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Celebrating the new year feels kind of pointless after you have learned that the world is about to get taken over by fish alien Betty Crocker. Most likely not “about to” as in the next year to be fair, no, but still the threat looms over Dave’s head. Over everyone’s head really, even if they might not be aware yet.
Really, there’s much nicer thoughts to be had while your feet are dangling over the roof of a skyscraper. Not even a railing for safety, clearly this world has already gone to shit anyways. A massive illuminated clock down below shows that there’s only ten more minutes of this shitty year left before the next shitty year starts.
Cheers! Gonna drink to that, bro.
Dave is so busy doing just that that he hardly notices the soft footsteps approaching from behind him. Cheap beer has never tasted quite so cheap on his lips.
A soft “Yo.” startles Dave out of his depression session. When he looks up, his eyes meet triangular shades. Ah, it’s Dirk. The dude has some fucking ninja moves sneaking up on a poor motherfucker like that. You’d think after growing up with his older brother Dave would be used to this bullshit by now, but Dirk almost never failed to make an unsettling entrance. ‘Fuckass,’ Dave thinks fondly.
“Sup?” Dave answers with the fabled Strider conversation skills.
“Just wondering where my lil bro fucked off to during our new years party, nothing big. I’ll have you know you’re missing out on some supreme drunk Harleybert action. They're getting down on the dance floor.” Dirk joins Dave on the roof with yet another well practised ninja move. At least it feels like that to Dave’s tipsy brain though really, Dirk’s just sitting down on the cold ass concrete with him.
Dave finds himself falling against Dirk’s shoulder in a familiar gesture of seeking comfort before he can even attempt to stop it. If Dirk minds he sure doesn’t say so, instead pulling his brother into a half hug. “Aren’t you freezing your balls off up here, bro? ‘Cause I sure as fuck am and let me tell you, these crown jewels ain’t cheap.”
“That’s your attempt at cheering me up? Talking about your big fat nuts?” Dave snorts, so the attempt surely isn’t all in vain. “Besides, you are supposed to keep the boys cold, right? Helps preparing the lil’ swimmers for their dangerous journey into the uncharted vagina waters.”
“Dave, I don’t know how to tell you this, but neither of our swimmers are ever going to enter a vagina with the intention of making a little baby Strider,” Dirk says this in a grave voice, like he just told Dave some important secret about living with the Strider name.
“Hey, you don't know that. I think Jade is into me. She even said she wants to show me her frogs. That has to be some kind of euphemism, right?”
“Baby bro, it’s called compulsive heterosexuality and her crush on you is going to wilt and die like all the flowers she’s gifted to you. You’d think if she loves the damn things so much, she wouldn’t give them to you of all people.”
Does Dirk sound just a tad defensive or is that the alcohol and wishful thinking? It’s probably nothing.
“Hey now, you are just jealous that bitches are all over your little bro. You fucking wish you had my game. You wish you were me.” Dave’s words start to slur a bit so he takes another swig of his beer. That oughta help.
“First of all, I’m gay as hell so you can keep your bitches. Second of all, your so-called bitches are a girl you basically grew up with and our cousin. I don’t think your game is strong enough to really brag about that much, dude.”
“Maybe you’re right. Don’t even got a bitch to kiss on what might be our last new year for all we know.” Dave glances back at the clock. Three more minutes left in this year, 525600 left to go in the next. Sounds like a lot at first, but it also sounds like way too little to stop an ancient evil fish alien from her nefarious plans. Might be more minutes left to do that...Might be less.
When he looks back at Dirk, his brother is frowning, brows furrowed deep in thought. “So you were planning on spending your potentially last chance at a new year's kiss all on your own up on the roof? That sounds a lot more like something I would pull. Should I be worried?”
Dave barks a laugh. “God, that does sound like you. Suppose now it sounds like us. Just the Strider bros against the rest of the fuckin’ world. Maybe you should be my new year’s kiss.”
It’s a joke. It’s supposed to be, at least, but Dave’s cheeks heat up traitorously when the words leave his lips. Thankfully he has a good alibi for that with the beer and the cold. Wait, was Dirk this close before? Yeah, they had been sitting right next to each other, but suddenly Dave is so much more aware of how close their faces had become, of the way Dirk’s arm is holding him tight by now.
“Maybe,” Dirk whispers, cryptic as always.
Dave is about to reply - what he plans on saying, he isn't even sure - when the clock strikes midnight and the fireworks illuminate the sky with a crescendo of colors.
