Chapter 1: Bleacher Smut
It seemed like an adventurous thing for him to want to do - hide out under the bleachers, away from the sun, like it's some sort of giant fucking pillow fort. He wants to peer out at the girls like you're in some secret hiding place and they didn't just watch you both run back here. Sometimes it's like he's six years old forever, innocent and adorable, and you want to keep him like that. You want to put him up on display, picture-perfect with skinned knees, dark skin and dirt on his cheeks.
He's reluctant at first, shy and bashful and scolding, "Strider!" as you lay him out in the dirt. You bury your face in his neck and take in his smell, musty with a little fragrant spice that pools warm in the bottom of your stomach. Lalonde laughs and Jake lets out a nervous whimper as you undo his pants and yank them down his hips. He wraps his arms around your shoulders. Everything he does is a fucking novelty, little diamonds that you'll roll around in your head forever.
He chokes on the sound he makes when you take him into your mouth, even though the girls are hobbling to the other side of the track by now. His back arches up to meet you and you have to watch him, you have to drink in every little thing as you suck on him as hard as you can. You grab at his ass before pressing the fleshy part of your palm against his hip bones. You rub your thumb across his tan line.
You lick at the tip of his cock, taking in his hisses and grunts like they're water in the desert when his hands find yours. He weaves your fingers into his like a grade-schooler's love confession. His hands are calloused and rough, but he's trembling and he breaks your fucking heart. You squeeze his hands in yours and he finally looks down at you, all blushing and hair messy and he's the sexiest thing you've ever seen in your life.
You drop your head and take all of him, down to your throat, keeping your gaze on his pretty green eyes. He gasps and you squeeze each other's hands. He squirms and thrusts up into you as you come down onto him. His fingertips press between your knuckles. After a few more bobs of your head he comes, with the most delicious strangled moan that amateur porn makers wish they could grab as a stock track, but you get to keep just for you.
His head drops to the side in the dirt and you watch him, panting down into relaxation. He shivers a little as you lick him off, taking every bit of jizz for yourself, salty and strange but all 100% authentic Jake English. When you're done you slip your hands out of his to pull his boxers and shorts back up, albeit half-heartedly. He does up his fly while he catches his breath.
You stretch out next to him, head on your hand while your other tucks down his shirt for him. "You are amazing," he says. Eventually.
Your jaw hurts and your cheeks hurt and your pants are too tight. You run your hand across the corner of your mouth, wet with spit or spunk or something. Jake's strewn out, his face pillowed on his own hair in the dirt, flushed and breathing becoming normal, buck-toothed and beautiful.
"I know," you reply.
Chapter 2: Post-Apocalyptic Porn Groove
Jake didn’t even stop to make sure the door was closed when they tumbled into the hotel room, he just shucked off his shorts and - commando today, hmm - pulled his shirt over his head. He leapt onto the bed and kicked to put his back against the pillows. He hardly sat still for a second before he pulled up to his knees again to reach out and grab Dirk’s wrist to pull him up to the bed on top of him. Dirk kicked off his shoes and climbed on, the springs squeaking modestly, and straddled Jake’s legs. Horny and eager and going sixty miles an hour Jake pushed up Dirk’s shirt until he could get his greedy hands all over him.
Jake hissed with impatient desire as he bucked up, grabbing at Dirk’s hips and rubbing their cocks together with Dirk’s jeans between them. The sigh that escaped Dirk was almost imperceptible. Jake made no indication if he heard or not, and instead demanded “Why are your bloody pants still on?” and proceeded to fiddle with the button and unzip Dirk’s fly.
Jake opened Dirk’s pants as wide as he could and slipped his warm hands into the cloth around his hips. Streaks of blue were left there, leftovers on Jake’s palms from the paint that covered Roxy, and Dirk watched Jake’s eyes as he smeared the traces of it with his thumb. Barely anything on him, really, and nothing left on his hands but he was probably imagining what more would look like. Or maybe he was thinking about Roxy.
