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Dave: Turn 18

A young man stands in front of a tattoo shop. It just so happens that today, the 3rd of December, is this young man’s birthday. Though it was eighteen years ago that he was given life, it is only today that he will be given legal recognition as an adult, along with a slew of arbitrary rights. What will he do to mark this momentous occasion?

 

Dave: Engage in rite of passage

Your name is DAVE STRIDER and you are going to get your cock pierced. Five years ago you played a game, died a few times, won, and saved the world. Today you are five years older and just a little bit less nervous than when you faced Jack Noir.

Not on the outside though. On the outside you are cool and so chill, standing in front of the neon lit doorway like a fucking pillar of rad while your best friend tugs at your arm.

“Dave, this is really silly! Can’t you just buy cigarettes or walk into a sex shop and then run out in embarrassment like everyone else?”

“Dude I’ve tried smoking and hated it. I have more porn on my hard drive than I could ever legitimately want. No man, none of that lame shit. This is what’s happening.” John’s pathetic chumpitude steels your own faltering resolve. You take a step towards the door and John is all but helpless to follow.

“You’re not gonna make me watch are you? I might totally puke.”

“Relax bro I don’t need you getting an eyeful of my bloody junk. I know it’d scar you for the rest of your non-homosexual life.”

“You’re the one that’s gonna be scarred! Heheh…”

“Very good Egbert now come on.”

You plow through the door with your friend in tow. It’s all bright lights and low buzzing sounds mixed with an ever-present scent of rubbing alcohol. Example tattoos line the walls, scantily clad sailor babes, chinese dragons, lots of tribal shit like the one your Bro ironically has on his shoulder. You walk up to the counter with so much fucking swagger while John nearly trips over himself, looking around wildly.

“One dick piercing, please,” you say in the most cool and nonchalant manner to the girl behind the counter, who probably makes TSA agents run for the hills when she walks into an airport with all that metal in her.

She raises a heavily studded eyebrow and asks for your ID. You produce it, no big deal at all, just turned 18, whatever. She wishes you a happy birthday and pulls out a binder from behind the counter.

You manage to keep a straight face despite John’s new sound of revulsion and horror at every page turn. Yeah, some of this shit is pretty dire, and not all these dudes are the perfect models. You’re starting to have second thoughts, but you tell yourself to quit being a pussy and put your finger on on the most elaborate looking one in the book. “This one.”

“Dave are you kidding? I thought this was a piercing, singular!”

“I’m thinkin’ seven of these bad boys.”

“SEVEN? Dave that’s going hurt! Oh shit, I might faint just thinking about it.”

“Then who’s gonna hold my hand while this chick sticks a needle through my sensitive flesh? Buck the fuck up John. Do I even need to say it at this point?”

“Yeah yeah, where doing it man. Better you than me I guess.”

“Just wait a few months till your birthday dude.”

——

You can’t pretend it isn’t awkward, sitting in the dentist-style chair with your pants down, the piercer all up in your downstairs grill, and John adamantly facing the other way. You sure fucking try to though. Your heart is racing and you feel sweat beginning to gather on your brow as disinfectant is spread on the underside of your cock, making the skin feel suddenly cold. You keep your mouth and breath level though, even if your eyes are frantically searching for alternate exits from behind your shades.

“Is it over yet?”

“She hasn’t even started bro.”

“Well then it’s not too late! Are you really sure about this?”

“I am so sure man. I have the certainty of this on lockdown. Maximum security life sentence on this sureness. I-”

She looks up and informs you she’s about to start sticking you.

“Uh…okay.” You’re not going to squeeze Egbert’s hand you’re not going to do it you’re not you’re not you’re not.

“Oh shit.” You squeeze John’s hand as you feel the needle going through just under the head of your penis. It’s a sharp, unignorable type of pain, but soon it’s gone, replaced by a dull ache.

“Did she do it? Is…is there blood?” John is biting his lip and you can tell he sort of wants to look.

“Yeah you should see this man there is more blood than Dead Alive, splattering the walls and everything.”

“Ugh, don’t joke. Does it hurt?”

“A little, no big deal,” you say, watching as the girl neatly slides the first curved barbell in and screws the bead on. Really it hadn’t been so bad. You feel stupid for panicking so much. The rest will be a piece of cake. You still find yourself grimacing slightly when she readies the needle again for the next one down.

Six more pricks to your prick later you’re dick is good and holey. The pain lingers insistently and you try to dismiss it as the piercer gives you salt and soap and instructs you on the care and feeding of a metal-mounted member. John keeps looking at you worriedly so you keep up your cool act. No need to alarm the children.

You know it should be exactly what you’re treating it as, no big deal. But you can’t help but feel proud of yourself for going through with it. You’re a man now, and you have earned your wings in the form of seven silver barbells running down the underside of your junk.

“Are you okay?” John asks as you exit the store and walk back to the shitheap of a car your Bro passed on to you this auspicious day.

“Do I look like I’m writhing in pain here, Egbert?”