And then there are rough lips on his. A featherlight touch, but undeniably a kiss. It lasts only a second and when Dirk pulls away, Dave is sure that Dirk is blushing. Not that his own face is faring much better.
“You’re right, Dave. It’s us against the world. Always has been, always will be. But that’s not so bad, is it?”
Dave, always an expert at making a romantic moment better, replies, "You realize that kiss officially makes you my bitch. My new year's slut even."
Dirk groans, but there is a fond smile on his face despite that. "And here I was trying to make this shit at least a little romantic."
"Oh shit, sorry. Do go on. Woo me. Swoop me off my feet with your sick courting skills bro."
"Despite what a stupid fucking jackass you are, there is no one else I'd rather kiss at midnight."
Dirk actually looks genuinely embarrassed by now and Dave finally takes pity on him and reaches for his free hand. "You know, there's no one else I'd rather kiss either. Or face all the bullshit coming at us in the future with. We got this shit, right?"
"Right," Dirk nods.
It's weird how natural kissing his own brother feels, but Dave can't resist going for a kiss of his own when he sees Dirk's face illuminated by the fireworks around them. It has always been easy to be with Dirk, easier than with anyone else. Sure, loving your own brother like this may be fucked up, but is it really more fucked up than the impending Betty Crocker threat?
It feels good at least. It feels right.
This second kiss isn’t nearly as fleeting as the first and turns needy very quickly. Lips part for each other as a chaste kiss turns passionate and handholding soon doesn't feel like the best use of their hands.
When they finally pull apart, Dave is already busy getting his hands under Dirk's shirt, who once again shakes his damn head. "Bro, it's not like I don't approve of the heavy petting but maybe we should move this party to somewhere where we got solid ground under our feet? And a bed preferably."
"Right," Dave says lamely while he pulls his hand back, cheeks as red as his eyes. "Took you as a kinky ‘jizzing all over the city on the first date’ kinda guy, is all."
"Oh believe me, I am all sorts of kinky, but only after the third date like a proper fucking gentleman." Dirk’s face is flushed as well, but he is much better at at least appearing collected, that fucker.
The fucker gets up and offers his hand to Dave and okay, maybe he’s not just a fucker, maybe he is also really handsome. Maybe feeling his warm hand on his own makes Dave’s knees just a bit weak. It is absolutely Dirk’s fault that Dave stumbles right into his chest after getting up. Couldn’t be Dave wanting to be right there, inhaling Dirk’s scent. Nope.
“Woah there, dude, I didn’t realize you’re falling for me quite so literally.”
No, definitely a fucker after all.
Dirk gets a weak punch in the tit for his troubles, accentuated with a long suffering groan. “Really? We kiss once-”
“Twice actually,” Dirk helpfully interjects. “And you started the second one.”
“We kiss twice,” Dave puts extra emphasis on the word for dramatic effect. “And you go ahead and assume I’m so smitten with you that I forgot how to walk? Thinking rather highly of ourselves tonight, aren’t we? I’ll have you know I’m only smitten enough to half fall for you yet. You are gonna have to try harder. I’m not one of your easy playgirl boys.”
Dirk’s flush darkens just a bit at the mention of his softcore porn magazines (which Dave may have borrowed once or twice or often before) and for just a second the younger Strider thinks he has won this truly epic battle of wits before Dirk promptly lifts him up to carry him princess-style.
“How much are we falling for me now, my good bitch?”
There has to be some kind of rule against a single guy having such a handsome smug grin. If there isn’t one yet, Dave is going to establish the Dirk law soon. It will save millions of lives, and most of all his own ass.
“Ok, bonus points for the dirty talking. You did your homework, I’ll give you that. We’re a bit closer to swoon town, but it’s still a long way.”
“It’s actually a pretty short way to my bedroom, Dave.”
A pretty short way Dirk is apparently planning to carry him for. Oh great. Dave thinks for a moment that he should perhaps protest this a bit more. He can walk. He’s not nearly sloshed enough to have lost that ability so far. Getting carried around like a baby should be humiliating.
It isn’t, though. Instead, it’s warm and comforting and Dave wants to put his hands around Dirk’s neck, but he resists the urge. He won’t let Dirk win so easily. Win what exactly he isn’t even quite sure
“Swoonville isn’t a physical place, it’s a feeling. In your heart. Like the whole friendship crap from your pony show.”
“Thought it’s swoon town.”
“Metaphorical ‘feeling cities’ aren’t bound by one simple mortal name, fool.”
