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You’re pretty sure that it’s three o’clock when you get to Dirk’s house, and you’re pretty sure that three o’clock is the time that, in the midst of a pretty intense debate over Pesterchum, you agreed to meet in order for him to get his ass kicked in Smash Bros, and so you’re pretty sure that you should not be facing down a door that has not budged even after three separate, increasingly elaborate knocks.
With most of your friends, you wouldn’t bat an eye, but Dirk tends to be punctual. It’s one of the things that you’ve learned about him in the past few months, during which the two of you have struck up a friendship that you didn’t really anticipate. It started out as a kind of default - everyone else has pretty much paired off, after all, leaving the two of you to mingle at parties and pretend not to acknowledge, like, Rose and Kanaya making out in a corner or whatever - but now, you’ve found yourself enjoying his weird company more often than not.
And you’re pretty sure that the feeling is mutual, so again, you really don’t know why you’re raising your fist to knock on his door for the fourth time. If it was Dave’s place, you’d already have gone inside. But there are lots of things about Dirk that, if you’re being honest, you just don’t get. You have a feeling that most of his façade is just that, the same kind of Strider bullshit you’ve gotten decent at seeing through, but the guy somehow manages to be more unreadable than Dave. It’s as impressive as it is annoying.
Your fourth knock gets just as much of a reaction as your previous three, so you pull your phone out of your sweatshirt pocket and pester Dirk.
ectobiologist [EB] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]
EB: dirk.
EB: i am outside of your house.
EB: you should let me in.
There’s no answer. Dirk, now that you look, isn’t even online. You know that the guy is all about being mysterious and whatnot, but this is starting to make you wonder if something’s wrong. Yeah, you’re all gods, but still. You wouldn’t exactly put it past Dirk to have a spontaneous psychic break or something of the sort.
This all leaves you with one option, and you open the door to Dirk’s place with a healthy mix of curiosity and trepidation. There’s no sign of life in the entryway, but you head down the hall to his room. The guy manages to be even more of a homebody than you half the time, which means that you’re not surprised to find the door closed and the glow of orange LEDs streaming out from under it.
What’s more of a surprise is … well, everything that happens after you open the door. It happens like a series of freeze frames. First, Dirk’s face turning towards you. He’s not wearing his shades and his eyes are wide. Second, Dirk’s pants, or more specifically, the fact that they’re at the foot of the bed that’s he lying on. Which is to say, not on him. Third, Dirk’s hand, which is wrapped around his dick. Fourth, Dirk’s dick, which is spurting come all over his hand and - bare, as if you could forget - thighs.
This is where the imaginary camera cuts to your face as your jaw drops. Dirk makes a sound that, even given eternity, you couldn’t find a word to identify properly.
“Uh-“ you say, stammering to fill the sudden silence. “Your dick is bigger than I expected.”
Dirk looks at you for a long, long moment. The way he blinks makes you think of a cat. A really weird cat with - actually, no, you’re not finishing that sentence.
“What the fuck, Egbert?” Dirk finally exclaims.
For a moment, you’re worried that you said the bit about the cat out loud without realizing, but then you realize that he’s probably freaking about the obvious, which is the fact that you’ve walked in on him jerking off and now he’s making eye contact with you with his hand still on his dick, like he’s frozen in place.
“Sorry,” you say quickly, finally averting your eyes from him entirely and fixing them on the ceiling. The ceiling is safer than Dirk’s bright orange eyes or his dick, which is, just as you said, bigger than you’d expected. Not that you’ve thought about Dirk Strider’s dick size before, just … based on the vibes. “I thought we agreed on three?”
“We agreed on -?” Dirk starts, his voice incredulous, and then he stops. “Oh. Three o’clock. Fuck, is it that late already?”
There’s the sound of motion, but you force down your curiosity and keep looking at the ceiling. The problem, though, is that the ceiling is blank, which makes it a perfect canvas for your imagination. You just saw Dirk Strider come. It looked like there was a lot of it, too, from the way it spilled out over his fist and -
“Well, shit, I’d apologize if it wasn’t for the fact that you apparently expected me to have a small dick,” Dirk says. “Jesus, Egbert. You walk in on someone launching the pocket rocket and you tell them it’s bigger than you expected?”
“I - did you just call it a pocket rocket?”
