Work Text:
Jerry struggles to open the door to Dave’s apartment, carefully having to shift the to-go box to his free hand. Once the door is open, he relaxes slightly and then steps through the doorway into the apartment. A rancid stench wafts its way over to Jerry. He resists the urge to drop the food and covers his nose as the smell overwhelms him. Looking across the room, he spots the source of the putrid odor.
Dave glances up from a magazine, a smile splitting across his face. "Oh, thank god you’re here, Jerry; I’ve been wasting away.” He cries out from his bed. Jerry immediately notices the injured leg that rests elevated on a pillow. Unfortunately, that isn’t the only thing he notices about Dave.
“God damnit, Dave, why don’t you have any clothes on?”
Dave just looks down at himself in response and gives a half-assed shrug. “First off, it’s my fucking place, so I don’t have to wear anything I don’t want to, and second of all, you clearly have no idea how hard it is trying to get anything on over a cast.” He motions towards a torn pair of jeans on the floor. “I barely got my underwear on, it’s just too much work, so I gave up on the pants.”
Jerry picks up the torn pair of pants. He is a bit surprised to see that they are actually torn on the same pant leg as Dave’s cast, meaning he likely isn’t lying. He throws the pants back onto the floor and nods, thinking it over. “That’s reasonable, but that still doesn’t explain why you don’t have a shirt either. Underwear is arguably the most challenging thing you could’ve put on, and everything else would have been easy. You couldn’t at least wear a robe or some-“ Jerry’s flusters of annoyance are cut off by a loud, overexaggerated groan from Dave.
"God, dude, you’re making this so gay. Can you stop being a homo for 5 seconds and just give me my food instead of focusing on me basically being naked?” Dave reaches out expectantly for his dinner. Jerry, however stands still, not moving forward to offer anything, as his face visibly reddens from anger and embarrassment.
His tightened grip on the to-go box results in one of the sides tearing open, causing a few fries to fall out onto the floor. “I’m not the gay one here! If anyone’s gay, it’s you! You’re the almost-naked one here! Not me!” Jerry now wildly swings the box around, causing more fries to fly across the room.
"Woah, dude, calm down!” Dave ducks his head to avoid narrowly getting whacked by a flying fry. Jerry is about to respond again, but then Dave interrupts Jerry before he has a chance to speak. "Dude, let’s just forget about it for now. I’m too fucking hungry to even give a shit.”
With a bit more clarity, Jerry finally manages to relax, and he is embarrassed by the mess he made. He apologizes to Dave and hands him the to-go box before going on a mission to gather up all of the flung-out fries. Thankfully, since Dave had interrupted Jerry’s ranting defense over his sexuality before things escalated, only a minimal amount of fries were split. As he picks up the fries and various other pieces of trash off the floor while he’s at it, it occurs to him that Dave is still talking to him. Glancing up from the floor, he manages to catch the end of whatever Dave happens to be going on about.
“-so yeah, I didn’t even know a pogo stick could do that to a leg, especially when using it to jump out of a window. Doctor Gupta says I shouldn’t walk on this leg for, like,..” He pauses to think. “About two months. So I get to go on paid medical leave, so honestly, it was worth it.” He smirked before taking a bite of his burger.
Based on the state of Dave’s room being worse than usual and the fact he had to beg Jerry for food because he couldn’t get it himself, Jerry was doubtful of how ‘worth it’ it could really be. However, there was no denying that Dave was being genuine. Which only served to anger Jerry as he reflected on what Dave just told him. “How did you get Larrity to approve that? He wouldn’t even let me take time off when I was hit by a car.” He crosses his arms as he glares down at Dave.
“Well, you didn’t even get hurt from that.” Dave makes it a point by painstakingly wiggling the toes of his broken leg. This just serves to infuriate Jerry even further.
He clenches his fist, causing the fries that he picked up to mush together in his palms and in between his knuckles. “I DID GET HURT! I was still bleeding from my head, and he wouldn’t even let me get a bandaid, much less go to the hospital.” He spews at Dave, angrily pointing, with his clean hand, to a cicatrice at the corner of his head. It was visibly not fully healed, and it certainly looked like it still needed to be checked by a doctor.