“Wow man you must be sooooooo cool to not feel anything at all.”

“Yeah okay it hurts like hell you got me.”

“Heheh. Don’t worry Dave you totally earned the ice cream I’m gonna buy you!”

“Sweet.”
-----------
Dave: Get pestered by Bro

--brodaciousStridenasty [BS] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 20:35--
BS: okay dude spill it.
TG: spill what bro
BS: dont even try to play dumb dave.
TG: there is no playing going on i am deadly serious about being a stupid oblivious fuckwad
BS: you really need to work on your cool. especially when youve got syphilis or some shit.
TG: what
BS: dont pretend you havent been walking funny the last few days. tryin to get outta strife.
BS: i see your little pursed lips twistin up with anguished pain.
BS: did you get a hooker plus crotchrot for your bday or somethin.
TG: come on bro you know me better than that
BS: so then whats up.
TG: i dont have to tell you im eighteen now youre not my real dad
BS: enough with the ironic teen angst bullshit. whats eating you between your legs.
TG: fine i got a jacobs ladder okay whatre you gonna do about it
BS: a what.
TG: google it you asshole
BS: nah i think im gonna make you tell me.
TG: gog damnt
TG: i got a frenum ladder its a piercing
TG: some silver barbells goin down my dick
BS: yeah i know i googled it.
TG: fucker
BS: so you seriously got this shit in your junk.
TG: yeah so
BS: hm.
TG: what
BS: can i see it.
TG: uh
----------

Dave: Consider your options.

Well, really there’s not much to consider here. You either show your Bro your piercing or you don’t. It’s not like it’s really a big deal. Dudes see each others’ junk all the time. Especially family members. You can’t recall how many times you got an indecent view of Bro while he was chilling around the house after a shower or on a hot day. You can probably give a ballpark estimate though, because though those instances may not have been a big deal for him, they kind of were for you.

Yeah, so maybe you have a crush or something on your big brother. But seriously, who could resist when the guy was so cool and cut and solid. Not to mention that you’re pretty much the only person he gives a damn about. That makes you feel kind of awesome in a weird way. Like you’re still a kid dealing with new hormones instead of a legit adult.

So for you, it kind of is a big deal to be showing off your spam porpoise to him, even though he’d seen it plenty of times you were younger. This is different though. Of course if you say no then he’ll probably think something’s up. Shit. You’re already wasting time here. you stare at the screen for a few moments before finally typing.

TG: yeah ok

You’ve only just hit enter and Bro is already leaning against your door frame, and your stomach drops just a little. You keep it together though. You just raise an eyebrow.

“Eager much?”

“Just wanna see this spectacle before it gets gangrene and falls off.”

“Psh. As if dude. This business is so pristine.”

“Well then whip it out.”

You nod and bite your tongue, trying not to show any signs of hesitation as you unzip your jeans. It’s still pretty tender down there, so you take care as you slide yourself out of your boxers. You hold your studded cock up gently by the head so Bro can see the underside. It’s impossible not to watch his face for a reaction. It’s impossible for you to not give a damn about his reaction.

His face is impassive. But you’ve lived with him long enough to know where else to look. You see his adam’s apple bob up and then back down as he swallows, his shaded gaze directed at the goods. You thought you were miles past blushing but your face feels suddenly hot, and you are quick to put your dick away. You stifle a hiss, having done this too fast for your sensitive skin. You look up to see if Bro caught it but he’s looking away now.

“Neat,” he says flatly.

“I know right.” You swivel your chair back to face your desk, hoping Bro will go away before you get too flustered to hide it.

“You takin’ care of it?” When did he move? He’s propping himself up with one hand on your desk now. Bastard is still too stealthy for you.

“Yup. All kinds of saltwater baths and shit.” Please go away you sexy motherfucker.

“Kay. Well have fun dude.” There’s a hint of something in his voice. It wouldn’t have been undetectable to anyone else. It almost sounds like...jealousy? Oh shit, did you just one-up him? Is he jealous he didn’t think of this first? Oh fuck this is like, the day you win or something. You really should do something. Jump up and say ‘In your face Bro,’ and gloat.

While you’re deciding whether you could get away with doing it ironically, Bro pushes himself off your desk and ruffles your hair. And just like that you feel like a fucking kid again.

“Seriously pretty cool Dave way to go,” he says, and then he’s gone. You feel like jerking off, but the pain is still too much. That’s pretty much been the worst thing about all this. Not being able to come ‘cause your deal is fucked. So you put all thoughts of Bro out of your mind and do what always gets you flaccid in seconds.

--turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 20:41--

TG: sup man
TG: silly me but i seem to have forgotten the plot of city of angels

-----------------

Over the next week Bro will not step off about your new adornments.

“Anyone climbing that ladder of yours yet bro?”

“Get any braces snagged in that thing?”

“Oh hey man did your metal dick lead you in here to my magnetic personality?”

