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     Dirk had had the same headache for going on a week now. It came and went in intensity, but it was always there, lingering like a bad smell in the back of his nose, piercing through his consciousness every time he so much as let his thoughts drift. The headaches happened often these days. Stress headaches, Rose called them, but headaches they still were. Migraines more like. They made him want to vomit at the worst of times, and at the best of times he could focus enough to plow through the work that had piled up on his workshop table while feeling his head throb and ache along with his heartbeat like an unwanted accompaniment.

     Yet, bad as they were, they were his own fault. Stress from thinking too much. Overthinking was finally hurting him, someone somewhere just won a lottery ticket from the lightning strike of a chance that had finally struck and managed to damage him. Of course it was by his own hand, too. Who better to hurt him than himself? What other thing could manage to do that much damage aside from something that came from his own mind? After all, Dirk had it down to a bit of an artform by now.

     All of his splinters had caused harm and done harm to himself and others, and usually even in his name. Brobot had chased Jake down and beaten him to a pulp in a bid to train him. Hal had tormented Dirk himself as well as toyed with his friends instead of being some subordinate Yes Man, which was a good show of his programming and origins but annoying nonetheless. Dirk was aware that he’d put people at risk as well and done shitty things, though it had been with the mindset of the ends that made the means acceptable.

     Then there was the elephant in the room. The tall, muscular, popped collar elephant in the room that he was beginning to resemble more every day, driven singularly to prepare Dave for what was to come while being pushed even further to the brink of losing his damned mind and sense of control by the hands of a maniacal cherub imbued puppet. Sometimes he’d look in the mirror and realize that this was what Dave saw every day growing up, this was what had tormented him, and feel sick to his stomach.

     It wasn’t him that had done everything, yet it also wasn’t not him. The implications that everything linked to him had caused some kind of trauma was, occasionally, monumentally upsetting. But what could be done about it? The past was the past and everyone had moved on, except for him. Stuck in his mire of memories and thoughts, Dirk could, and often did, beat himself into oblivion over it and he had the migraines to prove that it was happening even when he wasn’t actively participating.

     This would have been fine and dandy same as always except for one thing: Dave.

     Dave was, by far, the most perceptive to his moods and manias out of all of their group of survivors. While Rose could pick him apart if he let her, she didn’t often intrude unrequested save for commentary now and then. Dave meanwhile was physically incapable of shutting up, bless his fucking vociferous soul, and quite blunt with his demeanor. When a thought crossed his mind it would come out of his mouth one way or another, and usually by way of hitting the nail not just on the head but through the table.

     Dirk loved him more than anything, but sometimes he felt exposed around Dave. Naked in an unpleasant way. He could see through the facetious expressions, the lies, the dramatization and exaggerations, the false masks he wore and changed as fluidly as if he were in a one man Chinese opera. If he was feeling particularly depressed, he could tell in an instant and would ask what was wrong, then patiently wait for Dirk to backpedal across the continent before asking what was wrong in another way that might jive with his current mood.

     He wasn’t able to lie to Dave effectively, and it caused understandable distress. He couldn’t lie, he couldn’t hide, he couldn’t fake it. He’d feel like shit like usual and Dave would see right through him like clockwork, and he’d get this concerned look on his face that made Dirk want to crawl into a hole and die for being the source of it.

     Well. You know. More than he usually wanted to crawl into a hole and die, which was saying something for the veracity of it.

     Today was, you guessed it, another round of headaches and Dirk was wanting to spontaneously combust, because he was finally getting to hang out with Dave again, and he hadn’t asked what was wrong yet, but it was only a matter of time. Dirk had pushed himself to respond to things with as normal an attitude as he could display, kept the conversation from getting too dark, and had even managed a few jokes and witty replies to Dave’s commentary about the film they were watching.

     But the pressure was beginning to eat at him, both literally and figuratively. The ache was incessant and the need to be pessimistic was intense, but he didn’t want to ruin their little date. He couldn’t handle Dave being upset, after all. And what was the point of running at the mouth about every little thing anyway? Dave wasn’t his therapist, there was no use unloading this burden onto him. Or onto anyone, for that matter. Rose liked to play psychoanalyst but he’d never unloaded on her either.

     No man was an island, but Dirk sure looked like one from his point of view, and wanted to keep his sandy shores private.

