Clot, Cure

by davecest, juniiperberries

Summary:

Captured by the enemy, political activist and combatant David Strider has been kept by Her Imperious Condescension as a prisoner of war, his brutal treatment broadcast to the world at large. Years later, Dirk rescues him, and nurses him back to health.

𝄋 "Rape/Non-Con" tags do not refer to the tagged pairings.

Notes:

if fandom were a banquet and works were cake: davecest and i have shown up to the function bearing this lopsided masterpiece, with as many flavors, fillings, tiers, and questionable icing practices as our little sweet tooths desire, with no regard for critical reception and every effort into our personal tastes. at no point in the progression of this RP did i think it'd be publicly uploaded. so while you read, take care to note that you've been shared a piece of our weird and awesome cake, and davecest and i are taking our dessert-smeared faces to the kitchen to whip up another layer to slap on top of the others. enjoy!

Chapter 1: Rescue, Escape

At this point, David barely remembers the day he was captured. It was supposed to be a big triumph for the rebels, a real punch in the Batterwitch's face, but then everything got flipped, turned upside down... And he found himself collared like a pet when he next woke up.

This wasn't supposed to happen. When Rosalind talked about seeing him die in her visions, he had always assumed it would be a heroic, just death. There is nothing heroic about this.

David has lost his sense of time a long time ago. He sometimes wonders how long he's been stuck like this, left to lick his wounds in the dark until Her Imperious Condescension felt it was play time for him again. It could be months, maybe even years.

At least she hasn't been broadcasting any of the shit she has been doing in a while. The idea of Dirk watching his big brother like this, helpless, pathetic and weak... It makes David want to puke all over again. That is, if there was anything left to puke up.

He has died a few times in his time here, that much he knows. She has brought him back each time, proclaiming that he was too special of a trophy to let go of so soon. It's been a long time since he was allowed to wear anything besides this goddamn collar, too. At one point they stopped bothering with restraints, at least, after he was so well broken that he could barely stand on his own, let alone put up a fight against a whole army of trolls.

No, his only hope was the rest of the rebels. Dirk.

He's not sure if he's sane anymore, but the thought of his little brother soothes him at least some. Dirk is still out there. Dirk isn't here with him, he's outside, safe. Probably stubbornly looking for his big brother. If anyone could solve this, it would be Dirk and his friends. They would pick up where he failed.

Distantly, he wonders if Dirk saw the gruesome torture porn starring him in the main role. If he heard David whimpering his name. Delirious promises of love and safety between beatings and electrocutions.

It's okay. As long as Dirk is out there, it's okay.

And then, just as suddenly as he had found himself in here, what he has been dreaming of this whole time happens. Suddenly, light illuminates his cell, and he blinks in pain as it meets his unprotected, sensitive eyes. It's not a troll standing over him, though.

It's a boy. Blonde hair, katana in hand, stylish anime shades on his nose...

It's his boy. Grown up for sure, but still so very obviously Dirk. This time it's not a dream. This time it feels real, tangible. His boy looks beat up, sword sprinkled in various colors of the rainbow, exhausted and vulnerable unlike the angelic figure featured in his fantasies. Real.

"Dirk..!" he croaks out, voice raw. He reaches out for his little brother, his savior, momentarily uncaring for the pathetic sight he must be.

 

Dirk drops his bloodied sword and swoops down to embrace his naked brother, nearly toppling him over in his haste to kneel, to gather David to him and hold him close. David is nothing so much as frail, little but a skeleton in a thin wrap of skin, but Dirk doesn't have the heart to treat him gently. He crushes his brother against his body in a bruising hug, buries his face in the crook of his neck where the collar doesn't constrict, breathes in one desperate gulping breath of his scent and exhales in something worshipful, like a sob.

It's been five years.

"David," Dirk nearly whispers, feeling up and down his brother, his back and sides, the ridges of his ribs and the knobs of his spine. He's so small, now, like this, emaciated and curled up on the floor. Dirk knows from watching the broadcasts that he can't walk. He didn't know that he'd be broader than him, like this.

He kisses his brother's neck, right under the Batterwitch's vile collar, the one Dirk has spent hours and hours wishing he could cleave off with his sword, poring over footage. Like most native troll technology, it's a quasi-living thing, insectoid: covered in shiny black-purple armadillo plating, like a millipede or isopod, it fuses itself to David's skin; across it, it's lined with pluggable nodes, glowing a green a sickly shade off from sopor slime, and in the back of it are wires— or perhaps tubes— grafted onto it, extending to twist around each other like a Ridley Scott version of RCA cables, extending into the wall, the living cartilage of the prison.

For all it might be an alien itself, Dirk can't just cut into it — who knows what sort of foul poison it might spew into David, like a tick vomiting its guts into its host. Instead, Dirk strokes up David's trembling back, his lips ghosting over his too-sharp jaw — using a bit of sleight of hand to produce the bug Roxy and Kanaya had procured for this purpose. It's a long, keen thing, red at one end and blue at the other — it doesn't take much guidance from Dirk to start burrowing into one of the nodes.

At first, the collarbug seems to respond well, giving an affirmative pulse of light - until it suddenly shudders, and starts to writhe, hissing like a cockroach. Dirk holds David's head to him, shushing his brother and attempting to distract him with kisses as the collarbug gives a final, grotesque lurch— and relaxes, leaving a fault where Dirk can dig his fingers in, start to pry it apart...

"This'll hurt, David," he warns, his tone not quite regretful but still soft, as kind as he can make it.

Dirk can't just rip the thing off, but once he starts to pull it apart he doesn't stop. He digs his fingers under the collar and lifts, revealing the horrible scene: countless little translucent tubes embedded in David's neck from the collar's belly, coated in thick, clear mucus; the further Dirk pulls it from him, the longer the tubes seem to extend, leaking more blood the farther they're extracted. There is, at least, not that much bleeding at all, only enough to color the mucous sickening swirls of pink and red.