“Sup dude how’s RoboCock? Kicking the ass of criminal cum in Dicktroit?”

You just roll your eyes and carry on with your business, trying to act your age and be more chill than he is, which you totally are now. The ribbing covering his envy is so transparent it’s not even funny or ironic. You actually get a little crabby around him, which he smirks off and asks, “Shit, who shoved a nail in your dick?”

It doesn’t help that the dull ache of the barbells going through your frenulum hasn’t subsided. If anything it’s gotten a little worse. So maybe you haven’t been taking care of it exactly to the letter of the instructions. You started out applying antibacterial soap and saltwater religiously, but after awhile you fall out of the habit. You’re a busy guy and you have midterms! You hope it’ll just heal on its own and you can get on with your sweet life.

When you come home from your last day of school before winter break you’re scowling in discomfort and you don’t even give Cal a fistbump when you pass him on the futon. You throw down your backpack and flop onto your bed, wondering if you’ll ever be able to masturbate again.

“Hey Dave. Piercer got your cock?”

“Shut up Bro. Not in the mood for your hilarious bullshit.”

“You’re not takin’ care of it are you?”

“Whatever.”

“You think you’re too cool to get an infection man?”

“Leave me alone god damn. I lost the salt they gave me.”

“Am I gonna have to pin you down and do it for you?”

“...” You pause, a fatal mistake. You’re already imagining it happening, at a loss for words. And then it is happening. He’s on you in a second, knee in your chest and hand at your fly. You flail helplessly, trying to pry him off as he gets your pants down like a fucking sexual harassment ninja. You can’t struggle too much, since your crotch is in a very vulnerable state at the moment. Bro almost literally has you by the balls here.

It wouldn’t be so terrifying If Bro touching you like this didn’t do such horribly strange things to you. It’d still be really awkward and infuriating, but as it is, it’s also undeniably arousing. You focus on the pain so you don’t embarrass yourself as Bro produces soap from his sylladex as well as your lost baggie of sea salt.

“Found this behind the toilet, gotta keep better track of your manhood maintenance materials, my main man..” You put up a few more vain attempts to escape as Bro mixes the salt in a red Dixie cup of water. You thought you might have a chance against him at this point, when you’re almost as tall as him. But he still reigns supreme, even when he’s about to give your cock a spongebath.

You’re glad he can’t see you biting your lip as he wipes a warm, wet rag from the bottom of the ladder to the top, slipping over and soaking each rung. It’s a strange sensation, feeling your skin sandwiched between the soft cloth and the hard metal inside of you. You really can’t wait for it to heal so you can touch it properly. Or...have Bro do the touching without it hurting so much. You stop that thought immediately before it can get too hot to handle.

“Feels better already I bet,” he comments offhandedly as he starts gently rubbing you down with soap.

“It’ll feel great once you get your fucking hands off me you weird fuckface.” You can’t figure out why he’s doing this. Is it just to torture you? If that’s the case then he has no idea how well he’s achieving his goal. At your last statement however, he gives a derisive snort, and finishes up so fast you don’t even realize it. Then he’s gone again and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

---

You figure out his angle the next day. He jumps you again, going on about proper hygiene and shit, sitting you down and giving you another inappropriate cleaning. You let him because to refuse would be uncool and the part of you that thinks about him at night wants it. He’s bent over you, examining each barbell in turn. The way he’s touching them with the cloth and looking at them, it’s almost...reverent.

Of course. It’s another part of his little jealousy kick. He says he’s just looking for any signs of infection but you know the truth. He’s just admiring it, wishing he’d done it first. He can’t copy you, ‘cause it’d be the reverse of how it always is for you two. You’re glad you can hold claim to this one painful victory. Even if the effects are driving you crazy.

This continues for a few days, Bro giving you a diligent saltwater soak and “checkin’ for pus spewin’ outta there.” It’s the ultimate tease. He gets you riled up by coming close to what you’ve always fantasized about him doing, even if it is pretty clinical. And then you’re left with no way to relieve yourself. The pain is gradually subsiding but it’s not down to bearable-hand-therapy-level yet.

And not being able to decrease the pressure is making it so much harder during the cleaning sessions. Literally. You can feel a little more blood rushing to the area each time he traps you in your chair or on the futon. He must have started to notice it by now, your desperate erection growing under his hands.

“Lookin’ pretty good here,” he says one day, tracing the entrance point of one of the rungs with a featherlight touch. The superficial tissue has healed and it doesn’t hurt just to have contact there anymore. You’re already obviously half hard, and you know you’re not going to be able to stand this any more.

“Okay dude. Then can we please cut this nursemaid shit out. I got the idea, I’m perfectly capable of doin’ this myself.” He looks up at you, face a blank slate. You try to suppress a flush at his gaze while you attempt to make this about his envy instead of your awkwardness. “I mean I get that you’re mad jealous of my junk jewelry but that doesn’t mean you can just check out what you don’t have whenever you want.”