However, Dave squints his eyes while looking at it and then just shrugs. "Well, there you have it, Jerry. You just had a few minor injuries that were easily treatable, while I’m confined to my bed like a diseased dog.” He flashes a look of faux sadness, glancing rapidly between Jerry and his leg. Jerry can’t help but roll his eyes in response.
He sighs and rubs his temple. "Okay, but still, how did you manage to get two whole months off???” Dave laughs in response, then takes a second to shove a handful of fries into his mouth.
After he swallows, Dave wiggles his finger to beckon Jerry over. Jerry sits down on the bed and leans close as Dave smirks and whispers, “I just told him I’d work from home. Easy peasy.” He shrugs slightly and then takes another handful of fries, crumbs, and salt, tumbling from his mouth and onto his chest and bedsheet.
Jerry can’t help but just stare at Dave as he chews. It takes him a minute to register what Dave told him: “And have you been working from home??” Dave stops chewing, looks at Jerry, and then places a hand on his shoulder.
Jerry can’t help but pick up on a nervous, but also expectant, look reflecting in Dave’s eyes. "See, that’s the thing, Jerry. I would get my work done, but just look around. It’s a mess in here. I can’t fold my laundry, my mini fridge broke, and my keyboard is covered in trash, so even if I wanted to-“ Dave leans even closer to Jerry, with that stupid, sarcastic grin that Jerry has become all too familiar with over the years. “-I really couldn’t. It’s just too messy, and god, with my shattered, broken, maimed leg, I can barely crawl to the restroom as is, or call up a prostitute! So how can I do something as complicated as work? That’s inhumane to ask of an injured man!” He cries out in such exaggerated, fake distress that Jerry struggles not to cringe. But still, he can’t help but pick up an undertone of genuine perturbation. “You understand what I’m asking, don’t you?”
Jerry shifts uncomfortably, he wants to tell Dave no. That there isn’t any way he would clean Dave’s room, or his laundry, or carry him to the bathroom to take a shit, or get him a hooker, or whatever it is he wants. But he also knows that he will probably end up doing whatever it is Dave asks him to do. If Dave can’t work, then that affects Jerry, and then it affects the whole company. He isn’t always the most productive of guys, but when it’s needed, he can sometimes pull his own weight, which is often more than enough. And besides, the request might not be terrible.
He rubs his forehead, and with a sigh of resignation, he asks the dreaded question. “What do you want?” He immediately realizes that there is absolutely no backing out of it now. The second he says those few words, a smile splits across Dave’s face, and Jerry just knows that whatever he wants is going to happen.
“Oh well, nothing much. I can probably handle some of this mess myself with your help. But I can’t even think about any of that stuff until I take a bath.” Dave carefully shifts so that his legs are hanging off the edge of the bed and he is in a sitting-up position. When Jerry just continues to give Dave a confused stare, he furrows his brow. "C'mon, dude, you don’t have all day!”
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I fully understand. Do you want me to clean your room while you take a bath? Or do you want me to start a bath for you so that you can clean later?” Jerry stares perplexingly at Dave’s leg. “Dave, you can’t even bathe with a cast. I don’t mean to sound like a dumbass, but I still have no fucking clue what you’re asking me to do.”
The way Dave stares in response causes Jerry to feel like he must have missed something very obvious, but looking back, he still can’t understand what Dave was asking of him. Finally, Dave just sighs in exasperation, “Do I have to spell everything out for you, dude? I need you to bathe me.”
Jerry blinks.
“Bathe you….?”