It feels like another five years before Dirk can get the whole thing out, tendrils and all. Its tubes— for feeding and drugging David, the rescue team surmised— dangle limply like a colossal gored jellyfish, dripping slime and blood; it must have been buried more than a foot inside of David, nourishing him, poisoning him.

 

Dirk throws it across the cell with extreme prejudice, where it splats, dead. He kisses the slimy, marred skin where it once was, feels David's rabbit pulse swim under his lips.

"Can you hold on to me, bro? Kangaroo style," Dirk says, speaking into David's ear. He gathers David against him by the bony rump, squats under him and guides his legs around Dirk's hips.

They're getting out of here together.

 

David's world is reduced to a single thought: Dirk.

He tries his best to hold onto him, touch him, breathe in his scent and forget where they are. It's Dirk, his brother is here, he came. It's over. Finally, finally it's over. "Dirk," he whimpers, voice embarrassingly weak. Anyone else he'd want to hide away from, hide his shame, his weakness. Not Dirk though, never Dirk. He trusts his little brother unconditionally.

Even when Dirk fumbles with his collar and tells him it's going to hurt, he trusts him. He nods weakly, steels himself against what's to come. Dirk pulls and pulls and it hurts like he is pulling apart his very insides. Faintly, David thinks that he is, that there's no way that this thing didn't leave internal damage. It's worth it, though, he would dig out his insides himself if it meant to be free of Her influence.

He doesn't scream or cry.

And then there's Dirk again, holding him, kissing him. It's okay, it hurts, but it's okay now. He clings onto Dirk without having to be told and nods. There's not much strength left in his body, but it's enough to hold on. He takes a big shaky breath, almost a cry but not quite, and whispers to Dirk, "Thank you."

It's okay now. They're together, and nothing can pull them apart again.

 

David's voice is so pitiful and weak that Dirk just wants to sit here with him and rock him like a child, like their ages are reversed, Dirk the elder and David the junior— but they have to leave. The Helmsman of this battleship has been compromised, and Dirk has no idea how long the alien contacts on their side will be able to continue to steer him — Her Imperious Condescension herself is occupied elsewhere, and Dirk is happy enough to let her be Team Lalonde's problem while he blows it the fuck out of here.

"Don't mention it, Bro," Dirk murmurs back to him, picking David up almost effortlessly into his arms. As tall as David has always been, he's so light that Dirk can just prop him on a hip while he retrieves his rainbow-slick sword, sheathing it to the scabbard on his back.

Fuck it. He's already killed most of the goons on this ship. If anyone else gives him trouble, he's footing it and calling for English.

"Bumpy ride," he says, "hold on."

Dirk doesn't waste time. He's swift out the door, David bouncing in his hold — Dirk tries to keep his strides smooth as he navigates the labyrinthine corridors, just so as to not jostle David more than necessary. He dodges multicolored blood puddles and leaps over bodies and their dismembered pieces like a deer, or perhaps, a very graceful and well-trained show pony.

The sight of these halls is macabre and horrifying, a murderous gorefest, a downright corpse party — blood splattered on the walls, corpses mutilated, beaten and sliced and disemboweled. Dirk will recall the image of it later and feel a visceral, victorious satisfaction, knowing he's avenged his brother.

He's climbing the steps to the top deck when the ship suddenly groans and trembles underneath him like a great big ghost — Dirk only grips his brother tighter and keeps moving, more mindful of his steps, making more effort to ground himself instead of being fleet-footed. There's a swooping feeling in his chest, and the ship screeches, tips forward—

Like they're sinking—

There's nothing propelling the ship anymore — the sudden absence of psiionic energy is like a deafening silence, like being plunged in dark water, a screaming sensory deprivation where a backdrop of noise once was. The bubble of static energy pops, and every hair that was on end on Dirk's body suddenly falls flat.

The Helmsman is dead.

Dirk kicks the door to the deck open and immediately scans the floor for— there it is, his rocketboard, painted in unmistakably sick orange flames. It's tipped over from where it was propped, and skidding down the platform, to the bow of the ship— where it's going to fall off, thousands of feet below, leaving them stranded—

Dirk tears after it, even as the ship's nose tips further and further down. The angle lets him sprint in great bounds, and he's almost to the very end, the rocketboard almost in reach, swaying off the edge—

It falls, just out of sight.

Dirk doesn't stop. The ship is sinking. If he doesn't make this, they'll both die— he plants a foot on the very end of the bow and uses it to spring forward, lunging midair.

 

There's a heart-stopping second of free-fall— Dirk grits his teeth and holds on to David in a way that'll definitely bruise, if they survive, the frigid high-altitude wind scraping its teeth against Dirk's face. The rocketboard is right there, just below them, all he has to do is—

—Catch it, slamming on it with flat feet, bending his knees to mitigate the shock. Dirk jams his heel into a rear panel, and the rocketboard roars to life, heat at his back, the wicked, thrilling propulsion of this frankly awful garage-cobbled device.

Why the fuck did he bring this thing for a rescue mission? He should've asked English for an air cruiser, fuck.

"Major Tom to ground control," Dirk calls out, switching on the comms in his shades. The world below is rapidly growing in size as he hurtles towards it, little ant-sized buildings growing in definition to things more like caterpillars. Dirk doesn't want to figure out a route when they're on their way to being giant water bug sized. "Where's the best hospital from here, Hal?"

Red text appears on his HUD.

Holy shit, you got him?

"Sure fuckin' did. Approaching terminal velocity here, man, hurry the fuck up before I plug this shit into Google Maps."

