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Don't Point That Finger at Me Unless You Intend To Use It

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When you go upstairs to get your stuff unpacked, Dirk doesn’t do anything beyond dumping his suitcase, out of sylladex in to the middle of the room. Roxy managed to wrestle him out of his jacket and now, in his usual polo shirt and sweat pants, he sits shivering on your bed.
And not in the good Shiver With Sexual Arousal kind of shivering.

“I’m so cold.” He says, just as you’re putting your undies away in their old drawer. You throw a balled up pair of boxers at him.

“Oh shut up, it’s like 40 outside, that’s not even that bad.” You say. Though let’s be honest, you’re stretching the living fuck out of the truth there. There’s at least a foot of snow on the ground and after more than four months of Texas weather, you’re freezing your proverbial tits off.

“No fuck you, it is way colder than 40.” Says Dirk and his hand flies to his pocket.

“Don’t pull out your phone, you fucking lame-o.” But he ignores you and does, thrusting the screen which is currently displaying his obnoxiously cute Weather Pony app. The screen reads 31 degrees Fahrenheit.

“Fuck you.” He says. “See! It’s 30. That is fucking freezing. That is literally fucking freezing.” He’s practically snarling, you bat his hand away from your face and start putting your socks away.

“Don’t be such a baby!” You laugh. Dirk, meanwhile, toys with the boxers you threw at him. Those are actually a pair he really likes on you, so maybe it was a bad idea to throw your undies at him. Maybe you should have thrown socks. Thankfully, instead of doing something weird with them, he pings them at you, and complains about how cold he’s going to be at bedtime.
“Do you want me to go get the space heater so it’s toasty when we go to bed?”

“No, it’ll be too hot with the space heater.”

You groan. “Why don’t you just sleep with clothes on for once? You can borrow some PJs and a hoody from me.”

“I hate sleeping in clothes. Boxers. Boxers are fine, but… PJs? I’m not fucking 12. Or you.” He flops back on your bed, and bounces, weakly, in protest.

“Sleep in a hoody, at least. ‘Cause it’s way too cold to sleep naked man, I’m sorry.”

“Even if we cuddle?”

You smile. “Yes, even if we cuddle.” You shut up your drawer, and hop onto the edge of the bed. Your back is aching, and when you stretch Dirk’s arms loop around your waist, and pull you down next to him.

“Your hoodies are going to be too fucking small for me, though, ‘cause you’re fucking tiny.” He says. Then he kisses your hair, and you try to reach round and bat at his face.

“I’m 6 feet tall, Dirk, that is not tiny!”

“That’s tiny to me.”

“Fuck you, you’re like two inches taller than me.”

“Two and a half.” He corrects you. And when you try and wriggle away from him, he pulls you closer to his chest, abusing his superior physical strength. “And regardless of how tall you are, you’re a narrow fucker. I’m broad, and muscular, like a tiger.”

“I’m not even that skinny.” You mumble. He snorts. “Fuck you! I’ve filled out a lot!” You can feel his wheezy rattle of his chest on your back as he laughs. “Do I have to get my arms out, because I will get my arms out.”

Dirk puts a hand on your forearm, then lets go of you. “Okay, no, you don’t have to get your stupid arms out. Go get me a hoody, we’ll see if I can wriggle into it without tearing it to shreds.” He snickers. Then he kicks you off your own bed. You huff, and roll over to the closet before standing, and sliding it open.

“You should be okay, you know. When I was really, really skinny I went through this phase of wearing like two big hoodies at a time to bulk me out a little.” You say, before revising it. “Well, partially. Mostly it was just because I was really cold, all the time.”

Dirk rolls onto his side, and frowns slightly. “I never remember you being that thin.”