Out of all of the things Dave could have requested, this clearly wasn’t at all what he had been expecting. Dave rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Yes, physically take a wet sponge, or a rag, or something and soap, and rub me down. There is no way I’m getting in a tub of water and ruining my cast, then I’d have to go back to the doctor.” He leans closer to Jerry’s face with an almost serious look on his face. “We both know that anyone who works at Gameavison doesn’t have the kind of insurance that covers frequent trips to Doctor Gupta. So please, Jerry.” Dave clasps his hands together and shakes them enthusiastically. “Please help your best friend out. Save him from years of medical debt by taking one for the team and scrubbing down his rugged naked body.”
It’s too much for Jerry, he stands up from the bed and is already involuntarily making his way to leave when he feels Dave grab his wrist. He swings around, yanking his hand away. “Seriously Dave. What the fuck. I don’t care that you’re so disgusted by your own filth that you can’t do your job. That’s your own problem!” He jabs a finger into Dave’s chest. The remaining French fry gunk finally slumps off. “Get someone else to scrub your asshole. I’m sure Clarence or Clare would love to. Hell, you could probably easily trick Todd into doing it if you really needed to.”
He just shakes his head and slaps Jerry’s hand away in response. “No bueno, dude. We both know you’re the only person who I trust enough and would be willing to help me.”
Dave’s face suddenly tightens into a very serious expression, and he looks up at Jerry with a genuine earnestness in his eyes that he’s only ever expressed very few times in all of their years of friendship. Dave wouldn’t verbally admit it, but that look was as close as he ever could get to being at absolute rock bottom, begging for help. And Jerry just couldn’t leave him there. Despite all the shit Dave pulls, he just can’t leave him, not like that. Jerry exhales in defeat.
“Okay, dude. I’ll bathe you.”
Dave lets out a whoop of joy and pumps his fist. “Awesome dude, I knew you were a true friend. Now help me to the bathroom! I needed a bath like yesterday.” He places his good foot on the ground and reaches out to Jerry.
As Jerry wraps an arm over his shoulder to steady Dave, he gets a very strong whiff of Dave’s odor, and it takes everything in him not to vomit. “Gah, you weren’t kidding. More like you needed a bath two weeks ago.” He moves forward eagerly to the bathroom, with Dave leaning against him in support.
Once in the bathroom, he carefully helps ease Dave to sit down on the edge of the tub. Then he leans over to turn on the faucet. He checks to make sure that the water is warm enough to be nice, but without being scalding. Dave eyes Jerry, and then the water filling up the tub wearily. "Dude, I told you I’m not getting in that tub with my cast,” he nervously shifts further forward along the edge of the tub.
"Relax, dude, you aren’t getting in the tub. I just need water to wash you with.”
He sighs and dips a sponge in the water. It’s surprisingly in good condition, either indicating that it’s new or that Dave doesn’t shower nearly enough with a sponge to warrant it becoming unusable. Based on Dave’s usual odor, Jerry is willing to bet that it is the latter scenario.
With his free hand, Jerry picks up a bar of soap and turns towards Dave. But he freezes, not scrubbing, or washing, or drying, just staring as what he is about to do dawns on him.
Dave stares down at Jerry, kicking him lightly with his good leg. "C'mon, dude, I don’t have all day. If you want me to get that work done, you’ve got to get to soaking me down.”
When Jerry doesn’t respond, Dave reaches down to grab the sponge from him. Jerry quickly pulls away, his full attention snapping back into the present moment. “Hey! Look, Dave, I’m just struggling a bit here, I don’t understand why you can’t do it yourself.” Water drips from the sponge onto the floor.
“Because you’re the only person I can rely on, Jerry. You’re my best friend. And you are the least embarrassing possible choice out of anyone who I could ask such a huge favor from.” Jerry stares at Dave and at his body. His hand clenches the sponge tightly, and it seeps out onto the floor. Dave shrugs off-handedly. “I mean, sure, having a girl do this would’ve been nice, but honestly, this is a vulnerable moment that has to be bro to bro.” While saying this, Dave points at himself, then switches to point at Jerry, pressing his finger against his chest. He doesn’t point out how Jerry’s body trembles.
He shrugs slightly. “And besides, it’s just a normal bath, there are no ulterior motives at all.” However, as he says this, there is a glint in his eyes that indicates something more.