He keeps staring at you for a long time, your cock still in his hand, getting stiffer by the second. That’s it. Game over man. It’s so clear that you wish you were getting off on this. He’s going to think you’re a disgusting incestuous freak. Maybe kick you out before you even graduate high school.

Instead you think you just catch is tongue darting out across his bottom lip before he speaks.

“Yeah. I’m jealous.” He leans in unbearably close, his breath playing at your aroused and needy flesh. “Jealous of whatever lame chump gets to feel these when you fuck ‘em.” And you definitely see his tongue this time; watch with baited breath its entire journey up those seven silver barbells and the skin covering them.

Maybe you're not the only freak in the family.
--------------

Dave: Be the other guy

Other guy? You can’t be the other guy. You’re busy being THE guy, which is a full-time job. If there’s an other guy it’s definitely Dave. And that’s definitely not you because last time you checked your crotch definitely isn’t full of nails.

Anyway, speaking of.

You’re name is BRO STRIDER and you are obsessed with your little brother’s augmented cock.

You’ve been repressing your attraction to him for years, a task that has been getting steadily more difficult as he gets older. He’s been getting hotter by the month, growing into his lanky build, developing in all the right places and netting himself an extremely fuckable ass. Some days after training when he’s panting and sweaty you have to elbow him out of the way to grab the shower first. You beat off as quickly as possible under the stream of water, picturing his flushed, gasping face and that lean, perspiring body beneath you. You feel like shit afterwards for thinking about him like that, but it’s kept you from doing anything worse.

And then he went and turned 18 and got those fucking piercings. You took one look at them and all your fantasies got flipped turnways. Now it’s you who’s sweating and trying to breathe under him, getting the brunt of pleasure no plain old meat rod can give. You want to feel that hard as steel flesh plus actual steel in your hands, against your tongue, in the back of your throat, rolling past your prostate as he fucks you. It’s almost as if he knew about your insane fetish for this kind of thing and is trying to bait you or something. The one cock in the world you aren’t allowed to have and now it’s ten times as fucking beautiful.

Well. Now you really want it. It’s the seven-and-a-half-inch straw that breaks the back of the exhausted camel that is your self-restraint.

You start out what might be very dubiously considered as innocently enough. You just want to get your hands on it, just once. Is that so much to ask? You know giving it a cursory feel under the guise of aftercare won’t be enough, and you prove yourself correct after your first encounter with Dave’s exquisitely decorated dick. He seems flustered, but not in the way you expect. You start to have an inkling that maybe he’s actually attracted to you too. And really, you can’t blame him when you’re flaunting such a slammin’ body.

So it is with very well-hidden hope that you keep cleaning/molesting him. You reason with your guilty conscience that he’s too old for the arousal you start to notice to be an involuntary reaction. That’s right, he’s an adult now. He can give consent. He can punch you in the face like you deserve if he doesn’t want it.

But he doesn’t deck you. So you take the risk. When, as the cliche goes, his lips say ‘no’ but his bejeweled beef broadsword says ‘yes please touch me gog damn I am so hot for you, Bro,’ you take a chance and reveal your feelings. Yeah. You wish you had that modified cock for yourself. But you’re extremely content for Dave to have it too. You can share. Sharing is caring. He shares it with your tongue, looking dumbfounded while you share the pleasure you can make his nerve endings give him.

“Uhh, Bro...?” he says, barely above a whisper.

“Yes, Dave?” you ask, looking harshly over your shades as if displeased by Dave’s rude interruption of your sponge-turned-tongue-bath.

“Is this...like some new whacked out irony thing?” He looks slightly terrified, clearly stunned by the view he’s getting of your eyes through the gap between your sunglasses and eyebrows. His reaction to your next statement will determine whether you get to keep sharing or if he’s going to be a selfish and completely justified bastard.

“It’s pretty damn ironic, all things considered,” you reply, pausing to taste the metal and skin one last time just in case he isn’t into it, “But I’d still be doin’ it even it wasn’t.”

“Oh.” His shoulders relax and his fingers find their way into your hair. “Awesome.”

And that’s really all there is to say on the matter.

-----

Bro: Take your share.

Now that you essentially have the go ahead, you go ahead and get down to what you’ve really been wanting to do this whole time. This involves spoiling Dave’s cock to the point of absurdity while you examine, feel, and taste every centimeter of it. You keep your younger brother captive on the futon while he desperately tries to suppress his wanton moans. It’s no use though, and soon he’s losing all kinds of cool points with his lewd noises. You let it slide though, because as you explore his metal-studded dick he fills your ears with the most delicious sounds.

“Bro for the love of sweet baby munching christ, please!

“Please what?”

“You fucking know what, let me come goddamnit!”

“Oh you wanna come huh? So I should probably just tighten up here right?”

“Ow fuck! Ow ow ow stop okay okay. Jegus.”

“Gonna have to wait for it to heal completely man. It’s doin’ good but bro I dunno if it’s gonna get there before school starts again.” You hide your malicious smirk by maneuvering your tongue under the end of the lowest barbell and lifting it up slightly.