“As far as I’m concerned, you should be prostrating yourself in front of me with apologies, so, yeah, I’m gonna call it whatever I want.”
At that, you look back at him, just … keeping your eyes firmly on his. You’re not even letting them dart down to where you can see motion in your peripheral vision as he sits up and reaches for something on his bedside table. It better be tissues.
“Hey, you’re the one that forgot about the time,” you point out.
“Shut up,” Dirk mutters. He tosses something that you’re still not looking at off to the side, then stands, and alright, your eyes do flick downwards. “You ruined my orgasm. You are in the wrong. And - Jesus, do you want to take a picture or something?”
“Sorry, sorry,” you say. It’s not that you want to look, but … you’re curious. To be entirely honest, it’s the first time that you’ve seen a dick in real life. It’s interesting. Porn doesn’t usually show the soft ones, and Dirk’s has a little bit of a curve to it, to the left. The head bumps against his thigh as he stands up and steps over to his dresser. He grabs a pair of shorts from a drawer before turning to fully face you, and you raise your eyes to his as you feel a flush rising to your cheeks. You don’t know how he’s managing to keep his face completely neutral during all of this, save for the eyebrow he raises when he sees whatever expression you’re giving him.
“Oh my god,” Dirk says, shaking his head. He doesn’t move to cover his dick, though. “Have you, like, never seen a cock before?”
That gets a snicker out of you that you try and fail to stifle, and Dirk shakes his head again. “What is it now?”
“You said cock,” you say, pulling yourself together with a performative deep breath. “Also, no.”
“Wait, what?”
“I haven’t seen a - you know. Not in real life, I mean.”
Dirk stops and straightens up from where he was bending down to step into his shorts. “That’s … okay, no, now that I think about it, I guess that makes sense. You’re not exactly racking up the bodies.”
“Hey,” you say, even though there’s no point in acting offended when you both know, first off, that it’s true, and second off, that Dirk’s in the exact same boat that you are. You know you should be working a little harder on your self control, but you can’t stop your eyes from glancing down again. It looks soft. Like, skin-soft, not the obvious. Which it also is. But you know.
“Are you going to be able to get your shit together or do we just need to reschedule for a time when the image of me jizzing isn’t the first thing in your recent memory?”
“Uh,” you say, and the thought that crosses your mind is out of your mouth before you can tell yourself that it really, really would be better off unspoken. “Can I like - see it?”
Dirk buries his face in his hands, which is a pretty funny image considering that he’s still holding his shorts and his face is now covered with what you’re pretty sure is a pattern made up of tiny Sweet Bros and Hella Jeffs. “I think you’ve already covered that base,” he says, his voice muffled.
“No, I mean,” you reply, because for some reason, you’re just continuing down this path. You’re curious, is the thing. You’ve never officially seen a dick before, and this seems a good of time as any to see what it’s all about. In a purely scientific sense, of course. Not like that, c’mon, you and Dirk are just bros. Buddies. “I’ve never seen one before.”
“As we’ve discussed, yes,” Dirk says dryly. “See again: no bitches.”
“That’s not - my point is, can I look at it?”
Dirk inhales but doesn’t say anything, and you’re just starting to consider turning into the wind - because, really, what do you even think you’re doing? - when he drops back onto the bed with a heavy sigh and says, “Yeah, fuck it. Knock yourself out.”
Now that you’ve been given permission, you almost don’t know what to do with yourself. Well, when in Rome?
You cross the room to the bed and crawl up onto it on your knees as Dirk arranges himself so that he’s lying with his head beside the pillow, resting it on his folded arms instead. It’s not that you didn’t know that he has a really nice body, but there’s a difference between knowing and seeing, properly, when he’s all stretched out like this. He’s toned but still slim, and the only hair you can see is the neatly-trimmed patch surrounding his dick.
“Do you shave your chest?” you asks, because you’re almost certainly past the threshold of socially-acceptable anyway.
“Twinks gotta twink,” Dirk says, a little nonsensically, and you roll your eyes as you get settled between his calves. You feel a bit like the world’s most inappropriate doctor.
“So…”
Dirk sighs again, but it doesn’t sound actually frustrated. “Don’t ask me what you’re supposed to be doing here. This is your rodeo.”