“Seriously?” You start flicking through the hoodies in your closet, “Dude, after we finished the Game, I lost like… Twenty pounds or something. Which doesn’t really sound like a lot, but I was only like 130 anyway, and granted I wasn’t as tall but… Yeesh.” Honestly, you’re shocked he doesn’t remember. You looked really, really sick. “I guess you didn’t see me again till Dave’s 18th birthday. So, I’d started gaining weight again by then. But ages sixteen through seventeen, I was like… Gross skinny.” You say, wrinkling your nose at the memory.
All four of you went a bit strange after the game finished. Jade isolated herself on her island for months, despite Dirk, your Dad and Rose’s mom offering for her to come stay at their respective homes. But at least she talked on pesterchum. You didn’t hear anything from Dave for months either, only gathering fourth hand information on him (Dirk would tell Mom how he was, Mom would tell Rose, Rose would tell you). And you remember that Rose seemed perfectly fine, till she and her Mom moved in with you and Dad. Then you found out that she’d been crying a lot – mostly at night.

You… You just kind of stopped eating. You didn’t feel like it. You felt kind of nauseous all the time and the idea just didn’t appeal to you.

Of course you started again, obviously, but you were all having a really rough patch back there for a while.

Dirk lets out a surprised puff of air. “It’s really difficult to imagine you without an ass.” He says. You smile.

“Dark times man, I was almost as bony as Dave.”

“No one is as bony as Dave.” Dirk says, shaking his head. You root through your hoodies, checking the size labels.

“He’s still got plenty of time to fill out. Maybe he’ll even be as big and strong as his daddy, one day.”

“Yeah I kind of doubt that.” Dirk grumbles. “I was never like… Most teenage boys go through that weird skinny stage, but I never did. Always had the body of a God. Always.” You can see him running his hands up and down his torso. You take a hoody marked XL off its hanger, and throw it to him.

“Try this, it’s like the biggest one I have.” You say. He sits up, and pulls it over his head. And it fits, and you’re not surprised, but apparently Dirk is.

“Yeah, that’s a pretty decent fit, I guess.” He says. Then he pulls the neckline up over his nose and inhales, and you have no idea if you’re horrified or flattered. “Can I keep this?” He asks.

“Wow, gay.”

“It’s soft and it smells like you.”

“Could literally not be gayer if you were trying.”

“I dunno man, I could write your butt a sonnet, that would be pretty gay.”

“Yeah. Yeah that would be way gayer.”

“I’m going to keep this on while we have dinner.”

You cringe a little. Dinner. Dad. Dad plus Dirk. “Can you… Be good during dinner.”

“I’m always good.” He says. You join him on your bed again. When you lie down, so does he.

“Because right now, Rose is the only one who knows.” You say. “I understand Mom is your best friend, but I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell her. ‘Cause she’ll tell Dad, and I dunno if I’m ready for him to know yet?” You clear your throat, and Dirk picks up your hand and starts twiddling with your fingers. “I guess that sounds a little dumb, but it’s not because I think he’ll hate the idea or anything, he just might… Freak out a little.” You say. And honestly, your Dad doesn’t freak out gracefully. So rare are his freak outs, that when they come, they’re usually big.

“It’s okay man, I have to say I’m kind of fearing the wrath of Daddy Egbert, and I wasn’t actually aware that fear was an emotion I had.” He says. Then he drops your hand onto your chest, and rolls so he’s looking at you.

“Yeah, I’m not exactly sure how he’s gonna take it. He was never really all that down with me dating older women, and he likes you, but he thinks you’re a perv, so…” You’re not all that sure Dirk is listening, because when you trail off, he kisses you lightly. You carry on talking. “I mean. I am an adult now, I guess, but did I ever tell you why I broke up with Marcy?”

“This was the first girlfriend.” You nod. “Who was thirty.”

“Yep. He called her a floozy and said he would call the cops.”


“This is my Dad though, so in his eyes, he was calling her like a jizz soaked paedophile with a bucket pussy.” You sigh. It was a dark day in Egbert history. “But yeah. He tried to call the cops, I had to threaten him with a hammer.”

“Well she was thirteen years older than you.”

“You’re twenty years older than me.”

“Yeah but you’re a big boy now, then you were just a babby.” He pats your head.

You roll your eyes. It was barely five years ago, but you decide not to remind him of that. “I guess. But. Point stands. He’ll probably freak out.”

“John, Bro, it’s time for dinner!” Calls Dad.