Some of Roxy’s paint dried on Dirk’s left hand from when he held Jake’s. He reached and took Jake’s chin between the thumb and forefinger of his right, and tilted his head up to watch as Dirk tucked his shades over his forehead and smeared what he could across his face. It was probably just a tiny line of blue grit but Jake’s hands squeezed his hips. His eyes were wide and hungry.
“I am Shiva,” Dirk said. “Worship me.”
Jake smiled and ran his hands up Dirk’s sides and over his chest. “Yes, Shiva,” he purred, and moved in for to kiss him twice - smacking sounds for extra drunk and sloppy audio. His third kiss landed - just as sloppy - at the corner of Dirk’s mouth, and the fourth was preceded with a bite in the spot where his jaw became his chin. Jake’s teeth caught on Dirk’s way-past-five-o’clock stubble and his warm hands trailed down his sides before resting at the small of his back. With a predatory growl (and a small appreciative groan in reply) Jake leaned forward and with an aggressive opened-mouth kiss, brought Dirk onto his back on the bed. He was forceful enough to mean business (and Dirk’s cock was appreciating it), but that hand on his back to make sure he landed softly. He considered docking some points for that performance.
With Dirk lying prone Jake eagerly dragged his pants down from his hips, eyes on Dirk’s, and tossed them with a flutter to the floor. Before they even landed Jake crawled up to kiss Dirk again and shifted his hips to rub their cocks together. He groaned into Dirk’s mouth, and Dirk bit down on his lip, drawing blood. Jake groaned at that, too, kissed him with tongue and grinded against Dirk until he was dizzy. Dirk thought Jake might be happy just to hump him like that all night but Jake slid his right hand between them, squeezed their cocks together and pumped them both. Dirk choked down a moan while Jake hissed with pleasure, his hand ghosting over the tips of them while Jake’s forehead dropped to Dirk’s shoulder, holding himself up on his elbow. As much as he was enjoying himself, it would be a shame to stop there. Dirk took a handful of Jake’s hair and turned him to nip at his earlobe.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself, English,” he said, aware of how breathless he might sound.
Jake groaned, disappointed, and pumped the two of them one more time before using his right arm to hold him up instead. He shifted to run his left hand through Dirk’s hair - knocking his shades back onto the bed - and kissed him deeply. Jake tasted like paan and rum, and ground against him once, but he didn’t stay long. He drew sentimental kisses down Dirk’s neck, nipping at his collarbone and flicking his tongue against his nipple. His green eyes stayed up, watching to take in Dirk’s every reaction. Meeting his gaze, Dirk removed Jake’s glasses for him as he pinched Dirk’s nipple between his teeth.
No matter how often they went at it Jake treated sex like he treated most things - with an insatiable sense of adventure. He kissed and scratched and nibbled on every inch of Dirk’s body in order to discover what would make him groan. He would search whenever he had time, checking and double checking to see if there was anything he might have missed. Dirk propped himself up on his elbows as Jake dragged his thumbs slowly over the gritty blue streaks his hands had left on Dirk’s hips. He left a kiss in the dip where thigh became stomach. Kneeling between Dirk’s legs, hovering above his dick, Jake looked up to meet his eyes and dragged his nails down over Dirk’s hips and thighs. Dirk took a sharp breath and Jake smiled knowingly, fond, before moving down. He was certainly a doting and beloved devotee.
Jake kicked pillows off of the bed and onto the floor for space between Dirk’s legs before he wrapped one hand around the base of Dirk’s cock and wrapped his lips around the tip. Dirk bit his tongue to stay calm, keeping his hips still as Jake’s tongue prodded his hole, licking away any precum. Jake’s right hand held Dirk’s thigh, rubbing it sweetly with his thumb and feeling for Dirk’s tensing muscles. He watched and listened for any indication that he was doing it right. Half the game was not letting him know.