     It was, as could be said, perfect timing on Dave’s part to start ignoring the movie and watching Dirk’s face instead. He didn’t speak. Didn’t question. Just watched with a quiet unnatural for Dave to exude, till Dirk could feel the tethers finally breaking.

     “What. Got something on my face?”

     “You alright?”

     He finally asked it, outright, and it had the sting of it being a third time question instead of a first. Dirk wet his lips and tried to stem the tide back.

     “Yeah, I’m fine.”

     Dave’s silence weighed heavy on Dirk’s shoulders, doubly so when he registered that it was a look of patent disbelief. Dave’s mouth was crooked at one edge, weighing him down by the second.

     “...You sure?”

     It was such a simple question, yet it took everything in Dirk to find an answer. A moment passed, then two, before he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

     “When am I ever fine?”

     Like a knife between his ribs, Dirk could feel himself deflate. Why had he said that. How had it slipped out? It wasn’t like he was bantering with Hal about this, this was Dave, what wire had crossed to allow his mouth to do that? Were his defenses that low, that he was able to make such an absolute fuckup happen on this scale? Dave’s mouth twisted uncomfortably, and Dirk was already counting the ways to crawl into that hole he was so fond of to escape it.

     There was no other way out, he’d need to be beheaded, maybe Hal could make preparations for a guillotine.

     Instead of talking anymore though, Dave turned the movie off and rose to his knees, hugging Dirk around the middle tightly as he could. He held this pose for a moment or two before reaching up to ruffle his carefully coiffed hair out of place. Dirk could feel the gel giving way, hair falling around his ears messily. Only Dave could get away with doing that to him, and even then only just barely.

     “You worry me sometimes, y’know?” Dave murmured suddenly against Dirk’s chest. More reasons to count down to his own death, oh God, why did this have to be happening, why did he have to fuck up. It wasn’t fair, why did this ha- “Why don’t you tell me when things are wrong instead of playin’ hard to get about it?”

     Dirk recoiled inwardly so hard it was as if he’d sucked a lemon. Tell him when things were wrong? Tell anyone when things were wrong. Hah. Hahahaha.

     “Why would I do that?  Turn the movie back on, I don’t wanna wreck the mood more than I already did,” Dirk said. “I’m fine. I promise.”

     Dave frowned at him and tightened his grip on Dirk’s waist before suddenly shifting his position and hefting him forward onto his shoulder. The momentum was there for a moment before he was rising higher, lifting him… and then arching backwards to fully suplex Dirk to the ground with a solid WHUD.

     Dirk was stunned for a moment, startled by the movement and then by the action itself. Did he just. ...Did Dave just suplex him? His Dave? Or was he dissociating in some strange turn of events, hallucinating that he was now upside down, that his upper back hurt from the instinctive curl he’d fallen into? No, no, that had definitely happened. He’d admitted to being depressed, tried to take it back, and Dave had suplexed him.

     Dave, who now stood upright, was dusting himself off a bit.

     “Shit, haven’t done that in a while. Kinda makes my back ache. I’m gettin’ old,” he sighed. 

     Dirk, crumpled in his heap on the floor, could only stare.

     “Did you jus-?”

     “Suplex you? Yeah. ‘Cause you’re bein’ a bitch about somethin’ important,” Dave said with a frown.

     “You SUPLEXED me?” Dirk asked again, barely able to think. “I said I was sad and you fucking suplexed me?”

     “Yeah,” Dave said, coming to crouch down by Dirk’s side. “Need me to do it again, or are you gonna talk like a normal person about your goddamn feelings now?”

     Slowly, Dirk sat upright from his crumpled pile and looked Dave over for a moment before leaping at him, knocking him over and trying to pin him by the shoulders. Retaliation wouldn’t solve anything but damn it would feel good right now. Who suplexes someone because they won’t talk about their problems?

     ...Then again, in a way, it was perfect. He wouldn’t talk, not easily, not readily. If he’d talk, Rose would have been more than willing to tear about the minutiae of his inner demons for hours at a time. Even more perfectly, it had worked. He no longer was focused on feeling sad. If anything, he felt annoyance and a petty sort of rage now that he wanted to put out into the world. Dave didn’t seem phased.

