "Fuck me."
Bro smiles against your shoulder again and- to your utter surprise- rolls you over so you're facing him.
"Won't this... make things more difficult?"
He's over top of you now and you're laying on your back, and he shifts wordlessly until your ankles rest on his shoulders and you gasp and arch your hips up when you feel him press against you, beginning to slide in. He doesn't make a sound, but you can see it on his face- he's still wearing his shades, yeah, but you can see that he's grinding his teeth and trying hard not to make a single sound.
He shifts again until your legs are around his waist and you move until you can hold onto him, clinging to him and just wanting to stay like that. He doesn't force you back down, instead just works around the difficult position and oh, god each move he makes is fucking wonderful. You try to keep yourself quiet, god, no, don't make a sound, don't make a sound- and despite your efforts to stay silent you let out a loud, drawn out moan as he slides all the way in. It aches, just the slightest bit- but you can't deny it feels fucking fantastic, and you're more than willing to put up with a little bit of pain if you get this much pleasure in return.
You buck up against him and it hurts a little bit- doesn't matter though. Bucking your hips against him earns you a quiet moan from him, so you do it again, and again- each time he moans a little bit louder. Each time you do it, it gets a little less painful. He starts to thrust, too, keeping time with you. You gasp each time your hips meet his, the pleasure quickly becoming nearly too much, and, it's almost as if he knows, because he slows down and holds your hips still.
You squirm a little and let out a whine which makes him pull back and thrust hard into you. "Quit whining, you already got off twice. It's my turn."
He moves until you're in a sitting position, then, and you're on his lap and your arms are around his neck, holding him close. You shift a little bit in his lap- on purpose- and he lets out a quiet moan. He grabs onto your hips again, holding you still, and it takes him a while- calming himself down, you assume- before he lets you go again and starts thrusting into you, hard and fast. You're seeing stars and, wow, your brother is pretty much rocking your fucking world. You tangle your fingers into his hair and hold onto him tight, moaning his name with each thrust. You sound like a fucking porn star, but you can't find it in yourself to care.
You start to grind down against him each time he arches against you- he starts to moan, too, which makes you do it harder just to get more of a reaction out of him.
Then you find the idea of cuddling with him creeping into your mind. Snuggling up and just kissing and holding each other and you like that idea more than you should, he's your fucking brother, for fuck's sake, but you can't get it out of your head, and you want it.
He thrusts up hard against you and you're practically collapsing onto him, your muscles all tightening at the same time, your vision blurring as you ride out the orgasm, his hand gripping you, milking every last bit he can out of you. It's not long before his thrusts become quick, erratic, needy, and you grind down against him and he moans your name and it's the sweetest fucking sound you've ever heard and your nails dig into his back between his shoulderblades and he presses his face against your neck and you wrap your arms around him, hands shaky, and his arms are around you, and the desire to cuddle with him has only increased- but he'll never fucking go for that.
Why would he want to? He wouldn't, that's the thing. You move to get off his lap and he moans, then he's over top of you. You aren't sure you can do that again, fuck.
"Bro, not again, just... Can we go to sleep now?"
He smiles, a genuine smile, not a smug smirk that makes you want to punch his face off or anything, and settles into bed beside you, grabbing your chin and tipping your head up so he can kiss you on the lips, sweet and gentle. Your heart skips a beat and then he pulls you in close to him, muttering to you to wrap your arms around him.
He's cuddling with you. You briefly wonder if he's ever cuddled after sex before. You doubt it- he doesn't seem like the cuddling type, which is what made you reluctant to ask in the first place- but you didn't have to ask.
You almost mutter that you love him, but that's stupid. Really stupid. Instead, you press your face against his chest, mutter 'goodnight,' against his skin, and drift off to sleep.
'I love you' is an unspoken thing here, you think. You don't say it, he doesn't say it- but he loves you, and you love him. That's alright with you, because you don't need to be reminded.
Everything that just happened is reminder enough.