No need to make empty threats, bromeo. Google'd route you directly into a traffic jam in a street with the most billboard ads in the city. The recommended nearest hospital that isn't within the calculated tidal wave distance from that massive fucking ship crashing into the ocean is...

Hal rattles off the coordinates, and Dirk swerves his board in the right direction, shooting off through the sky.

 

Everything that happens is a blur to David. He holds onto Dirk as tight as he can manage, trying his best to only think about Dirk's scent and nothing else. Faintly, he can smell the coppery aroma of blood, and when he catches a quick glance at the ships corridors smeared in the colors of the rainbow, pride swells in his chest. Dirk did that. His boy did that, for him no less.

He is blissfully unaware of the daring jump Dirk has to take to save their asses, only aware of the cold air touching naked skin. It's fucking cold and he is delighted. It's been so long since he has known the luxury of fresh air. While Dirk discusses the route with whoever Hal may be, laughter starts to bubble up in his throat.

David is shaking like a leaf in Dirk's grasp, but it's not from fear. This is real. He is free. He is free and out of the fucking ship and most importantly, he is reunited with Dirk.

He has no idea how long they stay like this, hugging close in the air, David delirious rambling about how much he loves Dirk, missed Dirk, how proud he is. His voice may be weak from exhaustion and disuse but he knows Dirk is listening. He always is.

Eventually, they reach their destination, and David knows he needs a hospital. He knows this, but his animal instincts tell him to keep clinging to Dirk where it's safe, unwilling to let himself be handled by anyone else. When he doesn't stop struggling against the unfamiliar hands, they end up sedating him to prevent any further injury. It's a blessing, really.

David sleeps through the treatments, through the insertion of new tubes, helping with the malnutrition. It takes over a day for him to open his eyes again, tired and disoriented. Wary eyes dart through the room, obviously on the verge of a panic attack already.

This isn't his cell. He is warm, and it's soft and comfortable. A blanket. He hasn't had a blanket in years. The room is mostly white and entirely unfamiliar except for the boy sitting at his side, holding his hand.

Dirk.

Dirk is here, his warm hand in David's clammy one. Dirk. Dirk saved him, it was real. He's out. He's free.

Dirk is here.

His world quickly narrows down to just that: Dirk is here, he's real, he's touching him. Someone is saying something, but he can't make out the words. He squeezes Dirk's hand as tight as he can manage, a smile on his face despite everything.

"I knew you'd come."

Chapter 2: Collapse, Convalesce

Summary:

Dirk takes David to a hospital. Things get a little gay, but like, it's fine.

Notes:

the name of the RP channel we wrote this in is "codependent-alphacest-fun" lol

Dirk jerks awake — if not quite from sleep, then at least some serious spacing out. He's been slumped over David's bedside, replaying his big brother's words in his head, over and over, creaky and real — lost in the perfect, blissful loop of it, only aided by the warmth of David's hand in his, the soothing rhythm of his breathing.

David looks the smallest he's ever been, in his hospital bed, covered in as many extra blankets that Dirk could wheedle out of the staff, with who knows how many tubes stuck in him — this time, at least, just medical plastic and silicone, nothing alive. His neck is covered in bandages, with multiple drainage tubes taped underneath; there's an NG tube gone up his nose — an ultrasound confirmed he'd need assistance and a liquid diet for a while; wires to an electrocardiogram under his hospital gown; an IV on his hand, dripping medicine into his blood; more shit that Dirk dissociated through the explanation of, but that he's sure Hal recorded.

Dirk squeezes David's hand as he looks at him now, tiny and vulnerable and perfectly, beautifully alive. "Always planned to," he says, in little but a mutter, like if he raises his voice then David will shatter like a wine glass. "Never gave up on you, Bro."

The nurse in the room notices David is awake, and bustles about to get the doctor. Dirk doesn't pay them any mind — just keeps staring at his brother.

"You're gonna be here for a while. You need treatment," Dirk explains in a gentle voice, bringing David's bony hand up to his face to nuzzle. "But I'll be here. And I'll take you home as soon as I can. It's the same as how you left it."

He presses a kiss, reverent, to that hand, cradles it in his like a holy artifact.

 

A hospital, of course. That makes sense, even if he hates the thought of it. Strangers seeing him like this makes his stomach churn, but there's nothing in there yet anyways. David reminds himself that it's okay, that Dirk is going to be here.

Dirk's cheek is so wonderfully warm and solid and real. His lips, so soft and gentle. David closes his eyes for a moment, just concentrating on the warmth all around him. He feels tired. So, so tired, but to feel tired is to be alive. He hasn't felt alive in a long time.

He nods before he speaks up again.

"Dirk. I love you."

Red eyes search for orange ones. This is important. He's wanted to tell Dirk that for so long. This love was all that kept him sane, helped him through everything no matter how cruel.

"I love you, I love you, I love you so much." Talking is hard right now, and sleep is already dragging its claws into him, but this needs to be said, again and again.

"Won't ever leave you again. I'm so sorry, Dirk. Must've been so hard..."

The thought of Dirk, so small back then, all alone, breaks his heart all over again. He knows his friends must have taken care of him, but that's not the same. Tears are stinging his eyes and David is too tired to bother holding them back.

The smile returns to his lips even through the tears. This isn't a sad day.

He brings his hand up to Dirk's face again, caresses his cheek with hands that barely feel like his own anymore. But he can feel Dirk with them, buzzing with warmth and adoration.

"I'm so proud of you."

The doctor's rush in and ruin the moment but David lets them, content that he's said what's most important. He is asked a bunch of questions, half of which he can't answer, and told a bunch of information about his own condition that he is barely listening to. His eyes keep darting to Dirk instead.