“I thought you were the cowboy,” you mutter, but you lean forward anyway. Dirk’s dick is fully soft now. It shrank more than you thought it would, but you manage to keep yourself from saying that one out loud. It feels like too big of a step to take it in your hand, so you lightly poke it with your index finger. Dirk turns his head to the side and tries to bury his face in his arm, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Interesting,” you say, poking it again. It lets itself get moved, but there’s a little bit of a bounce back, too, that you’d laugh it if you didn’t think Dirk might actually kill you for laughing at his dick.
Dirk tells his bicep something that you can’t make out.
“What?”
He lifts his head up just enough to give you a look that you might have thought was scathing back when you first met him and repeats, “Are you just going to poke it?”
“Is there something you’d rather I do?” you ask. You don’t entirely realize how it sounds until Dirk groans and drops his head back down, and you’re glad that he’s not looking at you to see your hot cheeks as you pinch it between your thumb and index fingers, just below the head, and lift it up. It’s got more weight to it than you would’ve expected. You bring your other hand over and touch the head, just rubbing the pads of your fingers over the soft skin. It’s soft and almost spongy, and - “Hey, wait, you’re not going to get hard, are you?”
Dirk heaves out a full-body sigh. “No. Not for a few, anyway, and not from whatever the fuck it is you’re doing.”
“Hey,” you say, more faux-offended than anything else. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Another sigh. This time, though, you’re pretty sure you heard a hint of a laugh at the end. “It means that you don’t know that most people aren’t going to get it up if you poke them, you have a whole lot to learn.”
“I’ve watched porn, dude, I’m not stupid.”
“Uh-huh,” Dirk says. “Sure.”
There are a lot of responses on the tip of your tongue, all of which are some variation on “Let me prove it to you,” but that feels just a little too far. He just came, anyway, which would mean that even your best efforts would go to waste. You settle instead for sticking your tongue out at him and reaching down lower to cup his balls in your hand.
They’re squishier than you’d expected, but you like the feeling, how soft the skin is as you rub the pad of your thumb over it. Dirk doesn’t say anything. You swear that the rise and fall of his chest is a little faster than before, though. “How does that feel?” you ask. Your one chance at thinking before you speak has been used up, apparently, and now it’s back to a reckless, anything-goes situation.
Dirk is quiet for so long that you think he’s just ignoring you before he finally says, “I thought you said you’ve watched porn, how do you think it feels?”
“Oh,” you say, because - well, if you’re just going off of that, Dirk’s doing a fantastic job of maintaining his composure. It’s strange to imagine, though, Dirk sounding like those guys. He more than looks like a lot of them.
“Yeah, oh,” Dirk says. It sounds like he’s snapping at you, but there’s no heat in it, probably because you’re still gently rubbing at his balls.
That thought, inexplicably, is the one that makes you pause. What are you even doing? You came over here to play Smash, not do whatever the hell it is that you’re doing.
Suddenly embarrassed, you sit back, letting go completely and idly wiping your hand on your thigh. Dirk lifts his head just enough to cut his eyes at you.
“What?” he says. “You done? See everything you wanted to?”
His words alone sound like they should be annoyed, but if anything, he just sounds kind of amused. Like he’s successfully gotten you to chicken out, or something. Then again, you’re not all that great at reading him sometimes. It’s equally likely that he’s just glad to have his balls left alone again.
“I guess,” you say. “What, did you want me to keep going?”
For a long moment, Dirk just stares at you. You’re still not entirely used to seeing him without his shades on. The guy’s … kind of intense. He’s also kind of an idiot, though, since it’s almost impossible to be intimidating in a situation where you’ve just had your balls played with. “What, did you want to?” he finally shoots back, deadpan as anything.
God, he’s such a shit sometimes. His question makes you think, though. Did you want to? Do you? It didn’t feel bad at all, and you’re kind of curious to see if you can pull any sounds out of him.
Dirk is still staring at you. It’s making you feel even more reckless than you’ve been already, and when he drops his gaze down to your shorts, then pulls it deliberately back up to your eyes, you find yourself swallowing hard. There’s something in the room that wasn’t here before. It makes you want to open your mouth, and you don’t try to resist it.
“Well,” you say. “I’ve never seen a hard dick either, really, and I guess I do owe you one.”