     When Dave shoved him to the side and tried to lock him in his legs, Dirk was quicker than anticipated, sliding backwards and off of him into a crouch with his hands up, warding off any further attack. It worked for about three seconds, before Dave flashed upright and forwards to tackle him down again, wrestling for control with him as they rolled this way and that. Feet hit the console table, hands flailed and hit the table, elbows and knees made acquaintance with the floor as they grappled.

     “What the fuck is your problem ?” Dirk growled, giving his all despite being fairly evenly matched with Dave save for his one weakness: he was unable to think of actually hurting Dave, while Dave himself liked to play dirty. One too many times, he was put in risk of becoming injured in their flailing, and each time Dirk yielded a bit of ground to him instead of attacking, not wanting him to knock his head into a corner or get punched or kicked. It was as if he were holding himself hostage in a war zone, and it was logic that Dirk couldn’t follow at the best of times, let alone when he was upset.

     Their shenanigans ended when Dave sat heavily on Dirk’s hips and pressed his hands onto his throat, pinning him down at arms length, forcing him to go still and quiet. No pressure was being applied, but it as such a dominating position that Dirk couldn’t bring himself to move out of it. Okay. Dave was in control right now. Point made.

     “My problem is you ,” he said suddenly. “You when you do this! And you always do this shit! ‘Oh, I’m fine’ when you’re obviously hurtin’. It’s not even just a brush off, it’s like bein’ slapped in the face because I know damn well you’re not gonna tell anyone else about your problems. If you can’t even tell me of all people then what’s the point of sayin’ you love and trust me? If I’ve gotta wrestle this shit out of you every damn time you lie like that till you learn to talk to me, then I’ll do it man, don’t test me.”

     Dirk didn’t doubt him in the slightest. He swallowed, felt Dave’s thumbs rise and fall along his throat with the motion, and stared as he tried to find words.

     “You wouldn’t understand.”

     “So? Make me understand,” Dave said. “Or better yet, try to let me understand in the first place by talkin’ to me. I’ll never understand jack shit if you never let me try! I love you, don’t you get it? Let me try to understand everything, let me love you .

     Tears welled at the corner of Dirk’s eyes, but when he reached up to try rubbing them away quickly, Dave grabbed his wrist and slammed it down. He pulled his shades off and rested them up onto his hair before doing the same with his own, looking down intensely eye to watering eye.

     “You wouldn’t understand ,” Dirk croaked, voice thicker. “Even if I explained a thousand times you wouldn’t understand!”

     “Try me. I’ve got all day to sit here and pin you down.”

     Something in Dirk crackled and finally gave way, looking at the intensity in Dave’s eyes. He wanted to hear it? Fine. He’d hear it. No more protecting him.

     “Fine. Since you’re dying to know, I fucking hate myself. I hate everything I do. None of it’s good enough, I know I can do better, I’m just a lazy fuck who keeps being one step behind where I’m planning to be, even if it all works out. It shouldn’t just work according to plan, it should work better than I planned,” Dirk said without missing a beat.

     Dave, atop him, frowned a bit but stayed silent as he continued to rant, building up steam as the self hatred grew in intensity.

     “Everything I’ve ever done has been manipulative if you look at it in the right light, and I don’t feel bad for it at the time. I don’t care about people. I mean fuck, I love you and yet another part of me is the exact same as him and look what he did, who’s to say I won’t do the same thi-”

     “Shhhhh,” Dave said as he put a hand over Dirk’s mouth, cutting him off. “Easy now, easy. You’re doin’ the spiral thing again. How much of that do you mean, and how much are you just worried about?”

     Dirk glared at him before closing his eyes and breathing deeply, sighing out his exhale. He waited, patient, till Dave uncovered his mouth.

     “...I’m worried about a lot of it, but I have done harm and there’s no denying that.”

     “Everyone fucks up sometimes,” Dave said. “Your intentions were good, weren’t they?”

     “In the end? Yes. But the ends don’t always justify the means. I’m amazed my friends give a shit about me with the things I’ve done to them or that Hal’s done to them.” He paused for a moment, glancing away. “I’m amazed you give a shit about me. Considering everything.”