 

Dirk holds on to those words like a spidersilk thread to salvation, helplessly clutching David's hand. He wants to cry, hearing it, or scream, or leap with joy, or start eating his own hand like a caged animal. He's robbed of any sort of crazed action or reply when the doctor comes, and he half-listens, pipes up with an answer to relevant questions, takes comfort in the fact that Hal is there in his shades— clipped to his shirt— recording everything, being present where he can't.

Dirk just can't stop looking at David. He hasn't seen him smile in years.

David's knowledge of the current date comes up, which is nonexistent — but it's not a surprise to anyone in the room. The whole world knows of David's captivity, and Dirk himself specifically knows that his jailers hadn't kept him abreast with anything to do with the outside world. He gives the year and month to David — there's no use worrying about the day, when he knows they'll blend in inpatient.

"I'm fifteen," he supplies. "And you're thirty-four."

He'll dripfeed more information later — saving the most pertinent thing of all for when David doesn't look quite so much like he's going to pass the fuck out.

The doctor excuses himself, promises he'll order more tests, bring in specialists, and keep David under observation — Dirk just coolly nods and waits for him to leave, the lights turning down on his way out.

He looks at David, considers how small he looks in this big VIP bed - and decides, fuck it. "Hey, bro, scoot over," Dirk demands, already getting up and toeing off his shoes. He pulls the thick layers of blankets open and starts climbing in next to David, careful not to jostle his tubes too much — nor his own stitches under his clothes.

It's lucky that Dirk isn't much of a big guy, either, all thin and lanky and not his full height yet. He tucks up the blankets over them both, snuggles close to his brother, their breaths mingling. Dirk coaxes one of David's legs to hook over his, and secures a protective arm over his waist.

"Go to sleep, David," Dirk whispers, a tremulous edge to his voice, like the emotion in his body is squeezing him under so much pressure his heart is turning to diamond. "I'll be here. I love you. I love you, bro."

I love you, I love you, I love you…

 

Five years. He lost five years to the Batterwitch.

David isn’t sure if it's more or less than he expected. He knew it was long. Dirk has grown up quite a bit, so he isn't taken entirely by surprise. His baby has grown up well even without him, turned into a handsome young man. David's heart aches for all the milestones in Dirk’s life he has missed.

The rest of the talk is a blur to him, just silently nodding along as if he is hearing a single word. All he can think of is Dirk, only ten, having to sleep without his brother there to tuck him in. He must have been lonely, scared. He must have learned to live without David.

His heart goes ice cold with dread when he considers that Dirk might not need him anymore.

But that can't be true. Dirk came for him. Dirk is here right now. Dirk loves him, that must mean he still needs his brother as well.

He is glad when the doctors take their leave and it's just them. He feels more like himself when it’s just them. More alive.

All the dread he has been feeling fades away into nothing when Dirk climbs into bed with him, holds him close. Dirk loves him. He loves him, he needs him, he won't leave.

David closes the gap between their faces without thinking and presses a kiss on those soft lips. It's the easiest way to express all the love and gratitude he is feeling.

Selfishly, he hopes it’s Dirk's first.

"Love you," he whispers against Dirk’s lips. He only barely pulls away before his eyes close, feeling the exhaustion in his very bones. Dirk will keep him safe while he rests, he knows.

It doesn't take long until sleep claims him.

 

A blush explodes on Dirk's cheeks, even as exhausted and wrung-out as he is. It is his first kiss. Spending every day since he was ten getting stronger, smarter, good enough to start tracking David down, and then devoting nearly all his time to do so — it didn't lend itself to healthy romantic interest in his peers. He had shit to do.

It's nice. It's perfect, to have David kiss him, present and real. "Love you too, bro," Dirk murmurs, "Welcome back."

He watches David slip off to sleep, peaceful and at rest, at last, at last. Dirk, as gently as he's ever moved, leans in to kiss David's sleeping lips again, feel his chapped warmth on his mouth again for just a moment more...

He closes his eyes next to David, and tries to get some rest.

 

Nurses keep flowing in and out of the room, taking David's vitals every few hours, which makes it hard to sleep — for Dirk and not David, who seems to be out like a light, nestled comfortably against Dirk's body. He doesn't even react to the blood pressure cuff, and Dirk attributes that to the post-operative painkillers he's on, as well as the general exhaustion. They take some blood samples, too, and Dirk wants to scream at them for it, even though he knows it's necessary. That's David's blood, his precious, perfect blood, he's anemic as shit, he needs it...

But Dirk doesn't really know shit about medicine, and he's only fifteen, so there's nothing he can do about it except hold David closer, help him get a little warmer.

Rosalind Lalonde herself pages Dirk directly, which he only sees due to Hal flashing at him obnoxiously from the tray table. She says she'll be by this afternoon, if David is awake, and Dirk just replies saying he'll let her know.

 

Roxy, on the other hand, bless her beautiful, sparkling soul, has been blowing up his inbox, and Dirk sends her a brief reply telling her that everything is going alright with him and David and that he's going to crush her in a trash compactor hug the next time he sees her. He shoots a couple short messages to Jane and Jake, too, and then he's discarding his shades on the table again, back to snuggling David. He'll let Hal take care of the rest.

At some point David's main nurse comes in with some supplies to give David a sponge bath, and with a kindly, fatherly manner, gives Dirk a verbal walkthrough on how to give him one, explaining that even if David is mobile, he'll need to be washed in bed to prevent water from getting on any of his wounds and equipment. He leaves a wheelchair, too, for David's use, and explains that he'll be back later to change the dressings on David's neck. Dirk sort of meekly thanks him before he leaves, reminded very strongly of Jane's dad.

Hours later, late morning filtering in through the shaded windows, Dirk catches David's eyelids moving, slowly waking up. Without thinking too much about it, he leans in to kiss one, sweetly loving.