Dirk’s eyes widen. Not much, but enough for you to notice. It feels like a victory. “You owe me one,” he repeats. He tries to push one eyebrow up into a casual challenge, but it’s too obvious that he’s fighting to keep the rest of his expression blank for him to pull it off.
“Yeah.” You do, after all, don’t you? He said that you ruined it, which is fair enough. There’s nothing that says you can’t just pay him back, and he doesn’t have to know that you mostly want to do it to see his face when you do.
You … have a feeling that you’re going to have a lot of introspection to ignore later. You have no idea where this is all coming from. Sure, you’ve looked at Dirk before, but who hasn’t? And sure, sometimes you get a funny feeling in your chest when you look at him, but you guys smoke together almost every time you hang out, so, really, who’s to say? And sure, right now, letting your eyes fall back to his dick and imagining it hard in your hand makes something in your gut twitch, but that’s normal, isn’t it?
“John,” Dirk says carefully.
“Dirk,” you say back. He looks at you. You look at him. He keeps looking at you. You drop your eyes down to his dick, this time with purpose, and he exhales through his nose.
When you look up at his face again, Dirk half-raises his hands in the air, palms facing you. “Alright,” he says. “”S not like I’m going to turn you down.”
“You can, though,” you say. “Obviously.”
“Yeah, I know,” Dirk says. He does that thing again, where he looks you up and down like it’s the only thing he wants to do for the rest of the day, and you only just manage to stop a shiver from racing through your whole body. “But I’m not.”
“So …” It’s not that you’re trying to make sure that the two of you are on the same page - as far as you can tell, there’s no other page to even be on anymore - but just that now that you’re faced with it, you don’t know how to take the first step.
“So if you want to,” Dirk says, and - it’s tiny, barely noticeable, but he spreads his legs apart.
Something about it sucks the air out of your chest and makes your mouth go dry. You move forward before you can make the conscious decision to do so, and then you’re settled between Dirk’s Strider’s legs, his dick in your hand and his eyes steady on you.
You try to clear your throat, but your voice still comes out raspy enough to make Dirk smirk when you say, “Are you going to be able to. You know?”
Dirk laughs a little at that. The sound is low and doesn’t go anywhere but the space between the two of you, and you want to hear it again. “If you know what you’re doing, yeah.”
“Good,” you say, with more confidence than you feel. You’ve just been rubbing at the smooth skin of Dirk’s dick again, but now you switch your grip so that your palm is wrapped around it and start to move your hand up and down, slowly enough to watch the head squish in on itself each time it pops in and out of your fist. You can feel Dirk’s eyes on you.
“You can go a little faster,” he says, sounding more smug than you care for, and you intentionally slow your pace.
“You can be a little more patient,” you inform him, and he rolls his eyes but makes a show of zipping his lips. You know that won’t last long, but - it’s something.
You do want to get things going, though, especially because you’re pretty sure you’re getting wet, and you’d like to be able to slink on out of here and take care of that sooner rather than later. So you start moving your hand faster, just a bit, and Dirk’s teeth sink into his lower lip as his dick starts to stiffen in your hand. There are a million words on the tip of your tongue. You don’t want to risk breaking the spell that’s settling over the room by blurting out something stupid, though, so you stay quiet and just work your hand up and down, up and down.
It doesn’t take long before he’s fully hard. Even though you know it’s probably one of the least sexy things you could do right now, you take your hand away and just stare at it for a moment instead.
Dirk slaps a hand over his face with a noise that sounds like it hurt. “Are you kidding me right now,” he says flatly.
“I’m curious!” you protest, giving his dick a light poke. It bobs to the side, then right back to where it started. You know that you already saw it hard, but it still feels like it’s grown a good bit more than you would’ve expected in comparison to when it was soft.
“Alright, alright, quit pokin’ at it,” Dirk says. “You said you owe me, didn’t you?”
He drags his hand up into his hair and looks at you. It’s not quite a challenge but something like it, and you know that his eyes catch the way your throat works before you spit into your hand, then wrap it around his dick again.
You get into it a little faster this time, finding the same rhythm you were in before. Dirk closes his eyes and leans his head back against the pillow. You wonder what he’s thinking about. There’s a part of you, you think, that’s a little offended that he’s probably not thinking of you, but then again, you’re not really sure what you expected.