     “You’re not him, Dirk. Not either of them. You’re you. ...And I’ll always give a shit about you,” Dave promised. He scooted down Dirk’s body a bit before kissing his face, his jaw, his throat. “You’ve been nothin’ but good to me. You’re a good friend to everyone else, that’s why they hang around even if shit happens sometimes,” he said, kissing down to his chest, over his heart. “You’re not evil. You’re not in the same circumstances as my Bro, either. You’re also not some monster like you seem to think you are sometimes. ...You’re Dirk, and very much human. And I love you for it more than you could know.”

     “I am him though! I’m both of them! All of them are from me, they’re my splinters, I’m responsible in some way because everything they’ve done I’m capable of too, don’t you understand?” Dirk said, voice taking on a manic tone. “I’m a bad person and every time I fuck up it exemplifies it even further!” 

     “Do you really believe that, or are you just sayin’ that because you feel bad?”

     “I don’t fucking know, okay?! I don’t know! And that’s another problem: I’m supposed to know everything, but I can’t even tell what I’m thinking half the time unless it’s either perfect planning or negative bullshit! There’s no in between!”

     Dave sighed gently, before laying down on top of Dirk heavily, wrapping his arms around him best he could in their position to hug him tight. He nuzzled the side of his head against his chest, listened to his frantic heartbeat and inhaled slowly.

     “I think you think too much, but that’s not exactly a new idea. I also think it’s bullshit that you’ve gotta be perfect. There’s no such thing as perfect, Dirk. The sooner you realize that, the better you’ll be. Besides. I don’t want perfect. Look at me, you think I’ve ever wanted perfect? I want the idiot I fell in love with.”

     “...You deserve perfect,” Dirk murmured, glancing down at Dave’s head on his chest. “You and everyone else deserve perfect.”

     “And what do you deserve then? Are you upset I’m not perfect?”

     “I don’t deserve perfection.”

     “You just need to give it to everyone else?”

     Dirk grimaced at the paradox, but nodded.

     “...You especially deserve perfect, after what my splinter did to you growing up. I had no control over that, but the fact it was me just…” he trailed off for a moment before gritting his teeth and continuing. “...I don’t like knowing I could just do it all over again. But worse.”

     “Do you want to act like an asshole?” Dave asked genuinely, turning his pale head up to look Dirk in the eyes.

     “No! Of course I don’t!”

     “Do you want to hurt me? Or make me upset?”

     “Why the fuck would I want that!”

     “Then we Gucci, man. Chillax. If you don’t want somethin’ to happen then it prolly won’t happen just by sheer force of will. Barrin’ that, if anything does happen… I know it ain’t intentional, and we can talk shit out. Like adults.”

     “His bullshit wasn’t entirely intentional either,” Dirk pointed out.

     “Would you do the exact same?”

     “Fuck no.”

     “Then yeah. We Gucci.”

     So simple.

     Dave’s view of things was so simple it made Dirk alternately want to yank his hair out in frustration and weep in gratitude. He could get to the root of the issue better than anyone else could, and could hold him to task in just such a way that there was no real arguing with him. He felt his eyes watering again and finally reached up in frustration to rub the moisture away, huffing a breath to quell the inane urge to cry.

     Why would he ruin such a perfect moment?

     “If you need to get it out, just let it out man,” Dave murmured soothingly, scooting up a bit further to kiss Dirk’s sharp jawbone and his cheek once again. “No use bottlin’ shit up around me…”

     The husky breath he’d taken before came back as a sharp inhale as his eyes watered further. No, no, he’d exercise this much control at least. He wasn’t going to be a bitch and cry, crying was for the weak, crying was for people who weren’t him, crying was… 

     Crying was happening. There were no huge wracking sobs, but instead the quiet hiccups of broken pride came bubbling to the surface as Dave continued to kiss at his face. This was stupid. He was stupid. This entire day was stupid, yet here he was crying in front of someone else. 

     There was only warmth, and Dave sturdy and solid as a rock above him, tenderness in his lips and hands that cruised slowly over his torso in comforting circles. He was crying and being held, and Dirk couldn’t imagine anything in the world being more important than how incredibly safe he felt. It was a strange new feeling of vulnerability, of letting himself be broken and not having the world explode around him in response. There was no great disaster, no other shoe hitting the floor. There was only him and Dave in this safe bubble of comfort and coziness, and he didn’t want it to ever go away.