He didn’t stay there for long, but slowly licked up the tip and placed a kiss at the top before switching hands. Jake’s right hand pumped Dirk, slick with saliva, as his left reached to the bedstand for the bottle of lube they’d left there. Fallen on its’ side from previous nights’ “adventures”, Jake pulled it near using his fingertips until he could get a hold of it. His right hand stopped around Dirk who gets his attention with a “hey,” which is met with batting green eyes and an apologetic “oh!” He increased his rhythm for a moment, snapping the lid open on the lube bottle with his thumb. With a barely perceptible pause Jake dipped his head to take Dirk back into his mouth, sucking and bobbing down to take all he could while smearing his hands with lube.
Dirk struggled not to buck up into Jake’s mouth when one slick cold finger left a trail of lube at his ass, and again when it entered him. Jake’s eyes were up to watch him, wide with interest to read any signals Dirk might give him - any congratulatory cues. Jake sucked hard against him and dipped his finger in to the knuckle. Dirk’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment and his stomach swelled and emptied with breath. Jake licked all the way up his dick before swapping his mouth for his left hand, slick with lube, and worked a second finger into Dirk’s ass. With his mouth free he watched Dirk intently, probing around in his hole and fucking him with his hands. Dirk stared back at him, stoic, until Jake introduced a third finger, and his head tilted back. He breathed deep and Jake smiled, a little victory, and found his prostate.
Dirk groaned low and as soon as he did, Jake was on him. His left hand was off his dick and he wrapped his arm - his hand held away - around Dirk’s shoulders. His hand still deep in his ass Jake took Dirk’s mouth in his own and kissed him, eager and sloppy. “I love you,” he said against Dirk’s gasps and raised eyebrow. “I love when you do that. I love hearing you.”
“Getting sentimental, English,” Dirk muttered and choked off into a grunt as Jake’s fingers scissored inside him. “Fuck.”
Jake groaned alongside him, pressing his forehead against Dirk’s. “Yeah, like that.”
Dirk was fighting a losing battle against his composure, clutching at the blankets and bending his knees, squirming as Jake thrust his hand into him. Jake knew him too well. Knew exactly what he liked. Knew exactly how to bring his guard down and turn him into a whimpering slut. And Jake loved it, he loved to do it, the challenge of bringing him down every time.
Jake’s hand twisted and Dirk thrust back against it. With one hand Dirk scratched long, painful trails down Jake’s back. With his other he Jake’s hair and yanked his head to the side, biting hard at his neck and pulling possessive bruises to the surface. Dirk muffled his groans into Jake’s skin but every one that escaped was met with a mutual reply from Jake. He was getting off on getting Dirk off. He was perfect, and he belonged to Dirk. Dirk belonged to him.
Jake’s right hand shifted, removed from Dirk’s shoulders and he wiped the excess lube from his hands onto the blankets before slowly pulling his right out of Dirk’s ass. He barely had a moment to let out a warning growl before Jake took his shoulder and flipped him over, dropping him onto the bed on his stomach and pinning him there with a knee between his shoulder blades.
Cheek against the bedspread, Dirk waited, breathing heavy, as Jake picked his shirt up from the floor and tied his arms behind his back with it. Anticipation and helplessness ran chills all through him as Jake retrieved his glasses and Dirk’s shades and Dirk listened as he put them on the bedstand. It took him a month or so of quiet, of leading Jake along in bed with no indications of anything, for him to get to this point. Using a carrot and stick to train him Jake now knew just what Dirk wanted, and the carrot was just being able to see his boyfriend enjoy himself. It was in the sounds he offered when Jake did everything just right. Dirk would have liked to be gagged, too, but Jake would never sacrifice the sounds he made.
Dirk heard the cap of the lube snap open and a sigh as Jake probably jerked himself off a bit. Turning only earned him a look at his shoulder as he bent over to kiss the back of Dirk’s neck and shoulders.
“Roxy says you never let anyone do this,” Jake said, grinding, slick, against Dirk’s thighs and pulling him up a bit for easy access. He was eager to continue but knew well that the moments of anticipation were always deliciously intense. “She says it’s just me that you let do this to you.” Jake held his breath and pressed his dick, slippery with lube, into Dirk’s ass. A clipped groan escaped his throat and he shifted his shoulders, arms sore and folded behind him. Jake was breathing heavy as, with shallow thrusts, he pushed into Dirk until he was fully inside. Jake paused, to run his hands affectionately over Dirk’s thighs and along the blue streaks on his hips before pulling out and thrusting in again. He slowly worked up momentum, asking “is that true?”