Still, though, he seems too … chill. Which might be part of his whole brand, yeah, but you’re pretty sure it’s currently not a five-star review for your skills.
You try to think back to the porn you’ve watched. It’s not very helpful, though, because you weren’t exactly watching to take notes on technique. One thing you think you remember is people doing weird things with their wrists, so you flick yours a bit the next time your hand comes up to the head of Dirk’s dick, and - it’s quiet, so quiet that you barely hear it over the sound of your own breathing rushing in your ears, but Dirk makes a sound.
You’d call it something like a whimper if you didn’t think he’d kill you for knowing that the thought so much as crossed your mind, and it hits you right in the gut in the best possible way. Oh, fuck, you might be in a little too deep here. And you might need to do some serious introspection once you’re home.
His eyes are still closed, but he looks a little more lost in it now, more like he’s, y’know, getting a handjob than trying to contemplate the ethics of AI or whatever it is that he does. You want to hear him make a sound like that again.
You shift yourself so that you’re balanced on your knees, then reach your free hand out and gently cup Dirk’s balls again. The sound that leaves him this time is louder, a little more broken, and his hips buck up - just a tiny bit - into your hand. You’re so wet that it’s going to start being an issue soon.
Dirk tips his head back further into the pillow, his left hand starting to curl into the sheets, and then he lifts his head up, looks right at you, and grabs onto your wrist to bring your hand to a stop.
“Is - is everything okay?” you ask. Oh, fuck, you hope you didn’t hurt him.
“No, no, it’s -” Dirk closes his eyes, then opens them again. “Are you sure you want to keep - you know. Because you don’t really owe me, like -”
“Hey, no, no,” you interrupt, letting go of his balls to wave his hand away. “I wouldn’t if I didn’t.”
Dirk takes a moment to think that over, but he lets you knock his hand away. “Do you want me to, you know. Get you back?” he asks, and that - well, now it’s your turn to take a moment.
Do you? It’s not like you’re not already past the point of no return, but …. Still. Everything to this point, for however much it’s worth, can be under the guise of you making it up to him for crashing in on him. On the other hand, though, you’re so turned on that it practically hurts, and if you continue down this road, it’s only going to get worse. “Yeah, okay,” you say, but then a new thought crosses your mind. “If you’re - I mean. We’re working with different equipment.”
Dirk has the nerve to look amused at that. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t interested,” he says, his voice low, and any chance you ever had of turning him down dissipates into nothing.
“Okay, okay,” you say, hoping that the heat in your cheeks isn’t too obvious. “Should I just … “
“I’ve been naked the whole time, I say we even this shit out.”
You feel like Dirk expected you to hesitate more, because his eyes widen just a bit when you wrestle your shirt off and drop it on the floor beside the bed. You’re less smooth with your shorts - it’s kind of a nightmare, because you don’t want to get off the bed but that just forces you to do some awkward knee-walking - but by the time that everything’s in a pile on the floor, he doesn’t look like he wants to laugh at you.
Dirk is looking at you like he never wants to do anything else. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire now, and you really, really don’t know how the two of you are going to go back to normal after this.
“I gotta admit,” Dirk says after a moment, “I’m not saying I didn’t know this before, but - you’re fucking hot.”
“Shut up.”
Dirk half-raises his hands in the air, like you’ve caught him out, and then does this little nod with his head that does nothing to disguise the way his gaze flicks down to between your legs. Knowing that he’s looking at you sends goosebumps tracing down your arms. “C’mon, then.”
“Well, yeah, I thought that was the whole point,” you quip, and he gives you a flat, exasperated look that loses all of its power the moment you move forward and wrap your hand around his dick again. “How do you want to do this?”
“Good question,” Dirk says, more to himself than you, and you rub your thumb over the head of his dick, pressing right against the slit, just for the way it makes his breath stutter. “Goddamnit, do you want me to answer or not?”
You give him your best shit-eating grin, but he knocks it right off your face by reaching up and using his hand to nudge your thighs apart. They don’t have much room to move, considering that your knees are sandwiched between Dirk’s legs and your balance is already shaky at best, but Dirk gets his hand up far enough to rub his fingers over your pussy, just once, and you quickly decide to fall forward so that you have your free hand to help with balance. Nevermind the fact that you’re now dangerously close to being within kissing distance. That’s a little hard to focus on when Dirk’s fingers are spreading your labia and teasing at your clit, his touch so light that you almost can’t stand it. You’re so wet that each movement of his fingers makes a sound in the quiet room.