     ...Could he have this? Could this be something he could have? This security for being vulnerable? Dave was kissing his lips now, and even though he continued to cry, it was opening a well inside of his chest that he hadn’t been expecting. Dirk reached up to grasp hold of Dave’s shoulders, holding him in place for the kiss even as it grew messy with tears and slightly missed lips. Desperate. He didn’t want to let go of this man, didn’t want him to disappear and leave him free floating again.

     Before he could have floated forever, but now that he had opened the floodgates there was no turning back for him. Not yet. Maybe not ever, but certainly not yet. 

     They clung together in that endless sea for what felt like forever, till slowly the kisses turned from comforting to warmer, sensual, full of love and intention. Dave kissed him deeper and it was like a song in Dirk’s heart, filled with all the ‘I love you’ he could imagine, making him part his lips in welcome as he handed over the lead. He’d given up control with Dave before, but usually under the assumption that at a moments notice he could have it back, or that he was in control in a lesser way. Now? He didn’t want the tether. Dave could have it, it had his name on it and was sealed with a kiss.

     Dave trailed his fingers along his chest, his stomach, down lower till he could slip beneath the edge of his shirt and splay his palm on bare, warm skin. He traced the lines of muscle, of his ribs, of his collarbone and the edges of his throat before trailing back down once more. Dirk could feel his fingertips brush a nipple, the way it perked to attention and wanted more, and he arched his back to try giving a hint till he felt those fingers come back to the right spot, rolling it gently. The sensation went straight to his dick, calling it to attention the more Dave kissed him and stroked at his chest, playing him like a well tuned piano.

     When the kisses headed towards his neck, biting and nibbling, suckling small bruises into the flesh, Dave turned his hand southward and abandoned Dirk’s nipple in favor of kneading at his dick through his pants, coaxing him towards full hardness till he was straining the fabric and squirming in place.

     It was strange, not having control. Not bad, but.. Strange. The urge to grab Dave back, to push till they flipped over, to pin him down and bite him back till he writhed was there, but somehow Dirk managed to keep himself in check. Dave had him now, he was safe and the lack of control was a bit thrilling in unexpected ways. He was pretty sure Dave’s hand was going to stay in place, but there it was crawling back up his torso like a spider to tease him further, dragging his nails down his sides till he twitched and spasmed from the slight ticklish sensation they brought him.

     “Touch me where I want it,” Dirk grumbled, continuing to arch and sway as if he were twisting music to Dave’s conductor baton.

     “I am touchin’ you where you want it,” Dave smirked, biting him hard enough Dirk groaned. “If you didn’t like it you’d have made me stop by now.”

     Damn it, he was right. He was right and it drove Dirk batshit that he was right and that there was nothing he could say to contradict him. He loved the way Dave was touching him, holding him secure with his other arm, the way his breath felt on his nape, the way he could feel him hard against his thigh. Biting his lip for a moment, Dirk moved his leg, nudging Dave’s erection till he shuddered.

     “Hey, no cheatin’.”

     “I’m not cheating, I’m just doing something nice for you,” he said, all innocence despite the deeply satisfying fact that Dave’s hand dove back down to grope at him in retaliation. There we go, much better.

     Still a tiny bit of control, that was good.

     Soon enough layers were coming off at Dave’s insistence, both of them sitting up enough to remove their shirts before Dave came back to hook his fingers into Dirk’s belt loops, kissing down his stomach and abdomen as he shimmied them down. The second Dirk’s cock was free it sprang up to gently whack his chin and earned a kiss. Then, further kisses, all the way down the warm shaft to his testicles, down his thighs as they were bared till he pulled back and whipped the pants off the rest of the way.

     “Wait, don’t throw those too far,” Dirk said. “My wallet’s got a condom in it, it shoul-”

     “You carry a condom in your wallet?” Dave asked, incredulous.

     “...Around you? Of course?” Dirk said, surprised. “You think either of us can handle it dry when the mood strikes?”

     He couldn’t help but laugh a bit, surprised but not surprised at Dirk’s thorough thinking ahead. The only thing missing was a little lube packet, but they could make do. He didn’t just want to feel him, to taste him: he wanted to be even closer to him, close as possible. Wanted to hold him steady and wreck him a bit, then put him back together. Make this moment of weakness worthwhile for him, reward him for the openness, maybe encourage future responsiveness. 