 

David is warm and comfortable. There is a warm body next to him, touching him, a soothing presence that he feels is extremely important. He squeezes the hand holding his, testing if it will stay. It does.

Slowly, he blinks awake, and finds himself in the same hospital room, Dirk by his side just like he had promised. It's all real. He smiles at Dirk and pulls him closer, breathing in his scent, making sure he's real and solid.

"Hey," he says weakly. "You come here often?"

 

David waking up is like an angel being born, a wondrous, beautiful miracle. Dirk gets pulled close enough for their noses to brush, and he already knows that he can't give this up when they're back home again. He'll make up some excuse for David to let him stay in his bed — nightmares, object impermanence, whatever. He needs David to be the first thing he sees when he wakes up, the last when he falls asleep.

Dirk decides not to bring up Rosalind for right now. No doubt David will be ecstatic to reunite with one of his very best friends, but— Dirk wants his sole attention for a little longer. "Hey," he says back, breathing in David's air and thanking the universe for it. "Only when my big brother is here to chaperone. Do all my first aid at home, otherwise."

Dirk wishes that David could just. Lie on top of him. Compress him enough so that they're bonded permanently to each other somehow. He wants to kiss his neck again. His lips, too. "I have to give you a bath in bed, whenever you're ready, bro," Dirk informs him, nuzzling his pointy nose to David's gaunt cheek. "I'll just tell a nurse and lock the door. You need to whizz first? They gave us a wheelchair for you. I'll help you."

 

"Mmm, good choice. Never liked hospitals much." It's true, he has always preferred to patch himself up and usually that was enough. This isn't just a wound he has to patch up though. David knows he can't walk, not yet.

He presses a little kiss on Dirk's cheek without a second thought, and then moves on to his lips. Why wouldn't he? He loves Dirk. He has waited so long to be able to do this. Well, he is also at least a little bit high, so that makes just going for it a bit easier.

He finally pulls away and nods. "Yeah, I really gotta piss. Fuck, how long was I out?" Just sitting up seems like a tremendous effort right now, but David wants to be back on his feet as soon as possible. He groans with effort when he tries to pull himself up, and curses in frustration. This sucks.

 

Dirk's cheeks flush with color again, feeling his brother's lips on him. He truly doesn't know whether the painkillers are that strong, or if David is just that happy, enough to kiss his little brother on the mouth. Maybe both. Dirk definitely isn't complaining.

He's fantasized about this for years.

"About two days, not counting the first time you woke up," Dirk reports, and surges forward when David tries to sit up. He cradles him from behind, and slowly guides him up into a sitting position.

"It's okay," he soothes, "I'll carry you." Dirk guides David's arms to wrap around his shoulders, and snakes one of his own under his brother's knees. Almost effortlessly, he lifts him up into his lap, and carefully stands, mindful of all of David's equipment. He carries him in a princess hold over to his wheelchair, and gently sets him down in it.

It's not much of a journey to the attached bathroom, bringing the IV stand with them. He would sit David on the toilet, but he's kind of scared of him falling over.

"I'm gonna stand you up for this, okay bro? Just lean on me and I'll hold you up. Lift up your gown and let me help." Dirk coaxes David up, lifting him by the armpits. It would be pretty funny, dragging him up like a wet cat, if David didn't absolutely need that kind of assistance after being a POW for half a decade. Maybe he'll recreate the scene when David has a passable amount of muscle tone again.

He props David up with his own body, supporting the majority of his weight. It's awkward, but Dirk is able to tuck his chin on the meat of David's shoulder, looking down to reach between his brother's legs and take ahold of his soft penis with a warm and careful hand.

His other arm goes tight around David's waist, and the hand presses firmly over David's full bladder, bulging so easily from his emaciated body. "Just let it out. I got you.”

 

How useless this body feels. Just a broken shell of what used to bring David so much pride. He used to train every day, groom himself and pick out the most expensive suits to look his best. Now his little brother easily picks him up like a bundle of sticks. Will Dirk ever look up to him like he used to as a kid?

David's brooding is interrupted quickly when they reach the bathroom and Dirk pulls him up. He is glad it's Dirk and no one else. No one else is supposed to see this weakness, just how broken down he truly is.

Dirk grabs his cock like it's the most natural thing in the world, and maybe it is. Faintly, David thinks of desire, of wanting Dirk to touch him more intimately... But that is merely a fleeting thought.

He really has to piss.

David's ears turn red with embarrassment at the position they are in, that he can't even take a goddamn piss on his own right now... Pathetic. He is pathetic and useless and yet Dirk is right there and holds him so willingly, not wasting a single second on shame or his own comfort.

Dirk presses over his bladder and David lets out a little undignified squeal before he finally sighs in relief. His piss is a nasty dark orange, but part of him had expected blood or some kind of messed up alien goo, so he will take it. He's glad he doesn't have to aim, or to think at all, only concentrating on how good it feels to just have a normal bodily function, in a normal human environment.

If anyone had told him five years ago that he'd ever miss toilets, he sure wouldn't have believed them.

Dirk is so warm and steady, if his legs weren't feeling like they're about to give out he would love to simply pass out like this again, with Dirk's warm hand around his soft prick. It's oddly comforting to be touched like this, with no sexual intent at all, only caring.

Finally, he sinks back into his chair, exhaustion pulling at him as if he had just ran a marathon instead of taking a goddamn piss.

 

David is really cute. Dirk shouldn't be thinking that, but he does, hearing his little noise and sigh. He holds David tight as he relieves himself, and takes note of the color to tell the nurse later — although it's probably a side effect of one of the medications...

He lets David collapse back into his chair, flushes the toilet, and washes his hands. Dirk bends down to kiss his brother's forehead before steering the wheelchair again. "Let's do your bath now," is all he says, satisfaction curling like a growing vine in his chest over having helped David with even just one little thing like the bathroom.