“Awwww shihihittt... that’s haa- not fair.” His voice is staggered, almost like he’s sobbing with need. You think you might be in love.

“You’re the one who went and got your tool tagged.”

“I didn’t think you’d be fuh-fucking torturing me you bastard.”

“Am I torturing you?” you give a last swirl around the head of his cock before standing up and heading to the kitchen. “My bad. Chinese cool for dinner?”

“Oh- motherfuck... no wait Bro, come back.”

--

So maybe you’re being a little selfish, teasing Dave to the point of really not being very nice at all. But in a gesture of brolidarity you vow not to get off either until he can. You don’t tell him about this promise, of course. It’s not exactly fair since you’re not getting the near constant stimulation that he is, but it’s still quite considerate of you..

You really can’t help yourself. Whenever Dave isn’t out with his friends and you’re not working, you pretty much have to be checking him out. Your fascination with the piercings and the elegantly adorned erection they’re attached to is bordering on unhealthy.

You love running your thumb down the flesh between the two sets of beads, feeling the bars beneath the surface and the shudder and hiss the action elicits from Dave. You love dragging your tongue back up, catching each silver ball with it until they reach their limit and snap back into place as Dave groans and tugs at your hair. You love feeling the metal clack against your teeth as you take the whole thing in your mouth and inch downwards. You have to hold Dave down to keep him from bucking his hips and hurting himself. That’s the last thing you want, because the sooner he's ready for real action the better.

Until then, you are as gentle as possible, worshipping Dave’s cock with your hands and lips while he practically weeps with frustrated desire. You know he’s not used to this much attention from you, from anyone really. But as far as you’re concerned he’s good and reared now. You can drop the badass neglectful guardian thing for a little if it means you get to do this. When you finish up you always give him a legitimate salt and soap cleaning, hoping to hurry along the recovery process. He always looks torn between relief and disappointment.

After a few days he’s begging for mercy, though he doesn’t seem to know what he wants exactly. He knows he can’t come yet, he can barely take your too-light touches, but he doesn’t want you to stop. If this continues much longer you might very well drive him insane. So you show the only kind of mercy you can figure might help. You sort of got tunnel vision on his cock and forgot about the rest of him, so you tear your attention away from it for a bit. You’ve been doing this for almost a week and you haven’t even kissed him yet. Whoops.

He moans like a virgin against your lips, though you know he’s not. You’re pretty sure, anyway. He knows it’s not cool to brag. You’re fairly certain his mewling is just due to the near-perpetual pre-orgasmic state he’s been in for the last few weeks.

You wish you’d done this sooner. You’re both great kissers, and you make a fantastic team. You don’t want to get yourself worked up too much, though. You’d look way uncool if you were to get as obviously desperate as Dave is. So once he’s been rendered completely pliable by your outrageous makeout skills you pull away, taking the opportunity to make a proposal.

“Hey Dave.”

“Hmm?” he says, letting his head fall back against the futon when he realizes he’s trying to follow your lips as they get further away. He looks even more dazed than he does when you’re throat-deep on his erection.

“When it heals you’re gonna fuck me first, okay. I’m gonna be the lame chump that gets to feel those.” He stares at you through his shades, swallowing and then nodding.

“Kay,” he says, his hands drifting down to your chest, which you haven’t given him much access to since you’ve been spending all your time between his knees.

“Sweet,” you reply, thankful for your combined ability to not make these things too wordy.

“Just for the record though I wasn’t plannin’ on doin’ anything with anyone el- oh fuck Bro not again, you’re killin’ meee,” as you start to go down on him yet again. 
------------------

Bro: Be the other guy.

What other guy? Bro? You can’t be that lame chump, you’re busy being Dave. And as you can attest, that’s not an easy person to be right now with all these unfinished hjs and bjs you’re getting. You’re kind of just floating though life in an unbearably pleasurable haze, surrendering yourself to Bro’s incredibly evil whims and knowing true relief isn’t coming anytime soon.

It’s pretty intense, having been a virgin up to this point (hey, you’ve got discerning tastes that no one has been able to live up to yet, big deal) and suddenly getting a ridiculous amount of head. You think Bro must know this, and is drawing this shit out even more because of it. He’s not really even using your healing as an excuse anymore. Now he’s just being a huge jerk.

You get deepthroated for Christmas while trying to play the new Halo, your other gift. You think you might actually achieve the miracle of orgasm this time, but Bro pulls away and is gone what feels like a second before you get there. Devastated, you drop the controller and let Master HelmetBossDouchePatrol cycle through his idle animations while you try to finish yourself off. But it’s impossible without Bro’s mouth there, the pressure required by your hand is still too painful. You curse your retarded idea to ever get yourself Dickstuck.