The sensations of Jake pounding into him spilled over into Dirk’s brain and it took him a moment to regain his sense enough to reply. “Roxy’s not a liar,” he muttered, his level voice broken up with the timing of Jake’s thrusts.
When drifting between Roxy’s clubs he had frequently taken people with him behind corners, into dark closets or hotel rooms. When people looked at him as a bit of a hero or perhaps the anti-christ, someone who would save them from zombies and hypocrites, they weren’t the kind of people he wanted to beg to stick their dick up his ass. It was a matter of PR, of reputation. That Dirk Strider guy, head hunter, murderer, and cock slut.
Jake... he actually gave a shit about Jake. He wanted to keep Jake around for as long as he could. He wasn’t planning on letting him go.
“Why?” Jake asked, breathily, keeping his rhythm and groaning a bit. Dirk could barely hold back his groans himself. Jake’s dick filled him up and the friction ran streaks of pleasure up his spine, down his legs and right to his cock. He was helpless, tied, and being fucked in the ass. It was depraved, and the hottest thing that had ever happened to him. Precum dripped onto the blankets. When Jake rammed into him Dirk thrust idly forward into nothing at all, and pulled back to meet Jake.
“Dirk?” Jake spoke, pausing to kiss along Dirk’s spine. He ran his hands up over the blue grit on his waist and pulled Dirk back onto his dick, hitting him deep and inspiring an enthusiastic “fuck” and a groan.
“Jake,” Dirk moaned in reply. His toes twisted in the blankets as Jake thrust mindlessly into him, pulling Dirk onto him and off. Jake moved his hands for a better grip, grabbing Dirk’s ass and rolling it back and forth against his hips. “Fuck,” Dirk gasped, feeling the pressure build at the base of his spine. Jake slid in and out, hitting deep and forceful, each movement inching Dirk closer to the edge until he came suddenly, and with a shuddering moan under Jake. He panted into the blankets as Jake rammed him a few more times and shivvered, squeezing Dirk’s hips as he came inside him.
Jake bent with his head resting at the small of Dirk’s back, puffing cold breaths against his sweat-coated skin as he recovered. Dirk rolled his shoulders and stretched as best he could with his arms tied in place. Noticing his discomfort, Jake untied Dirk’s arms and slipped out of him with a sigh. He pulled Dirk back into a sitting position and the two men kicked the soiled blankets down onto the floor before retrieving the pillows. Dirk sat a moment, his legs folded lotus-style, and stretched his arms while Jake left stubble-scratchy kisses along his back and shoulders.
“We should get a shower,” Jake commented, ghosting his hands over the gritty blue paint streaks he’d left on Dirk’s hips.
“You’re not like them,” Dirk said.
“What?” Jake replied, resting his chin on Dirk’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around his waist. Jake was a cuddler.
“All of them,” Dirk said, gesturing vaguely toward the window, which revealed nothing but a black night with the reactors cold. “They’re fascinated by me. They practically worship me. Fuck knows they’ve every right to, I’m all they’ve got.” Jake snorted at that. “You were never intimidated. Just walked right up to me and asked to be partners. You’ve got a lot of nerve, Jake. I like that.”
He meant it but that was barely half of it. Jake was strong, competent, and in as many ways weary as he was naieve. He was interesting and he had secrets and layers. Dirk would keep him around as long as he could until he ran out of puzzles to solve about Jake English, and maybe after that. He might destroy anything else Jake could want to keep him near. Dirk couldn’t let his weaknesses get out - he couldn’t let Jake go. Dirk had never felt that way about anything.
“I can’t sleep when I’m sweating like a pig,” Jake said, unlatching his arms from Dirk’s waist and shuffling off of the bed and to his feet. He made his way to the bathroom in the dark, and Dirk moved to follow.