“Fuck,” Dirk mutters. The sound comes out under his breath, but with how close the two of you are, there’s no way for you to miss it.
“Fuck,” you echo, giving him a smile that you suddenly can’t hold back. You have no idea what you’re doing. Thirty minutes ago, you’d never seen a dick in person, and now, Dirk Strider’s is twitching in your hand as you start to jerk it off in earnest. The one and only thing you know for certain right now is that you don’t want to change a single thing about what’s happening.
“You’re so fucking dorky,” he says. You would consider being insulted if it wasn’t for the way the corners of his lips are fighting their way upwards or the way that he’s maneuvering his hand so that his thumb is tracing stupid, teasing circles around your clit while another one of his fingers slips inside of you.
“Oh my god,” you say, closing your eyes for a moment. It’s … kind of been a while, and you’re more than kind of worked up. “You - you are not allowed to call someone dorky while you’re fingering them.”
Dirk laughs quietly, and you take pride in the way that a flick of your wrist turns the sound into a breathy sort of gasp. He starts moving his hand faster, and you do your past to match his pace. “Well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you started being dorky.”
“Well, maybe you should shut - oh my god - the fuck up,” you retort, and Dirk just laughs again. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, and you can already feel that tight feeling building in your gut, feel yourself somehow getting even wetter than you already are.
You tighten your hand a bit, almost without realizing, and Dirk’s hips jerk up into your hand again as his mouth falls open. You genuinely don’t think you’ve ever seen a better sight. It makes you want to say - something, but you’re pretty sure that anything that would come out of your mouth right now would be a little too close to cringy porn dialogue that Dirk would never let you live down.
You settle for biting your lip hard as Dirk adds a second finger, his free hand coming up to grab your thigh and hold you in place. You really need to ask him about his, uh, experience, because you were not expecting this from him.
“Goddamn,” he mutters under his breath, voice rough. You don’t know if it’s directed at you’re doing to him or what he’s doing to you but either way, you agree.
You know that you’re going to come way faster than you want to. You feel like you’ve been on the edge for ages, and Dirk is way too good at this, and you can tell that he knows it too from the way that he’s looking at you.
“Come on,” he says, so quietly that you’re not even sure if he said it at all. Your eyes catch on the movement of his lips, and the thought of kissing him crosses your mind just before you come and lose every train of thought in your mind.
You somehow manage to keep working Dirk’s dick even as he works you through it, and when he sees your eyes focus on him again, he gives you a smirk that’s way more smug than it has any right to be. “I’m that good, huh?” he says.
“Fuck off,” you say, moving your hand even faster. You think he’s getting close, his pupils are blown and his mouth is half-open, and - yep, there it is, he groans and comes over your hand, which should be gross but somehow really, really isn’t.
You pull your hand back and wipe it on the bed behind your back, where Dirk can’t see and yell at you for it, and give him the best grin you can manage while still catching your breath.
“What?” he says.
“Some lead you had there.”
Dirk gives you a flat look that’s ruined by the way his chest is still heaving. “You still came first.”
“Hey, you had an advantage,” you point out.
The eye roll that Dirk gives you is truly one for the ages. You stick your tongue out at him in response, and he shakes his head before he flops onto his side and stretches out to switch on the fan on the opposite nightstand. “I’ll show you next time, then,” he says. “We’ll play it fair.”
“It’s on,” you say, pushing your sweaty hair back from your forehead, and it’s only after you’ve spoken that the words really click. “Wait. Next time?”
Dirk rolls onto his back again and looks at you. He’s putting on his usual mixture of neutrality and bravado, but there’s something nervous hiding in it that’s more than a little endearing. “If you’re up for it.”
“Oh, I’ll show you up for it,” you tease, pointedly dropping your gaze to his dick again, and you’re not surprised when he lunges forward and tackles you backwards into the bed - thankfully away from the wet spot. There’s probably a lot that this means, but you don’t want to think about it right now. You have the feeling that it’s all going to work out.