You sit bolt upright, and when Dirk doesn’t follow you, you pull him up by the neck of your hoodie. “Best behaviour.” You say, pointing an ominous finger in front of his nose. You see him go cross eyed behind his shades.

“Won’t it look incredibly suspicious if I behave?”

“Oh. Oh my God, you’re right.” You drag a hand over your face. “Okay. Um. Fuck. Let’s just… Wing it. We’re gonna have to just. Oh God.”


While you Rose and Dirk wait for Dad and Mom to come out with dinner, and Rose and Dirk talk about some dumb book or something, your mind wanders a little.
It still kind of hurts when you sit, but… You really can’t stop thinking about having full-sex with Dirk.

You feel like that’s kind of… Weird of you but… Gosh you really want to try it again. Soon. Maybe with you on top.
Yeah, that would be sweet.

Maybe Dirk should go on top the next time you fuck him. You figure you’d really like that.

You’re completely thrown off your train off thought when Dad bustles into the dining room carrying more plates than should be physically possible. So much so that Roxy has to help him move the serving dishes onto the table, while Dad dishes out the plates.

“I made Chinese food.” He says, as he takes his seat. “Because I know how much John likes his home cooked meals and how much Bro likes his… Awful takeout.” Dad looks at Bro with a twinkle of disdain in his eye. Or maybe you just imagined it. You are feeling a little paranoid.

Boy, is it hot in here, or is it just you?
… It’s just you.

Even your Dad is wearing a sweater, and molecules of cold air are usually boiled in the heat of his manly aura before they can permeate his skin.

You decide you really need to STOP THINKING and ladle a spoonful of sweet and sour chicken onto your plate. Sweet and sour chicken is your favourite.

Unfortunately, what you put in your mouth is possibly the least sour thing you’ve ever eaten. You struggle to swallow, and look to your father with suppressed rage.

You force a laugh. “Wow Dad, you went pretty heavy on the sweet in this sweet and sour sauce!” You say lightly. Truly, you have never been more enraged. How dare he spoil your favourite Chinese dish with his filthy sugar.
God! Your dad is like so totally annoying!

“Well, the recipe called for just 4 spoonfuls of brown sugar, but it was just much too sour. So I added a few more.” Says your Dad. Your fist clenches around your fork, and you’re aware of the faintly horrified look Dirk is giving you. You shoot him a sharp smile.

“How many?” You ask.

“There are only about ten spoonfuls in there, really!” Says Dad. He shovels a fork full of the SWEET and sour chicken into his mouth. Then adds, “Well, maybe twelve.”

You take a deep breath. It’s just chicken. It’s just chicken. It’s just chicken.

Rose elbows you, and whispers in your ear. “I made the black bean sauce for the other chicken, that should be fine.”

“Thanks Rose.” You mumble. You shovel a passive aggressive amount of the black bean chicken onto your plate. “So when’s your next book coming out?” You ask her. Rose smiles, privately, at you.

“It should be hitting the shelves for summer.”

“Sweet!” You say. And the chicken Rose made is spicy and salty and perfect and totally unsweet. Good Rose, best chef. “So do we find out who killed Calmasis?”

Rose quirks her eyebrows. “Perhaps. That is, if Calmasis is dead at all.”

“Oh, fucking plot twist!” Dirk cuts in. He’s still wearing your hoodie. And eating a lot of chicken. Jesus he better not stain it. “This chicken is good, Egbert, I dunno what the fuck John’s complaining about.”

“We don’t use foul language in this house, Bro.” Says your Dad, tartly.

“I know man, but we’re all adults here. Even John swears like a sailor. Especially when I’m sucking his dick, I mean fuck, he barely ever shuts up then.” Dirk sniggers. You give him a pointed look. Rose gives you a very pointed look.
You swallow. Then snort.

“You are so immature.” You sigh. He doesn’t smile at you, like he usually would.

“Aww am I in the doghouse now?” He asks.

“Yes. Absolutely no penis for you tonight.” Your Dad looks bewildered and Mom looks, frankly, very suspicious. You laugh, nervous.
“See, look what I’ve become. This is why I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Dirk clicks his tongue. “Everything is my fault.”