New Year’s Eve is spent at John’s house with him, Rose, and Jade. It’s an awkward experience, because while you’re getting teased in a more conventional manner about your family jewels, you’re also thinking about Bro’s special brand of teasing. You can’t help but imagine what ironically cruel shenanigans he might have planned if you’d stayed home and he wasn’t out tearing the roof off some mother somewhere with his ill jams. Bringing you to the edge on the tip of the countdown to midnight, then making himself achingly scarce as the clock turnes over and your cock doesn’t. Fucking fuckface, getting you all hot and bothered when he’s not even here.

“Dave? Dave!”

“Hm? What?”

“Uh...Happy New Year, dumbass?”

“Oh yeah, mazel tav,“ you reply, turning your attention to the tv, where confetti is being vomitted all over Time Square.

“I can’t help but wonder where your mind was that you managed to miss the start of a new year,” Rose comments, a wicked little smile playing on her lips. Her arm is still around John, who looks just a bit flustered, the aftermath of their New Year’s kiss.

“Just thinkin’ ‘bout what your kids are gonna be like. Snarky dorkshit little tykes with glasses.” That shuts her up, but she certainly does not look impressed.

“Man it’s no fair! John and Rose get to kiss, and now I’m gonna be lonely all year.”

“You want some platonic makeouts Harley? We’ll kick that retarded superstition in its ass.”

“Um, won’t that be weird? With you being gay and all?”

“I’m more worried about you, being uncool and all. Might overload your circuits with all this chill I’m exuding.”

“You’re not that chill lately Dave, you’re kinda cranky!”

“It’s true, Dave, you have been rather testy. And I’m beginning to think it’s not just due to your...ah, genital adornments.”

“Yeah bro what’s eating you?”

“Nothin’,” you reply, and it’s insane how appropriate John’s word choice is, “Look, pucker up Jade I am going to prove how uncranky I am with the most incredible peck on the lips you will ever experience.”

“Aaa, this is so weeeird, you’re my friend!”

“Just pretend we’re french and averaging out the two cheek kisses in the middle.”

“What? This isn’t going to be a french kiss is it?!”

“Oh my gog will you just shut up and come here?”
----

Things get positively fucking ricockulous once school starts up again. You pretty much have to strife with Bro to keep him away from your beef truncheon long enough to do your homework. You’ll be damned if his incredible hands and mouth are going to keep you from graduating.

It’s been a fucking month since you’ve come. You’re starting to get past the point of cranky into downright curmudgitude, and everyone’s starting to notice. As much as you are addicted to them, Bro’s attentions are driving you to the breaking point. Brorage lust doesn’t begin to properly describe the anger and sexual frustration building up within you. The things you are going to do to that cocktart as soon as your enfeebled wang can handle it.

And then one day, about a week and a half into the semester, you realize you’re not wincing whenever you shift the wrong way in your desk during class. A trip to the restroom and a tentative fondling confirm your suspicions. Yes, you are fucking ready to fuck. The mere thought makes you hard, and you consider jerking it right here in the stall. You could end the torment here and now, and your curled fingers pulling over the barbells feels incredible. You lick your lips, close your eyes, and think of Bro. Bro. He wants you to fuck him. You never thought anything like this could happen to you, but Dear Penthouse, it’s totally going to. You bite your lip as you imagine him groaning, something you’ve never heard from him, and pick up the pace of your strokes.

And then, you stop. You’re kind of amazed at yourself, but you don’t want to come right now. As pissed off at him as you are, you still want to save your first jizz since the ladder for Bro. You wonder if this is some twisted form of love as you stuff your [HILARIOUS EUPHEMISM] back into your pants. It takes some adjustment to hide your raging boner, but you’ve become pretty skilled at that lately. All you have to do now is get through the day.

The ride home on the bus is pretty bad (your car stopped working a week after Bro gave it to you). Custom dictates that you sit in the back, cool kids only, and the vibration-heavy journey leaves you even more uncomfortable and peeved.

You’re practically boiling with want and vexation as you slam open the door to the apartment. Bro is half-laying on the futon, playing Halo. He lazily turns his head and grins lasciviously at you, no doubt planning to get you moaning and helpless under him again. Not this time.

If you could concentrate right now you’d flash step over, but you can’t. So you just stomp around the back of the futon until you’re standing in front of him. Then you’re on him, pushing him into the mattress with a literal fuckton of force. He moans lowly as you crush your lips into his and grind against him, biting, pulling his hair and digging your nails into his shoulder. You nearly come in your pants from the sound alone as you unleash all your pent-up violently carnal urges on him.

“Pants off,” you demand when you pull away, unzipping your own. The way he looks at you, completely unguarded and desirous as he hastens to comply, makes you realize that he’s just as desperate for this as you are. It sends another dangerous jolt to your cock, and it takes a good deal of effort not to splooge early (though after a month and a quarter it can hardly be called early).

Bro lets a suspiciously genuine-looking eager smile flash across his face.“Holy shit yes, fucking finally.”
------

Dave: Get cockblocked again

What? No. Hell fucking no with a cherry on top you have been waiting for a gogdamn month and now you don’t have to wait anymore more, all parties are present and accounted for including your steel-enhanced flesh sword and Bro’s sweet ass and there is no way in hell

“Wait hold up a minute.”

