Chapter 1: Nathan's Hot Dogs
Chapter Text
I’m texting my girlfriend around eight-thirty in the evening. Bro’s out on a Subway run. I’m kicking back in briefs and a t-shirt with Nathan’s Famous International Hot Dog Eating Contest 2011 on it. God knows I’ve never been to Coney Island, but the eBay advertising got me good.
The scene is mellow overall. I’m at like quarter-mast.
AG: Anyways, I ended up setting off the alarm, so I just 8ooked it 8ack out the patio door, hopped in my car, and left.
AG: And no8ody ever found out!
TG: god youre so fucking hot
TG: honestly im still stunned you bone me
TG: especially given the other options youve got
TG: like even the other options in this apartment alone
TG: with massive meat and a dom voice and an ass you could bounce half dollars off
TG: youre both so out of my league its not even funny
AG: Yeah.
AG: We are.
AG: ::::)
TG: haha
TG: what
TG: youre not supposed to agree with that
AG: Shhh!! You're ruining my lead-up.
TG: you didnt even let me make an ironically incorrect sports reference to follow up on the out of your league thing
AG: Oh my g8d.
AG: Okay, I was going to 8e all cagey a8out this, and it was going to 8e GREAT, 8ut I think it'll 8e more efficient to slap you across the face with it instead.
AG: I love you a fuckton, and you're hot. 8ut your 8rother's hotter, and I want to ride him like a camgirl on a Sy8ian while you jerk your little cock a8out it across the room.
AG: And don't even try to pretend you're affronted! 8ecause I DEFINITELY heard you moan his name when I pegged you.
AG: And I see the way you get squirmy when people make cucking jokes around you.
AG: And we 8oth know extreeeeeeeemely well how you react to humiliation!
AG: So, what do you say, Strider? ;;;;)
I am now at full mast.
Before I know it, or even really consider the consequences, I’m tugging the ol’ undies down and snapping a pic of my cock by way of response– it’s so hard it’s standing up off my belly. Is Bro bigger? How much? Is he cut? Does he shave? There’s a fluttering feeling in my chest. It’s the same one I get when I stand at the edge of my rooftop and look straight down.
AG: Hahahahahahahaha!
AG: Holy fuck. You're hard already????????
AG: That's insane!
AG: Tell me, Dave: how often do you think a8out your 8ig 8ro like this?
TG: a lot
TG: but like can you blame me hes a fucking adonis
AG: Nah. I totally get it.
AG: 8ut I can sure as hell mock you for it! 8ecause holy SHIT that's pathetic.
AG: ........
AG: You're getting off on me calling you pathetic, right?
TG: yes
TG: yeah
TG: a lot
AG: And you're saying you'd get off on watching him do me?
AG: Hmm??
TG: vriska
TG: you know im not a begging kind of guy
TG: but please
TG: fucking please can i watch you get wrecked by my bro
TG: ill do anything ill make you breakfast and buy you stuff and suck your toesies like youve got a fistful of chupa chups down there
TG: but please let me find out how a real strider fucks
Chapter 2: Dave Finds Out How A Real Strider Fucks
Chapter Text
I’m sitting on Bro’s bed, with Dave across the room in a chair. Bro’s next to me, and even though I heard him agree to this with my own ears, he’s being intense enough I’m starting to wonder if he wants to do it at all. I’ve spent the past few minutes feeling like a gift horse being silently looked in the mouth. Finally, he speaks, and–
“Your tits sensitive?”
“I mean– yeah, they’re sensitive enough, I guess.”
“Let’s see them, then.”
I blink, and say something really intelligent like “Wha-?” Bro doesn’t repeat himself– he just stares me down, forcing me to confront my own pink-faced reflection in the mirror of his sunglasses. My hands creep to the hem of my shirt, and I’m very careful not to look at Dave as I pull it up and show off my chest. I’m blushing like a schoolgirl, but I won’t let him intimidate me.
Silence hangs in the air. The longer he looks at me, the harder it is to stay still. He’s just… staring with no expression at all.
“You look like a slut right now.” It’s offered matter-of-factly, with no inflection, and I fucking melt. How dare he drag it out like this?? Except my pussy’s all warm and sensitive, and my nipples are getting stiff, and I’m not doing a very good job of pretending I’m as pissed as I should be. Nonetheless, I scoff and toss my hair back. “So what? You don’t seem like you mind too much!”
“Nah, I don’t. Makes it easier, for sure.” It’s obvious he wants me to fire something back, and I– hoookay never mind! His big, rough hands are on me, teasing at my nipples with his thumbs, and I squeak and press forward. I might be imagining things, but it seems like he’s smirking. “You like that, huh? Being retooled into a shameless toy?” My brain’s moving in fits and starts; I catch a whiff of citrus, and the glint of gold in one of his earlobes. My mouth is a soft, yielding O as I moan.
“Yeah, Daddy. I want it so bad.”
It’s not giving in. It’s strategizing.
He takes his hands away, and nods toward my body. “Strip.”
Fuck yes. I’m already wriggling out of my tank top and shorts when Dave makes a tiny noise behind me. I feel, more so than see, the way Bro’s attention shifts toward it, and the heady thrum of his voice makes me peel off my panties that much faster.
“Keep your fucking hands off yourself.”
For a second, Dave doesn’t respond, and then: “I literally cannot.”
This time, I can see the way the edge of Bro’s mouth curls. “If you act like a fuckin’ pervert, I’m gonna treat you like one.” Dave’s audibly breathless when he answers “Yeah, I know”.