Dirk snorts, and by the time Dave has managed to stop staring at his brother’s lips he is already being greeted by one of Dirk’s horse posters. Where Dirk gets these cursed fucking things Dave isn’t sure, but it certainly serves as a great wake up call.
“So… Are we really gonna do this, dude? Are we gonna make this happen?”
“Continuing the smooch train? Sure we are, if you’re down.” Suddenly even Dirk seems a bit self-conscious. He sets Dave down on the bed, a lot more gently than Dave had expected, before sitting down next to his brother and clearing his throat awkwardly. “Unless you aren’t down, of course. That would be fine. We don’t gotta do anything, especially not when you aren’t 100% sober, dude. I mean hell, not that I didn’t drink any tonight so no judgement, just saying tha-”
Dave cuts the beginning of Dirk’s self-loathing spiral short by pulling him into the third kiss of the night. Good things come in threes and that rule seems to apply to kisses as well, as Dirk relaxes and melts against Dave’s lips. It’s not as short as their first, and not as needy as the second. Just two pairs of lips seeking some warmth and comfort in each other.
Dave almost doesn’t want to pull away, but he has to in order to speak.
“Listen man, it’s okay. I’m not drunk enough to forget about this by tomorrow or anything. I want this. I want you.”
It’s only by the time that the words slipped his lips that Dave realizes what he just said and how god damn cheesy it sounds, but Dirk’s smile makes him forget all about that. The guy looks genuinely smitten. Cheesy porn dialogue works. Write that one down, Dave.
“Fuck, how dare you say shit like that. I hope you know what this means, dude.”
It means Dirk’s lips against Dave’s own again apparently, but much needier this time. Dirk’s teeth tug at Dave’s lips and Dave is quick to accept the unspoken invitation to deepen the kiss. Their tongues don’t end up battling for dominance like in Dave’s secretly read fanfiction, but instead carefully map out each other, trying to see what makes the other tick.
Somewhere between more and more kisses, Dave's hands end up wandering under Dirk's shirt again, higher and higher until he finally brushes against a nipple which earns him a startled little moan. His brother has sensitive nips. Dave is going to store that information for later. ‘Later’ being when he isn't slowly but surely losing all higher brain functions because his dick wants to break free of his far, far too tight jeans.
"Not to kill the mood here too badly but if big D doesn’t get some fresh air soon, he's probably going to burst and then fall off and I'm 90% sure cocks don’t grow back like lizard tails."
"Big D, huh?" Dirk remarks before pulling away, his shirt still pulled up and exposing his hard nipples. Dave feels proud of his handiwork. "I thought I'm the big D in this relationship."
"Well whip 'em out and let's see who the true and honest winner of the title of big D is."
"Oh, it's on, little bro."
Dirk gets up from the bed and Dave is pleased to see the noticeable bulge in his pants. Thank god he's not just being an overexcited virgin over here. For a moment he gets lost staring when Dirk pulls his shirt over his head, exposing more skin - a sight he already knows but not in this context - before he notices Dirk looking at him expectantly with a smug little smile on his face.
Right. He was the one who wanted to get naked. And compare cocks. Normal brotherly activities.
Dave makes a point out of not staring at Dirk anymore when he gets up to fiddle with his own clothes, making the bold move to remove his pants and boxers in one quick motion before his shirt joins the little clothing pile. In his head, his cock made a little cartoon boing noise at being freed.
When he turns around, Dirk is fully naked as well, his clothes neatly folded as if Dave somehow shouldn’t know that Dirk, too, usually leaves his clothes on the floor wherever he stands. But the state of Dirk’s pants hardly matters.
What matters is his big brother standing in front of him, naked and very much erect. He had tried not to stare too much earlier, but he catches himself licking his lips absentmindedly while admiring Dirk's hard on.
"So," he starts without taking his eyes off the prize. "How do we do this? Do we get a ruler or…"
"I had a more hands on approach in mind," Dirk says and Dave thinks, 'Yeah, me too buddy.'
"Lie down on the bed for me, okay?"
Dave would do just about anything Dirk asked of him right now as long as it meant his dick would get some attention. He lays down like a good boy, feeling more exposed than ever in his life but surprisingly in a good way. He trusts Dirk with his life, he trusts Dirk with his cock. It makes perfect sense to Dave.
"Please be gentle, big brother," he says in his best anime girl impression. "It's my first time."
Dirk rolls his eyes, now for the whole world to see without his shades. Just that the whole world is only Dave.