“Everything is your fault! The last time I brought a girl home, you know what he did?” You look to the table, grinning, and when Dirk asks:

“Do you know what I did?” Your face drops a little.

“Uh.” Come on Egbert, think fast. “… He kicked down the door, and tried to strife with the girl!”

Mom laughs her dirty, hoarse cackle, throwing her head back. “Seriously? Oh my God, you’re such a douche.”

“I had to check if she was worthy!”

“And was she?” Asks Dad. Rose drops her fork, and gives Dirk a slightly terrifying look, her eyes are blazing, and her nostrils are flared.


You cut in before Dirk can finish the story, and probably wreck its believability. “She hit him in the nuts with her baton and stormed out.” Dirk shrugs, and reached for a leg of chicken on the side of the black bean plate. Rose grabs his wrist.

She clears her throat and through clenched teeth she says, “Goodness, Bro, are you going to have that leg of chicken?”

“Yeah, I was gunna.” Bro mumbles.

“Really? Because that’s my leg.” You blink, bewildered. And as you do, there’s a bang from Dad’s end of the table. He’s bright red as he lurches away from the table.

“Oh, God, sweet heart I’m so sorry, with your mother sitting so close-”

Mom yells over the top of him “Honey.” And Dad shuts up. “Shoosh, you did have my leg.” Mom leans over to Dirk with her lip curled. “Whose fuckin’ leg were you trying to rub?”

Dirk throws his gloved hands up defensively. “I was trying to kick John, I didn’t realise I’d accidentally incested!”

Mom shakes her head. “Why does that always happen with this damn family?”

Dad puts his head in his hands. “Who would like a drink?”

“Momma would like a drink.”

“Well Momma can’t have one.” Dad says, standing. “Anyone else?”

“Woah, why can’t Roxy drink?” asks Dirk.

“Yeah, why not?” You ask. Mom make a face.

“Because of… Reasons!... Uh. I’m like. I’ve got like… A kidney infection?”

“Yes. And she can’t drink because of it.” Says Dad.

“Huh.” You guess that’s settled. “Well, I’ll have a beer, if you’re offering.”

“You don’t drink beer.” Snorts Rose.

“He does now.” Dirk says, proudly.

“Fuck, you’ve had quite the influence on little John, huh?”

“Yes, quite the influence.”

You laugh, nervously. “Bro, I don’t care how funny you think it is, we’re not pretending we’re screwing to get a rise out of Mom and Dad.”

“But it’s hilarious!”


“Bad prankster.”

“You’re a bad prankster.”

The rest of the meal goes rather without a hitch, though Dad can’t seem to look Rose in the eye, and every time Mom decline a drink, you, Dirk and Rose exchange highly suspicious glances.

As you retire to the living room for movies and popcorn, Rose mumbles, “Well played, John.” Into your ear.


You wake up a while before Dirk does, finding him with his head pillowed onto your shoulder, clinging to your waist for dear life. He’s frowning slightly in his sleep. You idly brush your fingers through his hair. He looks younger when he’s sleeping.
Your Dad yells, and when you jump, he wakes with a start.

“Boys! We’re going to get Jade from the airport.” Call Dad. You groan.

“Why didn’t you freaking tell me like a freaking hour ago so I could freaking come!” You whine. You always come get Jade from the airport, always!

“I yelled three times!” You Dad replies, sounding exasperated. “I believe she’s bringing Bec, so there won’t be enough room in the car any way.”

“Fine, whatever.” You mumble. You’re aware of the fact there’s no way he could have heard you.

“We’ll be a few hours, probably. There’s left over chicken in the fridge.” He says. And then there’s the sound of coats and shoes being put on, and the door slamming shut in the wind.
Dirk rolls over and grabs your respective eyewear, dropping your glasses on your face while he puts on his shades.

“I am. So. Fucking. Cold.” He announces.

“You’re a fucking pussy.”

“I object to the use of the word pussy in that context, and fuck off, you’re a fucking cunt and I’m fucking freezing.” He scowls and shuffles back under the quilt. You ruffle his hair.

“Why don’t we go feed you some breakfast and see if it warms you up.”