You grit your teeth and stare at him, obeying him if only to take in the sheer audacity of such a request. You’re about to strangle him or something when you suddenly find your positions reversed. He’s over you, holding your fighting wrists against the futon so he can get a word in without getting punched. Your pants are off but his are only half open, and there’s something seriously wrong with this picture.

“You’re not gonna last five seconds like this. You wanna go nice and long for me don’t you?” He’s right, you’re already so horny, probably won’t even be able to get it all the way in before you’re coming, and that would be incredibly lame. So you try to calm down and let him do what needs to be done, though you’re still squirming with incredible impatience. Bro lets go of your arms to rip your boxers down, and he resumes his usual position with his head on your crotch.

This time, however, he’s obviously trying to make you come. He swallows you down to the base, closing his mouth and sucking. You make all sorts of embarrassing noises as he strokes his tongue along the little silver balls, flicking and nudging them. Now that it doesn’t hurt and Bro’s not just teasing, it feels absolutely heavenly. You press Bro’s head down until you can hear him gagging, the spasms of his throat making it all the sweeter. It’s not twenty seconds since he started before you’re on the verge of coming, past any point of return.

You welcome this moment with a shaking, noisy sigh, weeks of tension unwinding as your muscles contract and dopamine floods your brain. You vaguely hear Bro coughing as he deals with your spunk, and your tight grip on his hair turns into a smooth caressing gesture. You finally relax, your head still reeling with the long-due climax. Bro lifts his head, wiping his mouth as he smiles at you. “Feels good huh?”

You nod dumbly, aware that you probably don’t look too cool right now. Bro doesn’t seem to care though as he leans back against the other side of the futon and resumes undressing. The sight of him slipping off his shirt is enough to get you going again.

“My turn,” he says, pulling down his pants and positively smoldering at you, “‘S’been almost just as long for me.”

“Seriously?” you ask, incredulous as you clamber over to lay hands on his toned torso.

“Yup,” he replies like it’s no big deal. You stare at him for a minute, puzzling out what his gesture of self-sacrifice could possibly mean. Instead of stopping to talk about it like a girl, you lean forward and kiss him, not even caring that your dick was just where your mouth is now. You can taste yourself on his tongue as you slide yours along it, and it just makes you harder. His pants come off as you’re running your fingers over all the places you couldn’t reach when he was teasing you.

“Okay seriously,” he says, breaking away from your lips, “We got plenty of time for foreplay later, let’s get down to the delirious biznasty.” You couldn’t agree more.
---

Dave: Be the lame chump

Gladly. A cool guy like you can take a little chumpitude for the sake of getting some prime cock+. Watching Dave come made you incredibly hot for him, and you hope letting him jizz before he fucked you won’t make him any less forceful and needy with it. You’re feeling pretty damn needy right now yourself, and your cool is teetering on a precipice as you let him feel you up while you reach under the futon for you sexessories.

Dave grumbles a little when you start unwrapping a condom.

“Oh sorry did you want an infection?”

He still looks a bit miffed until you start rolling it onto his cock with your lips. Honestly he’s probably tired of oral by now, but you don’t think your tongue will ever find those studs in his flesh boring.

You set him up on his knees and slather him with lube. “There. Now all you gotta do is fuck me.” You really are quite nice, getting all the precursors out of the way for him.

“Shouldn’t I... ya know.” He wiggles two of his fingers obscenely and you smirk before turning over onto your own hands and knees.

“Don’t worry. I’ve been practicing.” He groans, either a big fan of the image of you fingering yourself or the sight of you bending over in front of him on all fours. Maybe both.

You wait with admirable patience to claim your reward, breathing deeply. Finally you feel a tentative hand grasp your hip, another gripping at your choice rump. And then nothing happens for awhile.

You sigh and look back, thinking maybe you shouldn’t have blown him, so he’d still be desperate enough to just go for it. His mouth is hanging open a bit, but he snaps it shut when he notices you looking. You wonder if he’s hesitant because you’re his Bro. Or maybe he really is a virgin. Maybe both.

You reach back with one hand, placing it over the slightly smaller one on your hip.

“Come on dude, fuck me.” It takes a lot of super sweet skill to say such uncouth words with calm reassurance. But you manage ‘cause you’re you.

“‘Kay,” he replies and it only sounds a little shaky. The hands on you tighten in resolve, and you finally feel the messy wet head of his dick press against you.

You know how to take this like a man, up till the barbells, at least. You exhale deeply as he pushes in, savoring the strangled sounds he makes at the tightness of your ass.

“Mmn, yeah,” you say encouragingly, shifting your hips back against him, still managing to keep your voice composed. That is, until you feel the first rung of the ladder pressing against the ring of muscle. Your breath catches and so does his as it provides a bit of resistance before popping inside. You groan, and his palms squeeze you hard.