"I know it is," Dirk admits and ruins Dave's carefully crafted attempt at easing his nerves with a joke in one fell swoop. "You’re still sure about this, right?"
"Dude, I'm lying in your bed, rock hard and desperate to get some action. My cock has never been so sure of something and I'm right here with him. Please ravish me, big bro. Show me how it’s done. Teach me about the birds and the bees. Fuck me, please."
Dirk looks like he wants to say something for just a moment, but instead he finally joins Dave on the bed. He carefully crawls on top of Dave and pulls him into a soft kiss that Dave rudely interrupts with a desperate little whine when he feels his dick press against Dirk’s warm body.
"I'm going to make sure you have a good time tonight, Dave." Dirk looks right into his eyes and his gaze is so earnest, it makes Dave’s heart do a funny little thing.
"I know you will. But that doesn't answer the pressing question of the night: Which Strider brother has the fattest schlong?"
Dave’s one and only true talent is to destroy tender moments. Thankfully, Dirk doesn’t seem to mind since he presses a quick kiss on Dave’s lips before sitting up a little.
"Let's find out."
Nothing in this world could have prepared Dave for the feeling of Dirk pressing his dick against his. He whines loudly at the unfamiliar warmth against his member while Dirk… frowns?
"...You weren't fucking lying about big D," he mumbles.
"Wait… You mean… I won the literal dick measuring contest?"
"...Yes," comes the reluctant answer.
Dave can't help himself. He laughs, soft and bubbly, high on his first sexual encounter and maybe some gushy feelings. And, of course, drunk on cock power.
"Scoot over, Dirky, I'm the big brother now."
Dave could swear that Dirk was pouting, but before he could comment on that, Dirk starts to stroke both of their dicks and all that leaves Dave's mouth is a startled moan.
"It may be a cliché to say but size isn’t everything, Davey." Dirk spits in his hand and starts rubbing their now lubed-up cocks together in earnest.
Dave is pretty damn sure he is seeing stars. Anything getting even close to resembling a witty remark leaves his body along with desperate little whines.
"You see," Dirk cuts himself off with a moan of his own. "I'm a bit of a cock pro."
“N-No shit, dude,” Dave stutters between muttered curses. “You worked in porn before or somethin’? Cuz this is… fuuuuck! This is real good shit.”
Dirk is smirking down at Dave’s flushed face, obviously more than just a little pleased with his handiwork, but it’s obvious this is affecting him as well. He is nowhere near as vocal as Dave, but a few moans do slip when he rubs them together just right. He licks his lips hungrily while taking all of Dave in, as if to commit it to memory. Knowing Dirk, he might just be making some creepy brain memory save of this and that thought shouldn’t make Dave moan again but damn it, it does.
“You know,” Dirk says, and he has absolutely no business sounding so casual when he rubs both of their pre-cum all over their cocks. “You can cum whenever you want. We can always go for another round or two.”
“Pretty bold of you to assume that I get to decide when I blow my load,” Dave shoots back.
Dirk squeezes their dicks together in reply. “You’re right. I decide that and I give you permission to, Davey.”
The combination of those words together with the cutesy name should not be what pushes him over the edge. It would be really embarrassing to blow his load over the idea of his brother allowing him to, over the idea that he could deny him but won’t. Not today at least.
But that is exactly what he does and this time, he is sure that he is, in fact, seeing stars. For a split second he thinks that he passed out until he opens his eyes back up to Dirk’s satisfied little grin and a stomach covered in cum. Yeah, definitely kind of embarrassing.
“In my defense, I had basically no chance against a seasoned cock veteran in this battle of wills. My poor meat didn’t stand a chance against you. Plus, you play dirty.”
“I don’t play dirty, I play to win,” Dirk says and as ridiculous as the concept of winning sex is, Dave knows exactly that’s what Dirk means. The thought makes his spent cock twitch just a little.
“Looks like you didn’t win just yet though,” Dave comments with a look at Dirk’s still very much unspent dick.
“That’s because the game isn’t over yet.” Dirk gives Dave’s cock an experimental stroke and earns an almost pained little whine in return, but little Dave twitches with interest. “I’m sure you have a round two in you. Especially when I tell you that I want you to fuck me.”
That certainly gets Dave’s attention, the big one’s and the little one’s.
“Woah, okay, let’s slow down for a sec. You mean you saw the glorious stridinator,” Dave gestures at his penis, “and now you just have to have this fat juicy meat inside you. Am I reading this situation right, Dirk? May I add: You little slut.”
