Work Text:
Your name is DIRK STRIDER, and you have just had the best night of your life.
==>Dirk: Explain
You have been dating Jake for a while. You’ll never admit it, but you’re completely fascinated by him. The way he loves adventure, his interest in skulls, his bad, affected British/Australian accent. But you’ll never, ever tell him that. You’re too cool. Too stoic.
The first few months were spent feeling each other out, getting used to each other. It was odd to see each other in person, be able to hear each other without a phone or mike… And be more than just “best bros”. But you both learned. He learned how to tell when you were teasing, even if your voice sounded the same, how to know when you were upset, how to read you like a fucking book (you seriously have no clue how he managed to learn that). You learned that Jake, having lived on the island alone sometimes, sometimes had to be reassured that you were indeed real and right there with the occasional touch.
==>Dirk: Get to the point
Alight, dammit. Be that way. See if you care. In fact, you cared so little-
==>Dirk: Seriously?
Fine, fine.
Anyway.
Tonight was the night. No, The Night, with capitols. And italicized.
You had gone out to dinner with him. Ironically, he’d taken you, although when he got up to pay the bill you slipped that same amount of cash into the pocket of his jacket, hanging off the back of the chair. He’d know what it was and who it was from, but Jake had given up the battle a long time ago. But you digressed.
When you got into the car, you casually suggested that he stay over at your place. It wasn’t that out of the ordinary- he stayed over pretty often, watching his movies with you and talking and cuddling. It was a thing that happened. But tonight, you knew that it was not going to be movies and sloppy, PG-rated make-outs. You imagined he knew that, too, with the way he smirked and licked his lips before saying a quiet yes, he’d love to. And oh god, he’d dropped his accent.
Inexplicably, you find this to be incredibly sexy, and immediately resolve to make him completely lose his accent by the time you are done with him.
You managed to drive back to your house in record time. The look he gave you was downright sinful, and you barely managed to shut the door behind you before Jake was pinning you to it and kissing you with a vigor you heartily approved of. But you knew you weren’t going to let him win this power struggle. You caught one wrist and flipped your positions, staring down at him through your shades. His sultry smile matched yours, and you spent a beat (you should remember that for sicknasty raps later, spent a beat) just watching him. You were going to fucking make this happen. You knew it. He knew it. And was okay with it.
Truth be told, you’d known he’d have said yes for a while now. But you didn’t really want to push it. Jake was a really physical person, what with being alone that island alone so long and all, and you hadn’t wanted him to say yes just because he liked to touch and be touched. You wanted him to want you for you, and even as fucking sappy as that sounded, you’d stuck to it. Even when that meant cold showers and some quality time with your right hand. Fucking up something as amazing as this, just to fuck, wasn’t worth it.
But, tonight was The Night, and you hoped knew you making the right choice, after waiting so long.
“Penny for your thoughts, a dime if they’re about me, and a quarter if you’re thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’,” said Jake, quietly and into your ear, customary accent dropping back in place for just half of the sentence. Why was it sexy that he could turn it on and off like that? It made no sense. You bent down to whisper back in his ear, “I don’t have any money on me. Is there some other way I could pay you, English?”
“Depends.” The way he bit his lip was definitely illegal in some states. No doubt. “Can you catch me?”
You barely had time to register what he’d said before Jake was slipping out of your hold, around you, and down the hall. Oh shit, it was on now. You chased after him grinning, catching up to him just as he was opening the door to your room. It was child’s play to grab his forearms and give a gentle shove, making him fall on our bed. You crawled on up after, straddling his waist and smirking down at him. Jake just smiles at you for a second, then reaches up and pulls off your pointy anime shades, laying them carefully on the bedside table with his own glasses.
One look into his green eyes and you lose whatever remnants of restraint you had. You lean down to kiss him, full of probing tongues and little sounds from the both of you as you run your hands all over that body. You break away long enough for you to tug Jake’s clothes off, and he returns the favor. Naked, and completely at ease with that, you begin kissing Jake’s neck. You would notice that he’s already half-hard and so are you, but you’re a bit preoccupied at the moment. Instead of thinking about anything besides the boy under you on this bed, you focus on moving down from Jake’s neck to his chest, wanting to taste every inch of skin before you’re done. When your tongue traces one nipple, he lets out a small cry, and you smile, loving the sound. You lavish attention on both nipples, rubbing and flicking one with your fingers, and sucking and licking on the other. Your free hand traces random, spiraling patterns on his skin. He keeps making little happy noises, but when his hips roll up into yours you have to stop. Fuck foreplay.
You give him one last lick before moving lower. But just before you can do anything, Jake puts his hands on either side of your head, pulling you into another hot, hungry kiss. When you pull back to breath, a small string of saliva connects your lips for a second, but it breaks when Jake starts to speak.
“Let me have some fun,” He said, with the downright sluttiest, sexiest goddamn smirk you have ever seen in your life. He puts on hand on your chest, pushing you up into a sitting position. Moving out from under you, he smiles one more time before leaning down between your legs. For a moment, all he does is look at your, poised near but not quite touching your dick. Then, first one finger, then a hand began touch and tease, and it’s so good. You hiss with pleasure, and Jake gives you that sinful look again. You have no time to anticipate what he’s doing, before he’s taking you into his mouth. It’s not all the way, but wow and you choke back a sound. What it was, you aren’t sure.
He pulls back some, and then all the way. The air is cold on your sensitive, wet skin, but you forget that the moment Jake flicks his tongue out, teasing at the head before licking the whole way up the shaft, taking his time. You whimper keen- Oh fuck it, you whimper and then you’re back in that, hot, wet mouth again. You begin involuntarily twitch your hips, and he meets your sporadic rhythm enthusiastically. “J- J- Jake-” you stutter, so close as the heat and intensity pools at the bottom of your stomach. He pulls back, and you’re both grateful and sad at the same time, because now it’s time to prepare for the main event.