It takes some dragging to get Dirk out of bed and he does insist on taking the quilt with him downstairs.
The kitchen hasn’t changed much while you’ve been away, though there is a brand new toaster with like eight slots.
While you deliberate over whether you want two slices of toast or three, Dirk cooks bacon and almost sets your quilt on fire three times in the process.
You don’t let him make the eggs.

When you’re done eating, and Dirk has managed to shed your quilt, you ask him if he feels warmer. He replies with a noncommittal hand gesture.

“I just feel kind of gross.” He says. “We should take a shower or something.”

You pout. “Aww, man! But I just showered last night and-” Dirk smirks, and raises his eyebrows. “Oh. Oh I get it! Cool, let’s go take us a fuckin’ shower!”

It’s cool because you’ve never showered with Dirk before! Because he only has one of those dumb little cubicle things, you can’t really fit two large, manly men such as yourselves inside. But the shower at your house is this big cool thingy that hangs over the middle of the bath tub, so you can both fit in there easily.

Today you learn that Dirk showers in his shades, and he learns that you shower with your glasses on. You find it makes things easier for you, he finds it bewildering. The man who showers with shades.

You’re not really sure how showering together is supposed to work. Because you do end up making out and stuff but you also end up just sort of watching Dirk wash his hair. You wash yours too while you’re in there, so there’s this brief period where you’re both like naked and visibly around but just ignoring each other because you’ve got important hair washing business to attend to.
You guess making out with sudsy hair could probably lead to someone getting shampoo in their eye.

Dirk climbs out of the shower before you have a chance to resume wet and soapy out-making and towels himself off a little before laying the towel on the floor.

“I thought we were going to do it in the shower.” You pout. He snorts.

“Not with your fucking balance, buddy.” You climb out of the shower and towel yourself off, while Dirk looks on hungrily. You’re not even sure why he’s looking at you like that. If you were Dirk and you were naked in a room with you, you’d look at yourself because really your body is nothing special but Dirk is just like…
Gosh, you’ve never been particularly attracted to a male figure before, especially not one as male as Dirk’s but Jesus Christ he’s just. You groan quietly to yourself and kind of launch yourself at him. He gives a muffled ‘oof’ when he hits his ass on the sink.

Dirk breaks your heated kiss to say, “Let’s check this off as the first room in our quest.”

“Check. Massive check.”

“So” He breathes heavily into your ear, “What do you want to do?”

“Can…” You clear your throat. You’re not great at vocalising… you know… Dirty stuff. “I know I’ve barely regained my ability to walk, but can you… Fuck me? Again?” You ask. Dirk just looks like he’s struck gold.

“Hell yes. Hell fucking yes I can.” He claps enthusiastically and instructs you to drop the lube and the condoms out of your sylladex. You’ve both kind of agreed that the two of you need to get tested, and once you do, no more condoms.
Even though you’ve been having unprotected oral sex.

To be honest, now you kind of just think the condom makes it more hygienic? But, whatever, you feel like it’s kind of pathetic that you’re a man in his twenties who is concerned by having hygienic sex.
Stop thinking about hygiene, John.

“But. Uh. Can I go on top?” You ask. Dirk just grins, and lies down on the towel, looking really fucking pleased with himself. You blush a little. “I just. Kind of. I was thinking about it.” You tell him. He whips off his shades.
You realise he’s lying with his head dangerously close to the door, and if anyone came in, he’d get a really nasty bang.
But it’s not like anyone’s going to come in and give him and nasty bang while you’re in an empty house behind a locked door having a totally nasty bang.

Dirk tosses the lube to your feet and tells you to work yourself open, so he can watch. And you do it, even though it’s really kind of embarrassing. You just focus on the way he watches you, playing with his dick and gnawing his lip just a little.

“How does that feel?” He asks, his voice thick. Yours crack a little as you reply. You’ve already got two fingers up there but you add a third and moan quietly.

“Good. Really good. I mean, it hurts but I think I kind of like that,” You say, thickly. “Is that weird?”

“No it’s just really hot.” Dirk mumbles. You smile, and give up, figuring you’re as prepared as you’re going to be. You climb onto his hips, and he settles his large hands upon your waist. “Gonna cry this time?” He asks.