There’s a few seconds where nobody says anything– the air’s full of a tension I’m not privy to. But I’m an opportunist, so I ignore all that lame bullshit and cozy up to Bro, kissing the side of his neck and feeling up those thick pecs. I’m being cute, I’m being coy and sexy, I’m being–
– thrown forcefully to the bed and pinned there by a hand on my throat, holy fuck. I moan, and it comes out wheezy and squeal-y. Kind of pathetic! I’d be upset if I wasn’t soaking the sheets right now.
I’m rewarded for the noise by a warning squeeze to the sides of my neck, making my head swim. My mouth falls open, and I stare up at him and hope he’ll get the idea if I stick my tongue out and do my best impression of a Fleshlight.
Disappointingly, all I get is a thumb on my tongue. He’s pressing it deeper before I’m done glaring at him– has Dave told him about my oral fixation, or is it just that obvious?– and my eyes go hazy. I start to suck on reflex, and my legs spread at the feeling of something to slide my tongue against. He huffs a little laugh and watches me, and I find I don’t mind at all. In fact, I arch and spread my legs wider, pleading with my eyes. I want it, I need it, please give it to me.
“Hm. That gentled you down fast, huh?”
Oh God in heaven. I nod, but it turns into me bobbing my head and fucking my mouth on his thumb. When I reach up to pull it deeper by the wrist, he lets me, but when I reach for my clit with my other hand he forces it to the bed. I whine, shifting restlessly, and dig my nails into his wrist. “Oh, honey. You’re only hurting yourself with that,” he murmurs, and doesn’t do anything about it. “Because now if I give you what you want, I’ll be training you to do this. So I’ve gotta hold out, you understand?”
I glare at him, and take his thumb as deep as I can, and gag. He snorts. “Dave?”
“Yeah?” It’s really strained. I can hear a rhythmic skin-on-skin noise.
“You ain’t coming tonight.”
“Thank you.”
“Please,” I wail. “I can’t cum anymore, I’ll die.” “Too bad,” rumbles the voice in my ear, and Bro’s cock drills home and makes me choke out another guttural noise. There’s spit running down my chin, and sweat on my face, and I’m so wet it’s dripping down his balls. Dave’s mindless groaning floats around the periphery of my senses. I’m dimly aware of having glimpsed him a few minutes ago: slumped in the desk chair, legs akimbo, tugging at himself like it’s a compulsion. Now, all I can see is the wall and the sheets, and Bro’s arm where it’s hooked around my shoulder. He found out I start screaming when I’m fucked on my knees with my chest to the mattress, and for the past several minutes that’s all he’s been doing. I can’t control my body anymore. I can’t do anything anymore except drool and claw against the mattress, and babble about how thick he is, and how much I love his cock, and how I’m going to die. He’s got two rough fingers rubbing hard at my clit– it’s got me convulsing. “I can’t cum, I can’t, please, I need it, I need more, Daddy, fuck me, I love you, please, yes, I’m gonna–”
I go limp and squirt over his fingers, and all the bastard does is laugh.
Chapter 3: Leading a Horse
Chapter Text
TG: do you still love me
I’m alone in my bed. Vriska’s taking a shower. I almost delete the message before she can read it, but not quite.
TG: how was last night for you
TG: are you freaking out right now like i am
TG: i mean no probably not youre mostly just wet and soapy at the moment i suspect
TG: or covered in other substances i dont know
TG: something something a joke about how guys dont understand all those esoteric products women use in the shower
TG: god im scared
AG: Jesus christ! You’re such a fucking dork.
AG: Look. I’m not going to get all… mushy and heterosexual with you, alright? So don’t get your hopes up on that one.
AG: 8ut… yeah. Wow, that was… incredi8le.
AG: I feel like I 8lacked out.
TG: you did black out
TG: or fell asleep i guess
TG: thats a less freaky and more accurate way of putting it
AG: Also yes I still love you.
AG: Fuck you for making me say it, 8ut yeah.
AG: Nothing’s changed in that respect.
AG: Idiot.
TG: baller
TG: so about that thing we talked about
AG: Yes. I want it.
AG: And I want you to 8e the one to 8ring it up.
Right-o. I find Bro in the kitchen, making a pretty good approximation of pancakes. He spots me right away, even though I’m lingering near the door. Of course, he doesn’t turn around.
“You hungry?”
“You single?”
A beat. His posture gets a different look to it. He’s refusing to voice the unspoken 'what the fuck' hanging in the air. So, I keep going.
“Because Vriska told me to tell you she’d like some more of that in the future.” His feet shift– he’s going to cut in, so I get louder. “And she wants the full package this time. Dinner and a puppet show. Netflix and chill. Whatever.”
“Alright. I can do that.” He’s answering too quickly. He doesn’t believe me, or he thinks I don’t know what I’m talking about.
“No, like– like, for real, dude. She wants this to be a thing.”
He’s silent.
“And so do I.”
There’s a soft pap as a pancake hits the pancake stack. He’s staying completely quiet. I put my hands in my pockets and head out, only pausing to glance over my shoulder. “Y’know, I hadn’t heard you laugh in months before last night.”
“Mm.”
I hover at the doorway again. Right before I leave, I watch him pick up a handful of chocolate chips. He pops one into his mouth, then turns his head a fraction of a degree towards me.
“Tell her I’m single. Get it while it's hot.”