You pull him up to you, and then push him down again so his back is, once again, on the mattress. “Ready?” You ask, and he nods. You fumble around in the drawer of the nightstand, before finding the lube. You spread a liberal amount on your fingers before kissing him, plunging one finger into his puckered entrance. He winces, but you need to stretch him out a bit or else or it’s going to hurt a lot worse. But you distract him anyway, with kisses and light, soft brushes of your hand on his member. When you feel he’s ready, you slide in a second, slippery finger, moving around and trying to find-
Jake throws his head back, and lets out the most sexual, porn-star worthy “oh!”.
Found it.
You ride the spot, listening to his moans escalate, slipping in the third finger that he may or may not notice. A few more moments, and you hope he’s ready. Once more you pop the lid on the lube, coating yourself with it using your free hand. Finally, though, you take your hand back, and Jake whimpers at the loss. You position yourself at the entrance, wrapping his legs around your torso, before meeting his green, green eyes with yours. “Are you ready?” You ask.
“Strider?”
“Yes?” you ask, anxious at the quietness of his tone.
“Fuck me, right this instant!” He commands, laying his accent on thick. Oh, he’s good.
You drive yourself into him hard, and he cries out in pain and, you hope, pleasure. Still, you wait a second to let him adjust. God, what were you thinking? Being so rough the first time. But his voice stops that train of thought. “Dirk, what the devil fucking dickens are you waiting for?” He asks, in a strangled and accented tone, and you begin to move. Slowly at first, with long languid strokes. His hands arms around your shoulders as you pick up the pace, his voice in your ear telling you to go faster, faster. His accent is completely gone, and you feel accomplishment at meeting your goal, or at least getting a step closer to it.
You build and build and pick up speed, until your hands are grasping at his hips and pulling him back to your every thrust so that you can bury yourself a little more in the sweet, tight warmth that is Jake English. He’s loving it, if his stream (completely accent-free- yes!) of curses, your name, and random exclamations are any indication.
“Unn, D-Dirk, Dirk! Oh, god, Dirk, yes!”
You’ve found that sweet spot again, and you’re hitting it with every stroke, until finally something in Jake crumbles and he comes hard while screaming your name. That’s all it takes to throw you off of the edge, and you ride out the pleasure with Jake’s arms wrapped around you and yours around him, even if you’re still on top of him, inside of him. Jake’s cum is sticky on your chest and probably his, and will soon start to feel gross but you don’t care.
The afterglow is wonderful, and just a few seconds in, Jake leans his head against your shoulder and kisses it. “Dirk. I love you.” It’s not something you haven’t said before, or that he hasn’t said before, but it pushes some hidden button, a trigger, inside of you.
And you start to cry. Little, small sounds and lots of tears crying, one step this side of bawling. You’re not entirely sure why… But- Just-
For once your words are failing you. You, King of Sicknasty Beats And Rap Battles, have no words to explain what is going on, even to yourself. So, instead you sit up, detangling yourself from Jake’s arms and slipping out of him, even moving off and away from him to wipe your eyes and maybe regain a little dignity. But it’s not working, and you continue to cry.
Jake pushes himself up, moving over to you. You vaguely wonder if his bottom should hurt, then wonder why it would hurt now instead of the next morning and why you used to word ‘bottom’ and not ‘ass’.
Not noticing your internal monologue, Jake sits in front of you and reaches out to touch your face, wiping away some tears. You figure your dignity is pretty much as gone as completely as an unsuspecting martini anywhere near Lalonde’s immediate vicinity, and nuzzle (yes, nuzzle) your cheek into Jake’s palm.
“Hey Dirk, are you okay? What’s wrong? Dirk?”
His accent still hasn’t come back, but even the small triumph your feel at that doesn’t stop the tears. So instead of saying anything, you just shake your head.
This is apparently the wrong thing to do, because Jake immediately begins to freak out, pulling his hand back and saying, “Is it me? Was I not good enough? Dirk? Do you… Do you not love me back?” And now Jake, too, is now on the edge of tears.
“No!” You practically shout it, turning to look him dull in the face, in those green eyes you love so much. “Oh God no, Jake! You were fine, you were wonderful and amazing and every other motherfucking positive adjective in the world!” Finally, you think you might know the reason behind your tears. “I just… Oh, fuck! Jake English, I love you so much!” You’re crying harder again. “I just felt like I was using you! Taking advantage of you! But I don’t want to do that, Jake, because I love you more than I can ever, ever say and I motherfucking know that I don’t say it enough as is!” Pretty lame speech, especially for you (what would your Bro say) but it seems to be the right move. Jake smiles, softly and tenderly, and leans forward to give you the sweetest kiss you’ve ever had. You begin to stop crying, and Jake whispers quietly to you. “You have never taken advantage of me. Everything I do is of my own free will. You know damn well you can’t make me do anything,” He says, and you laugh, and he keeps smiling, those cute buckteeth resting on his bottom lip for a fraction of a second before he continues. “And, Dirk, even if you don’t say it often, that’s fine, because then it means more when you do something like this.”
Your tears have stopped, and you’re both staring at each other like stupid grinning idiots. Finally, you both crawl under the covers together, still covered in cum and lube and spit. But you don’t mind, and you just pull Jake to snuggle up close to you and close your eyes.
You’re not sure what the next morning will be like, and you just know Jake’s gonna lay it on thick with the uke card and moan about how much he hurts and probably be really irritable. But somehow, you look forward to it.
As you’re falling asleep, you realize Jake hadn’t used his accent since he came, and smile.