Both your breathing is ragged as he continues, both of you making a pretty uncool noise for each of the barbells going in. When they start brushing against your prostate you shiver and let out a low sound of intense pleasure. The metal bumps on Dave’s dick are perfect, and you can’t wait for him to start moving in earnest.

After a good deal of torturous slow movement, you’re little bro is all the way inside you and you’re gasping at the fullness you feel. You let your head drop and see your own cock, plain, hard and dripping precum onto the mattress. It’s incredibly hard to care about the mess you’re making, because Dave is asking you if he can move now.

You nod your head enthusiastically, adding a “Yeah go for it,” in case he has his eyes closed or something. You suck in a breath as he starts to pull out, the steel balls running back over your sweet spot in quick succession. This is miles beyond Ribbed For Her Pleasure. This is Fucking Studded For His Complete And Utter Ecstatic Fulfilment.

Dave asks in a somewhat shaky voice once he’s mostly out, “W-what’s it feel like Bro?”

You try to answer evenly, but he chooses this moment to shove back in and your voice goes to shit.

“I dunno like-aah- a double strand of anal beads on a really-....r-really thick string.” You don’t think you’ve ever sounded so lame in your life and you don’t care.

“Wow okay no more analogies oh fuuuck.”

“Yeah how 'bout you stop asking retarded questions and get back to that?”

“Uh huh.” And he does. When the pace is finally set, you’re reduced to a moaning mess of shudders and sighs. Every stroke is an explosion of pleasure and you’re not sure you can handle all this stimulation.

Dave seems like he’s having a swell time as well, grunting and moaning along with you as he thrusts, his hands sliding along your back, around your thighs, and every so often playing with your aching erection. It occurs that he might not be touching you fully as some sort of payback, but you’re not going to have any problem just getting off from his fucking.

In fact, you feel on the verge now, but you’re not quite ready yet.

“Stop,” you say suddenly, halting your counter-thrusts and pulling forward a bit.

“Agh, what now?” he asks agitatedly. You make this quick so he can get back inside of you as soon as possible and quit whining. Flipping yourself over on your back, you lift your hips up towards his, and he leans down to meet you.

He enters you again, and it’s an entirely different feeling now. You brusquely take your glasses off and let them fall to the floor, then reach for his. He stiffens up a bit but lets you, too busy thrusting into you to give too much of a damn.

The intensity of staring into his eyes unshielded is almost too much, but you bear with it. Dave seems to be having a bit of difficulty too, but he just grips your hips tight and bends his head down to kiss you again. You welcome him into your mouth wholeheartedly, moaning in tandem with him and holding his face in your hands. His stomach brushes against your dick and you can’t hold back anymore.

Your gasp becomes a keening cry of “Dave,” as you let loose all over your respective abdomens. You involuntarily clench down around Dave and soon he’s making an incredibly beautiful sound of “Bro,” his cock twitching inside of you.

You both still and it’s silent except for your shallow breaths mingling with each other. After half a minute devoted to recovery, Dave carefully removes himself from you and tosses the condom. You’re dreading the inevitability of stepping on it in your bare feet later, but for now you just savor the sensation of the hot metal barbells pressing into your thigh as Dave settles on top of you.

“Wow,” he mumbles.

“No fuckin’ kidding,” you reply, moving your fingers through his hair, “I’m proud of you kid, you did good.”

He laughs feebly at the absurdity of the statement, but you’re not really joking. Because while the piercings are nice, very very nice, this is really about Dave. He did something as outrageous as getting his most sensitive organ run through with a needle, seven times, and he did it on his own, not copying you or anything. You’re fucking proud of him. It’s a little sad that the days of him being your little shadow are over. But you can definitely deal with this alternative.

------

A few days later he’s eating a bowl of cereal over the sink and you creep up behind him to put your arms around him. Unfazed, he holds up a small sparkly envelope in front of your face between his middle and forefinger. You take your lips off his neck and look at it.

“What’s this?”

“Why don’t you open it and find out, asshole?” Dave replies, waving it around.

You nip at his neck and snatch the envelope before he’s finished shivering. It’s blaringly, ironically pink, and your name is written in fancy script on the front. You smirk as you open it, no idea what the hell it could be.

“Late Christmas gift,” he shrugs before slurping the milk down while you pull out the card inside.

It’s a gift certificate for a tattoo and piercing parlor. You raise an eyebrow at Dave, who has turned around and is gazing at you with an epic smirk.

“You had way too much fun with my sweet metal junk, Bro. I want some of that. And my revenge.”

Your stomach drops pleasantly as you imagine getting your comeuppance for all that you put Dave through.

“Sure, how’s tomorrow?” you reply, smirking back easily as you lean in to capture his lips. After all, what’s a little pain if that's what it takes to show how much you care? You wouldn’t want it any other way, and you knew Dave feels the same way.
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Here is a really hot picture anon drew on the kinkmeme in response. It is obvs nsfw