     While Dirk was trying to continue explaining the necessity of keeping a condom around for their dalliances, about maybe even investing in some packets of lube to ease things even further, Dave lowered his head and took the head of his dick into his mouth. The red color hadn’t been exaggerated, it was like a firebrand on his tongue, salty with precome and heavy in his mouth. The explanation paused with a quiet “Oh...” before Dirk dropped his head back where he lay, exhaling a slow sigh of relief as Dave hollowed his cheeks and began to suckle, soon slipping down further to bob his head in time to some unheard tempo.

     “Fuck, Dave, fuck …”

     Music to his ears. Messily, Dave let himself drool before he took some of the excess onto his fingers to work Dirk open, wanting to assail his prostate till he was writhing. One finger was simple and by the time he added a second and made a come hither motion, Dirk was squirming in place.

     “Dave, Da- ahh, fuck, yes, yes…”

     Hearing Dirk croon was enough to make Dave’s dick ache, and he was quick to hunt around, trying to find the mound that would make him see stars. Based on Dirk’s panting he knew he was getting close as he continued to work him over, but it wasn’t till he actually hit it that his lover got more vocal, dropping words in favor of a heady, sweet moan as his legs tensed against Dave’s shoulders. 

     Nailed it.

     Dave pulled off of Dirk’s cock with a wet slurp as he rubbed his prostate mercilessly, making him twitch and spasm with every stroke, smirking as he occasionally licked the underside of his shaft to keep him on edge.

     “That’s right, you like that don’t you? You like being played with like this,” Dave murmured. He could think of filthy things to say, lewd and sensual, but somehow it didn’t feel right for the mood. Dirk was feeling some kind of fragile, and coaxing him along while he let his guard down even further was important right now. They were exposed in a literal sense, in the living room for fucks sake, but they were lost in their own little world, the last two people in existence for all they cared right then.

     A second finger gave way to a third, and Dirk was starting to whine from overstimulation, starting to beg.

     “Please Dave, fuck me, just fuck me, come on, I’m going crazy here, take out the fingers and give me something more, please, please, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck ..!”

     “Okay, okay, gimme a second,” Dave said, though he continued to rub mercilessly till there were tears in Dirk’s eyes once more and he could hear him choking on air as he hiccupped a sob.

     It wasn’t till he heard “Please” in that perfect, desperate, needy, voice cracking tone that he finally withdrew his fingers and let Dirk catch his breath. It gave him time to hunt down Dirk’s wallet in his pocket, to pull out the condom that was indeed inside, safe and sound. He tore the wrapper with his teeth and rolled it on after pinching the tip, unsurprised when it masked his cock with a soft shade of red. A few adjustments and he was scooting closer to Dirk again, lifting his hips up to position him… then changing his mind, crawling up his body for a moment to kiss him soundly, swallowing another hiccup down as he did so.

     Their teeth clicked briefly, but Dave wanted to be sure he got the message across loud and clear in Dirk’s mind: he was safe. Everything was okay. Things were going to be fine. He had him now, and everything was going to be okay. It was safe to let go of control, someone was there to hold him together.

     Dirk shivered when Dave pulled back and positioned himself, prodding at his entrance  to test the waters, torn between wanting to watch what was happening and wanting to focus only on the sensation, nerves alight already at the teasing of pressure thanks to the intensive fingering he’d endured minutes before. Dirk lifted his legs to press his knees against Dave’s hips, and sighed when he finally slid inside. There was enough lubrication on the condom to see them through, more or less, and he’d deal with any lingering discomfort if it came.

     He needed this. He needed Dave on top of him, holding him down, Dave inside of him filling his body, Dave’s eyes on him and only him, heart in his throat and hammering in his ears. He needed the pressure building up inside of him as he pressed deeper and deeper till they were flush, needed the way Dave shook a bit and-

     Dave braced his weight on one forearm and reached up with his other hand to brush hair out of Dirk’s eyes.

     “I wanna see you lookin’ at me the entire time, alright?” he murmured softly, just loud enough for Dirk to hear him clearly. Dirk gave him a nod, and let his arms lift to encircle around Dave’s neck, hugging him briefly before he let go and grasped at his arm instead.

     “Please,” Dirk said again, a barely there whisper.