“You are spot on and dirty talking me only makes me want you more.” Dirk licks his lips and Dave’s cock gives another traitorous twitch. Having an attractive, more experienced older brother just isn’t even fair. While Dave is busy with his crisis over his hot brother, the slut in question reaches over to his nightstand and gets a bottle out. Dave gulps when he realizes what it is: Lube.
“How about your whore brother giving you a little show?” Dirk says while he applies a very generous amount of lube to his fingers.
“Hey now, you ain’t no whore. Mostly because I’m broke so I won’t be paying you. Not that being a whore would be a bad thing. Neither is being a slut. Personally I’d even consider myself to be a bit of a feminist, so naturally those terms are-”
Dave’s stupid rambles are rudely interrupted when Dirk reaches behind himself and inserts a finger with a wet sound that may just be the dirtiest thing Dave ever heard, followed by a little content sigh. Fuck.
“Th-those… That’s.. bad. Yeah. Unlike you, who’s uh. Being real good and shit? Good boy?”
Dirk snorts a little despite both himself and the fingers in his ass. “Am I being a good boy for daddy and his huge cock?”
“Y-Yeah. Yeah. Excellent, even. A solid 69 out of 10 on the good slut scale, I’d say. Maybe even more, can you imagine?”
“Wow,” Dirk deadpans, “How high would you even have to be to be that slutty?”
“420,” Dave says without missing a beat.
“Blaze it,” Dirk says and starts working those fingers inside himself in earnest with a little moan.
Dave’s dick is back in action somehow. Even with the world’s worst dirty talk, no one could take in this sight without getting hard, least of all Dave ‘apparently a brotherfucker’ Strider.
Dirk grins down at Dave’s second hard-on of the night proudly while Dave is fixated on the way Dirk’s cock bounces up and down with each thrust of his fingers. And the noises, god. The slick noises Dirk is making are positively obscene.
“Are you ready for me, Dave?”
“God, yes, please. I want you so bad, Dirk. Fuck.”
Dave isn’t above begging at this point. He is pretty sure if he doesn’t get to fuck Dirk, he is going to burst like a balloon full of cum.That metaphor is just a bit too on the nose but it is fitting anyways.
Dirk removes his fingers with a wet pop and carelessly wipes them off on the bed before getting the lube again. “That’s what I was hoping you would say. I can’t wait any longer.”
The motions Dirk uses to apply the lube to Dave’s cock make it seem like he has done this a million times, and perhaps he has. Dave knows Dirk has had boyfriends before. He is sure he has fucked them too, at least according to the noises he would shamefully jerk it to at night.
Fuck, that train of thought isn’t helping with not cumming before Dirk even gets on him.
Thankfully Dirk has no intentions of dragging this on. Instead he quickly lines himself up with Dave’s lubed-up cock. Before he actually pushes any further, however, he gives Dave another of those intense looks.
“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good, yeah?”
Always the concerned older brother. Dave simply nods, too preoccupied by feeling Dirk’s warmth so fucking close to his cock to string together coherent words.
And then Dirk starts sinking down on him, almost painfully slowly. While Dave felt nervous before, these feelings quickly fade into nothing along with everything else around him as he gets engulfed by Dirk fully. When Dirk starts slowly rocking down on him Dave is reduced to little moans and breathy ‘Oh fuck’s.
It feels like he is getting lost, but not in a bad way. Dirk’s hands find his and their fingers entwine and Dave knows he may be lost in this new feeling, but he’s not alone. He’s never been alone. It has always been the two of them and now, finally, they are becoming one like this. It just feels right.
The rest of it is mostly a blur of emotions and images to Dave.
He feels warm. Dirk’s flushed face is moaning. His heart feels full. Dirk’s lips are on his. He loves Dirk. His hands on Dirk’s hips as he slams down onto him, whining his name.
Dave doesn’t really remember when he came but he remembers Dirk sitting on him and jerking off, Dirk’s warm cum on his stomach.
He remembers Dirk getting up to get them tissues and cleaning them up.
Dirk pulling a blanket over them and holding him close.
"I love you."
Dave hasn't said it this openly since he was six but it's still just as true.
"I love you too," Dirk says and kisses his forehead gently. "I got your back, Dave. Always. It's us against the world and we ain’t going down without a fight."
In that moment Dave knows it doesn’t matter what horrors lie before them. Dirk will be there to face them with him.