He carries him back to bed, and then goes about filling the basin and bowls the nurse left here for them with warm water from the room's tap. He locks the room's door once he's done, scribbling a note with a nearby pen and pad that reads, 'BATHING PATIENT — DO NOT DISTURB,' and sticking it to the window.

Dirk carries all the supplies to David's bedside, and starts soaking a washcloth in some warm soapy water. "Just gonna do your face and hair first," he says, "Get you all nice n' fit for pageantry. Take some commemorative family photos together, or some shit."

He gingerly presses the washcloth to David's face, starting with his slightly sweaty forehead. It's less of a scrub and more of a caress, feeling like if he presses too hard at the delicate skin here, it'll rip like tissue paper.

 

Dirk kisses his head and the casual affection warms David up from the inside out. Damn, it's cold outside of his blanket cocoon, but that is probably because all he is wearing is a hospital gown, which is admittedly more decent than he has been in years.

David is once again lifted easily, this time back into bed, and he feels conflicted. It's nice to have his little bro take care of him, he can't deny that, but it's also frustrating as all hell to need assistance with the simplest shit. Maybe he should cut himself some slack here. His body has had a rough go of it for the past five years.

He is distracted from his brooding when Dirk speaks up and starts washing his face. David lets out a content little sigh. A bath isn't something he has had in quite some time either, even if it is only a sponge bath.

"I'd ask you to take a picture of us for the family album right now, but I'm not sure I'd even recognize myself." What a depressing line of thought, but it's true. His hair alone must be a goddamn mess, far too long for his liking and without the luxury of a brush for years... He sighs.

"Maybe with a haircut... My shades and some pants." He hums. "Yeah, after that we can take a picture. Maybe even accept visitors."

David loves his friends dearly, but he doesn't particularly feel like facing them right now, at his lowest. It's different with Dirk. Dirk doesn't look at him with pity. Dirk is family, his only family, maybe even closer than just that.

 

Dirk traces the skin he washes with his other hand, just to commit it to sense memory. David's words might've caused a pang of his heart a few years ago, but his captivity has been Dirk's reality for a long time. He's seen so much of it, and David doesn't even know.

They'll burn that bridge when they come to it.

"We'll take a picture anyway," Dirk declares, too soft with fondness to care a whit about David's appearance. His smile makes him look as charming as ever, anyway. Dirk was afraid that David would be too traumatized for him to ever see it again.

He rinses David's face with another, water-only cloth, and situates the hair-washing basin under his head, being extra careful with his neck. Dirk soaks his brother's hair in the water, and starts working the soap into his scalp with deft hands.

"Rosalind is coming to see you later," Dirk informs him, a bit hesitantly. "She'll bring some clothes. Whatever you need, she probably anticipated. She needs to update you on some shit — just the most important stuff, I think."

Dirk rinses David's hair out, and starts on washing it one more time, massaging deep into his scalp, nails scraping gently over the skin.

 

Dirk's reply takes David by surprise. He really doesn't care for David's sorry state, does he. Quietly, he answers, "Alright. But that one's gonna be just for us."

Not that they ever made a habit out of sharing family pictures with the public, or that he thinks Dirk would share this. Still, he isn't quite sure how he feels about photographic evidence of this, as much as he loves photography.

David lets Dirk move his head and hums at the feeling of smooth hands massaging his scalp. Shit, this is nice.

Aaaand, there it is. Of course Rosalind would come. He supposes out of all his friends he is most comfortable with her seeing him like this. It helps that he is distracted by Dirk's efforts.

He grunts in reply. "Yeah, she always knows shit like that." It beats Dirk having to leave for sure.

 

Dirk tips Dave's head back into the water, rinsing out his hair a second time. The hospital didn't supply conditioner, so he guesses that luxury will have to be saved for when they go home. Maybe he can grab a bottle of David's favorite on the way back...

"Arms and legs next," he says quietly, as he sets about drying David's hair with a towel. He twists it into a wrap snugly around David's head, not wanting him to get cold. "I think everybody knows you need some space to recover, but I'd bet on them all coming to say hi before we leave. I read online that the risk of refeeding syndrome passes after about a week, and once your stomach is okay we'll need to get you eating, like, a metric fuckton of calories to build muscle before we start you on physical therapy..."

Dirk keeps rambling a bit about what he's been told by the doctors and what he's Googled while he soaps up David's arms for him, speaking in a low, calm voice, like one would use when approaching a shy horse. He soaps, rinses, and repeats for each limb, every little appendage, even scrubbing the grit from underneath his brother's fingernails, his toes, all his attention on the details. Every vein, callous, and scar gets brushed over and cataloged into the infinite expanse of obsessive tabs kept in Dirk's mind.

There's a point where he gathers the basin and bowls to dump back in the sink and replenish with newly warmed water and soap, and comes back. He places a cautious hand over David's chest, feeling his fragile heartbeat in there.

"Have to do your back and front, now. I need to undress you," he explains. There's not really any putting it off — David's hygiene is important to maintain in order to prevent infection — but he still makes eye contact with him, waits for his okay.

 

It only hits David now that he hasn’t seen his friends in five goddamn years. Shit. He goes quiet while Dirk works on his limbs, contemplating how much time he has lost, how much more he will have to waste on recovery.

It's a lot.

He swallows hard, doing his best to keep his face neutral even when he wants to scream. Dirk doesn’t need to see his big brother cry right now, or ever. He is only pulled out of the fog in his brain when Dirk returns and touches him.

David nods in reply. He doesn’t want to bare himself again but it’s okay with Dirk. Dirk has already seen him, knows him at his worst.