     Dave complied by pulling his hips back and slamming them forward hard enough that Dirk was jostled in place, teeth clicking in surprise.

     “Aah!” Holy shit, that had been a shock, but it just kept coming. Dave kept pulling almost all the way out and slamming home, long languid retreats and hurried returns in a pattern that was quickly making Dirk lose his mind all over again. He scratched at his arms, his back, tried begging again, but Dave wasn’t going to give another inch. The relentless hammering continued for what felt like ages before finally, at last, Dave picked up the pace into a staccato of quick thrusts that barely seemed to last long enough. In fact, it mostly seemed like he was trying to drive him up the wall by hitting his prostate again and again, already over stimulated from before and now sensitive to the point of almost pain.

     ...But Dirk knew he was secure. Dave wouldn’t hurt him. He wouldn’t go too far. He had to trust that he’d be fine, that nothing would go wrong. He dug his heels into the carpet and braced himself as he panted and crooned, just trying to steel his body to take whatever Dave threw at him. He could take this. He could handle it.

     The sound of skin slapping skin bounced off the walls around them, accentuating the noises both of them were making, unable to stay quiet. While Dirk was moaning and groaning, Dave was incapable of shutting his mouth, babbling the entire time. Praise, confessions of love, promises that he was there, that Dirk was so perfect, so handsome, so cared for, so special. Dirk didn’t know how to handle it, the double whammy of being ridden as if it was their first (or last) time while being so praised, so loved. It made something twist in his stomach at just the right time, shattering whatever self restraint he had lingering in the back of his head.

     Dirk came with alarming rapidity, splattering a white stream of come onto his own stomach, onto Dave’s where their bodies were pressed together. He slowed, briefly, and shifted back to the steady, hard thrusts once more till Dirk cried out for him, begged him, clawed at him, he couldn’t take much more of this. Even if things were going to be fine, he could only take so much without breaking, and Dave had to be mindful of that.

     Luckily, the desperate sounds, the biting, the scratching and the delicious way Dirk’s body tensed around his cock made it so Dave wasn’t too far behind him in finishing. A few more languid pulls back and with a final slam home he came, collapsing onto Dirk’s body to hold and squeeze him tightly, kissing at his neck, his tear stained face, his lips hard enough to nearly bruise them. Desperate for contact, for any kind of extra touch he could give to congratulate Dirk on what had happened, for letting him do this. For being with him the entire time, present and in himself and just involved enough to pass the baton.

     They lay quietly together as Dave went soft within him, only slipping out when they’d stopped their frantic kissing and touching so he could pull off and tie the condom, disposing of it in the trash. Shaky legged, Dave stood up on slightly rug burnt and sore shaky legs to knee walk to the couch, dragging one of the soft blankets and a cushion down from its surface to drag to the floor.

     “You kinda deserve the world right now,” Dave said, voice heavy and soft, “...but will a blanket pile do in the meantime?”

     Dirk smirked at him and nodded, allowing the soft materials to be dumped onto him before he lifted an arm expectantly, making room for Dave to come back and join him. Dave grabbed the remote before cuddling up beside him under the blanket, resting on his back so Dirk could curl against his side and rest his head on his shoulder. The movie was turned back on, though the volume was lowered, softened to match the mood.

     “You know,” Dirk said, voice rough and barely there, “I had a hell of a headache earlier.”

     “Yeah?”

     “I think you fucked it out of me.”

     “I didn’t know my dick had healing powers. That mean you gonna try’n ride me every time you get a migraine?”

     “I might,” Dirk snorted.

     “I wouldn’t mind, but we’d have to keep it hush hush. I don’t wanna have to guard my meat truncheon from thirsty headache addled strangers huntin’ me down because you told the world I’m a miracle worker. People would be linin’ up around the block to lay hands upon the wonderment.”

     “Dave.”

     “Gonna be gettin’ cease and desist letters from the Pope on account of my dick.”

     “Dave.”

     “Get Dave Junior a PR agent before rumors start that it causes cancer or some kind of weird shit.”

     “Dave.”

     “It won’t be a real party till there’s protesters outside with picket signs on account of the majestic healin’ powers of my-”

     “ Dave.

     “What.”

     “....I love you, but shut the fuck up and watch this movie with me.”

     “...Yeah. I can do that.”