“Haha, fuck you. I’m going to un-cry so many tears man. So many tears.” You growl. You hope you sound sexy, not just pissed off? You lean down and bite his lips before grabbing his cock (which he’d speedily rolled the condom on to) and sort of… manoeuvring yourself?

“You know what you’re doing up there buddy?” Dirk asks. You shrug.

“I’ve seen girls do it enough, how hard can it-“ You cut yourself off. As you manage to get yourself settled onto Dirk’s cock, you find you’ve kind of lowered yourself way too fucking quick. You squeak, and wince, and it takes a while before you can bring yourself to move again.
But when you do… Damn is this a great fucking angle. You like that you can watch Dirk watching you, and he looks like he’s making a stellar attempt to bite his bottom lip off.

You like that you can ride him slow. Because Dirk likes it fast, but you like to tease a little more, nd you milk each and every thrust for all its worth.
You like that you can kind of but on a little show for him too – you know touching your chest and your nipples, guiding his hand to your cock, throwing your head back and moaning when you work yourself just onto the right spot. That’s not so much putting on a show as it is just enjoying yourself.
Every time you do you choke out an “God.” and Dirk mumbles,

“That’s my name don’t wear it out.”

You figure you’re not going to last very long. In fact you swear you’re a couple more thrusts away from coming when you hear a clatter downstairs.

You stop, and the two of you exchange a glance.

“John, Bro we’re back!” Calls your fucking Dad jesus fucking christ what. “We just got lucky with the traffic!”

“Uh oh.” Says Dirk.

“John?” And that’s Jade. So bright and innocent.

“Where the hell are you two?” Yells Mom.

You wince. “I’m in the bathroom, uh- Ah!” Dirk jerks his hips slightly, and you glare. “Bro w-en. Went to the store.” You say. Dirk just… thrusts up a little again, and you groan. “You’re doing that on purpose you fuck!” You hiss.

“I swear I can’t fucking help it I was like two fucking seconds from finishing!” He replies. Meanwhile you can hear the thudding of like four pairs of feet on the stairs.

“Are you okay in there?” Asks Dad.

“Yeah, I’m f-fuck!” You say. You kind of lower yourself down by accident, and you clench with panic. Dirk’s eyes roll back in his head and he bites his fist. “I’m fine!” You squeak.

“You didn’t fall, did you son?”


“Come now, there’s no shame in falling!” You Dad says, sounding very concerned. You let out a tiny sob.

“Okay, I fell! I fucking fell, no big deal!”

“Do you need help?” Asks Dad. He sounds like he’s panicking. Now you’re panicking. Dirk just looks like he wants to fucking die.

“No! No, no, no, don’t you come in here Dad. Don’t you dare!” You snarl. Your Dad, of course, pays you no heed.

“Ladies, avert your eyes, John has fallen and he requires my assistance.” He announces. “I’m going to break down the door!”

You hear the manly thud of his shoulder on the door. “No. Don’t do that Dad, Dad come on!” You whine. Dirk covers his eyes in preparation, and tries to angle his head as far away from the door as possible.

If there was a God, any God at all, then he would strike you down, right now, as an act of mercy. You just kind of sit (on Dirk’s cock) completely dumbfounded (on Dirk’s cock) wishing that something, anything could prevent what was about to happen (on Dirk’s cock.)

With a final thud, and a crack of the lock snapping off its screws, the door flies open and smacks Dirk just on the back of the head.

Proudly, your father declares “I’m here!” before his smile falls, and reforms into an expression of sheer horror. You watch Mom’s jaw drop, Rose’s head fall into her hands, and Jade covering Bec’s eyeless face. You grab Dirk’s shades, and hold them over a chest in some futile attempt to cover your nipples.

“Christ.” Says Dad.

Dirk clears his throat. “… Hello Jade.” He says.

“… Well.” Dad blinks, violently, and stares up at the ceiling. “I’m going to shut the door now.”
And he does.

Dirk’s head hits the floor with a thud. He may be unconscious. That lucky bastard.