Jerry relaxes his body with a sigh and just nods. “Sure, sure, whatever, dude..” He crouches down and tentatively places the sponge against Dave’s shoulder, and slowly rubs it. Initially, it is a bit awkward, both are quiet, but after a while, Jerry seems to calm down, and the washing comes off more naturally. He soaps and wipes down Dave’s arms, armpits, and hands, and then towels them off. Once Dave’s upper appendicular section is done, Jerry dips the sponge back in the water.
Next on the list of things to wash are his back, stomach, chest, and legs. They all seem to be increasingly more awkward places for a dude to wipe down another dude. While it’s best said to get the worst out of the way, Jerry was at the moment too overrun with cowardice. “Dave, can you tilt to the left slightly? I’m going to wash your back now.” And to Jerry’s surprise, Dave does so without any kind of quip or insult. However, this short period of compliance is broken immediately when Dave hollers and practically jumps up from the tub. Jerry drops the sponge in alarm.
"Dude, you got my underwear wet! It just slid down the crack!” Dave turns his head around as best he can to try and see the damage. After a second or two, he gives up trying to look for the spot and just feels for it. He pinches the wet patch angrily. “Just look, Jerry! My last good, clean pair! Soaked!” The spot is barely bigger than the size of a quarter.
Dave lets go of the spot and places his hands on his hips. "Well, it looks like I just have to take them off. I don’t want to risk getting them wet any further.” And before Jerry can even object, Dave has already yanked them down, only momentarily slowing down as he struggles to pull it over his cast.
Jerry realizes his mouth is open, halfway ready to say something about how there wasn’t any way in hell he was soaping up Dave naked. He closes it, either way, he’s still going to wind up scrubbing down Dave, and arguing would just prolong it. With a clenched jaw, he picks up the sponge and moves to wash down Dave’s legs.
He starts on his thighs, going as low as physically possible without Dave noticing Jerry’s intentions to stay clear of his dick. Once past the knees, he lets out a small sigh of relief, out of sight and out of mind. Only half true in this case, but still better than nothing. He tries to stay low for as long as possible, taking his time with the soap and sponge. Even going as far as to offer to shave Dave’s legs. However, the bewildered stare he gets in response to the offer quickly shuts this idea down.
All that’s left are his chest and stomach. As long as Jerry doesn’t look down, it will be fine, it will all be over. With a less-than-steady hand, Jerry dips the sponge into the water and drags it across Dave’s chest. There is a thick tension in the air. They can both feel it. Dave’s breathing slows exponentially, holding it for increasingly longer periods of time each time Jerry rubs his chest with the sponge.
Jerry’s hand trembles the lower it gets. He tries to press himself closer to Dave to keep the penis low and out of his line of sight. As he scrubs along Dave’s lower stomach, he finds this task to be impossible. He can see it in all of its erect glory. He swallows and momentarily looks at his grip on the sponge once again. He mutters some kind of apology as he bends down to scoop it up.
It’s directly in front of him now. He attempts to think of some way to move away from this. It is while he is trying to think of any other places on Dave’s body that he can shift his attention to washing that he realizes there is only one last dirty spot.
He glances up at Dave. He is surprised to find that Dave’s face is more flushed than he has ever seen it before. And yet, still, just ever so faintly on his lips, there is still a trace of that familiar smug smile.
“One last place left to wash. And it really needs a thorough cleaning.”
Jerry feels Dave’s hands snake their way into his hair. Slowly, but surely, taking root. He stifles a small whine as Dave’s fingers suddenly grip the back of his head, yanking him forward.
Jerry doesn’t try to pull away, he doesn’t yell at him or laugh it off. Instead, he places his hands on Dave’s legs and leans in.
It’s initially odd at first, the thought that this was his best friend’s dick in front of him. But it quickly leaves his mind as he lowers his jaw. Gently, he takes the dick into his mouth. He can’t say that any kind of technique came naturally to him, rather, he felt himself overcome with the instinctual urge to just do whatever seemed right.