"Go ahead," he says, even if it is quiet. This body hardly feels like his anymore anyways. He wonders how much of what happened Dirk knows. How much his friends know.

He doesn't dare to ask.

 

Even with the mask of neutrality, Dirk knows that David isn't okay, but— there's nothing he can do about it, except be here and help him function. It infuriates him.

Instead of disemboweling the nearest person (or more likely, himself) like some bizarre appeasement offering — that would certainly do no good — Dirk softly instructs David to roll over onto his stomach, and helps him do so, so he can get at the ties on the back of the gown.

They'll talk about it when they feel like talking about it. That's always been the Strider creed, and it hasn't failed them thus far, Dirk thinks.

He pulls the gown open, unwraps David like a present. Dirk isn't surprised to see his back horrifically mutilated, with scars new and old, raised and indented, shiny and thick. He's seen most of these get made, watching footage through his computer screen, analyzing every pixel, every audio track for a clue as to David's whereabouts...

He was one of the first to notice how odd David's screams sounded, reverberating off those walls, like he was hollering into a tin can.

Dirk soaps over that skin, now, the grotesque and knotted canvas, gentle so as to not irritate scarred flesh. Suds collect in between the knobs of his spine, the lines of his ribs, the pronounced small of his back. God, he wants to kiss David, press his lips over every detail, climb over top of him and glue himself to his back, thank him for just being alive...

Dirk washes David's bony butt, too, going over it with his warm sponge, petting his flank soothingly with his other hand while he cleans him. There's another rinse, and then a pat-dry, and Dirk is rolling him onto his back again. He wants to say something nice, like good job or you did so well, but any option sounds kind of corny and frankly pretty gay so he just. Looks down and busies himself with his sponges, tries to be quick about it so David doesn't get too cold. He wants to kiss his brother again so bad he itches with it.

 

He must be such a sorry sight. but Dirk doesn’t look at him with pity or disgust, only adoration. A look he has given his older brother for as long as David can remember. It’s bittersweet to be loved so unconditionally and yet feel so unworthy of it.

Dirk helps him roll on his stomach and he feels his cheeks go pink with shame. Even this he needs help with. Not to mention the sorry sight that must be greeting Dirk. He remembers the beatings and whippings, knows they must have left a web of ugly scars.

Dirk is obviously trying so hard to be gentle, to make this as easy as possible but when he starts on David's front he can't hold back the shaking any longer. These scars he can see and remember. He knows that where he used to be well built there's nothing left but skin and bone. Pathetic. Disgusting.

He wants Dirk to hold him. Ground him. Be his anchor.

He can't ask that of his baby brother. He is supposed to be the caretaker.

"Dirk," he croaks. "How are you? You got hurt too, didn’t you?"

It’s hard to try to keep his breathing even. He doesn't want to see his own body so instead he studies Dirk's face, tries to internalize that the hands touching him right now are safe. Dirk would never hurt him.

 

It probably wouldn't be obvious if anyone else was looking at him, but at the tensing of his body and stutter in his breathing, the deflection, Dirk knows that David is freaking out.

He doesn't really know what to do other than keep going and keep talking, maintaining eye contact with David. "Yeah, but I'm fine," he says, with a bit of a cocky twitch of his lips. "Just some cuts and bruises. The crew didn't give me all that much trouble."

Total hot air, but whatever. He feels like impressing his big brother for a bit, while he lathers up his thin chest, circles the sponge down to his concave belly. Dirk would be a head on a stick if he hadn't had Hal as his second pair of eyes, and Sawtooth and Squarewave on board — may they rest in pieces, Dirk guesses. "I'll have some wicked scars, at least. I'll show you when I'm done. Pretty fuckin' sick, if you ask me, but don't let that influence your final rating. I want an honest and fair review."

The sponge has to go over David's privates, now, and Dirk just keeps yammering like a moron, because he'll need to rinse and dry David as well and he doesn't want to have him have a panic attack on the bed while Dirk is more or less medically obligated to continue.

"I also got a tattoo on my shoulder," Dirk says, making sure to be quick but thorough with this part, pulling back the foreskin of David's penis to clean there, too. "Stick n' poke. Did it myself. Think you'll be impressed by my thirteen year-old self's artistic talent."

He winks, which is probably not the thing to do when you're washing your brother's balls for him, but. Gotta distract him.

 

"Yeah?" David says, voice quiet and distant. "Proud of you. You gave 'em hell, right?"

His body feels far away right now, barely his own at all. He is simply an outsider, observing Dirk as he works on a stranger. The body lets out a little shuddery breath when Dirk touches his genitals but he doesn't freak out. These too barely belong to him anymore, used by others however they saw fit.

Dirk winks and David smiles in response, small as it may be. Dirk shouldn't have to be washing him like this but he is doing it without complaint and David is grateful. He isn't sure if he could manage to stay this calm with a stranger touching him like this.

"You gonna strip for me? I show you mine, you show me yours?"

It's supposed to be a joke, David thinks. Mostly. He does want to see how Dirk has grown up.

 

Dirk's ears burn as he hums an affirmative. Proud of you. God. How long he's been waiting for those words... He looks down and immediately blushes more, met with the sight of David's body, that he's finally touching— Augh. "Yeah," he mutters, and discards the soapy sponge for the rinsing cloth, working it over his brother's genitals first, his touch clinical and methodical.

The heat crawls down his neck when David makes that bawdy joke. He snorts, though, rinsing up David's torso, starting with his hips and belly, up. "Just say the word, bro. I'll keep the door locked a little bit longer, give you time to ogle the artwork. There's one on my side that makes the ladies swoon..."

Well, Roxy swoons. Jane just winces and coos over him like a mother pigeon.