His urges must be correct because it wasn’t long until he heard Dave moaning above him. Eager to draw out more of Dave’s reaction, he picks up his speed, still acting with the same level of intensity and attention to Dave’s cock but struggling to take him further. However, he is not held back by this for long as Dave pushes his head further down, almost causing Jerry to choke.
He manages to maintain his composure and continues to work his tongue at a furious pace, causing another loud moan to escape from Dave’s lips. “That’s perfect, dude. God, you really make a great whore.” He relaxes his fingers, letting go of the back of Jerry’s head.
The praise goes straight to Jerry’s dick, which has been slowly but surely straining against his pants, mostly unnoticed. Now that it has been brought to his attention, Jerry’s sexual frustration rises, causing each moment spent pleasuring Dave to become agonizing for himself. Unable to move his hands off of Dave out of fear of losing his balance, Jerry lets out a small whine.
Without the use of his own hands to relieve his tension, he shifts his body ever so slightly and begins to rut against Dave’s cast. He can feel Dave tense up, whether it was because of Jerry’s inappropriate use of his cast or because he was climaxing or both, was not entirely known, at least not for long.
With the problem of Jerry’s frustration being temporarily solved, he focuses his full attention back on Dave. Desperate to achieve more praise, he picks up his speed, bobbing back and forth as far as he can. Tears spring to his eyes as he pushes himself past any merits of pleasure he’s ever attempted before.
Dave’s fingers dig tightly into Jerry’s hair, his eyes rolling back and his thrusting becoming more erratic. “Almost there. So clos-“ Before he can even finish speaking, he releases into Jerry’s mouth. Startled for a moment, Jerry pulls away and chokes, and sputters momentarily, struggling to catch his breath. Cum dribbles from his mouth and down onto his shirt. He groans over ruining his clothing, and despite this, he is still frustrated.
“Wow. Jerry, I didn’t even know you had that in you.” Dave pants out, his face still red but visibly more composed than he was earlier. “I should tell all the guys at work how great of a cocksucker you are. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind giving them a helping hand..” Dave smiles down at him. “Or mouth.”
Jerry just whines, and with his now free hands, he quickly hurries to unzip his fly and free his painfully erect cock. He furiously palms it in desperation before getting a good hold to pump it. He doesn’t even care how pathetic he must look to Dave as he watches him frantically touch himself.
Jerry’s response to the teasing seems to flip a switch in Dave’s head. “I bet you’d be appreciated a lot more if you were just a fuck toy for the office. I know I feel motivated right now to work on my games cause of that mouth of yours! Just imagine how productive we’d all be if you were there helping out under our desks. It would be just what I’d need for an early morning pick me up.” Dave sighs, and Jerry whimpers as they both picture it. “I bet Larrity would even give you a raise. You’d probably have to take in the ass though for that, but I’m sure you’d love that, wouldn’t you.”
Jerry groans and nods his head feverishly. Dave just smirks, "Dude, you have to fucking speak up. How am I supposed to know if you’d love that idea if you don’t say yes?” Jerry mumbles out some slurred ‘yes’ and ‘please’. “What about if you let the guys take turns having their way with you? I’m sure a big guy like Dean would have a lot of stamina to take out on all of your holes.” Dave snorts, standing up and hobbling over to grab a towel, nearly doubling over with laughter. “Oh dude, just try and imagine him holding you down while he totally pounds you!!”
Jerry can imagine it. He can’t stop imagining it. With a final cry, he cums onto the floor.
Dave looks down at the spunk and then back at Jerry with a smile. "Woah, dude, I can’t believe you actually like that stuff, you’re so nasty." He lets out a small snicker, then tosses a spare towel to Jerry, who is still sitting there exhausted, as everything that just happened fully sets in. “Thanks for the bath and friendly chat, seriously, that was so enlightening.”
Jerry looks up at Dave, who, by this point, is almost out of the bathroom. “I just have one more request from you, take a bath, dude! You reek!” And with that, he closes the bathroom door.