Talking to David seems to help, because Dirk is able to get him all washed and dried without incident. He procures two fresh gowns for David, one to tie at his front and one to the back, "So that you don't have to feel the breeze on your ass," Dirk explains, a wry twist to his lips. He doubles up on those hospital grippy socks for David, and, after a moment, decides to do triple, getting his feet all nice and cozy before he tucks them back under the blankets.

Dirk takes the towel off David's head, letting his too-long hair fan out to dry on his pillow, and just. Sits on the edge of the bed for a moment, admiring his brother's face, the way his eyes shine in the dark, bruised pits of his sockets. He bends down to kiss David's forehead again, right between the furrow of his eyebrows.

 

"The ladies, hmm?" David smirks. "You got a special little lady or lad in your life?" he asks, but he's sure he knows the answer. Dirk doesn't have anyone he is romantically involved with. For the same reason David himself hasn't had anyone in the past fifteen years. It's just the two of them.

He actually chuckles when Dirk starts to dutifully wrap him up, even going triple on the socks. "Well, I'll finally have warm feet again," he comments.

Dirk kisses his head and David leans into it like a cat, puckers up his lips to ask for another more intimate one. Who cares if that's weird and incestuous? It feels fucking nice and he will damn well take everything nice he can get.

 

Dirk huffs, amused. "You know I don't," he replies. In truth, there was a near hit— or maybe a miss— with Jake, but... Going on dates and kissing a boy just felt like it would have been a criminal waste of time, for him. He didn't have it in him to follow through, not when Dirk's mind was a dark and cold prison cell, and David was screaming in it.

The real David is here now, but only because Dirk clawed and fought and killed to make it so. At least he's clean, warm, weakly smiling, and asking for a kiss. Dirk still doesn't really understand that, but he doesn't hesitate to comply anyway — not with how much he yearned for it, bending down to slot warm and dry lips over David's.

They kiss for— the third time, maybe, sweet and chaste. Dirk strokes a hand along David's face, thumbing over his hard edges like he can smooth them down somehow with just a loving touch. Dirk's nose bumps against his NG tube. He wonders what David would like to eat, first thing after getting off the liquid diet. Maybe pizza. Hopefully Rosalind's Vision Omnifold lets her See David's definite need for a nicely chilled bottle of apple juice...

Dirk pulls away. Smiles just the faintest bit, and says to David under his breath, "Love you, bro." He pecks another featherlight kiss to his brother's pale lips again, and sits up, clearing his throat.

"Aight, check it," Dirk says abruptly, and begins to tug his hoodie and undershirt off, baring his torso for David to see. He moves kind of gingerly, cautious of stretching his skin in some places where he's stitched up.

There's scars, new and old, raised and indented, shiny and thick — just like David's. They scar in the same way — shared genes. Dirk hardly minds his own, though, carrying himself straight and with pride. He means it when he says they look dope on him, even the ones from dumb accidents (which probably comprise the majority of them, although the enemy hits stand out so much more). The fresh, red lacerations with black stitching are mostly at his arms and sides, and the outside of his legs, from where he couldn't dodge fast enough — more at his core is deep, purple-black bruising, turning yellow at the edges, from where he was punched and slammed into walls.

First thing, though — Dirk twists to show his right shoulder off to David, the glorious, painstakingly crafted Sweet Bro tattoo. "I was thinking you could get a matching Hella Jeff, whenever you're up to it. No pressure, though."

 

David sighs against the kiss, happy to feel his little brother’s lips against his own. It feels like coming home, like belonging. The moment passes far too soon but David's attention is quickly drawn to Dirk undressing.

He really has grown up into a handsome young man. He can't take his eyes off the revealed skin, reaches out to carefully run a hand along the scars and bruising. Dirk's priority is his tattoo however and David barks a laugh, the first in five long years. It's perfect.

"Only if you're the one to stick and poke me."

 

Dirk's skin comes alive with goosebumps as David touches him. He wants to just take David's hand, hold it in his own, but he also doesn't want to cut short the feeling of his brother's cool fingertips investigating the mottled expanse of his skin...

Dirk's eyes lift into a smile, hearing David's laugh, and his heart thuds clumsily against his chest in a fit of emotional dyspraxia. He makes a decision, and starts unbuckling his belt, opening his pants. "I'll stick and poke you whenever you want me to," he promises, with a goofy eyebrow waggle. "Think I might ask the staff here for more needles, in that case."

He shimmies out of his pants, taking his underwear down too. Fuck it, he'll just leave the sign on the door for a little bit more — David deserves to be mirrored, to not be the only one to have been exposed and vulnerable. Dirk coaxes David into scooting a bit, and lays across from him on the bed, on top of the blankets while David's tucked cozy under.

"Don't know if it's all that noticeable, but I got on T after I turned thirteen," Dirk tells him, low like he's speaking in secret. Their heads are close together — they'd be squished against each other if it weren't for the blankets separating them. "Rosalind signed off on it, in loco parentis. Almost done with high school already, too, and so's Roxy..."

 

Dirk is beautiful. David can't take his eyes off him as he undresses more, bares himself completely for his big brother. Perhaps he should avert his eyes, at least pretend he is feeling shame but he is far too tired for playing pretend. Dirk is perfect, an oasis in the desert and he is a thirsty old man, in more ways than one.

He hums in agreement at Dirk's silly little promise and says, "After we get out of here then. Let's make it a celebration. Order a fuck ton of fast food, get tipsy and put holes in each other."

He's probably not going to be supposed to drink for a good long while, David laments internally. Not that he is known for following doctors orders to a T. Or at all.

None of these thoughts matter when Dirk lies next to him, naked and beautiful and perfect. David can't help it, his hands move to touch on their own, suddenly incredibly interested in a scar that ends just below the swell of Dirk's breast. He wants to move further up, touch these cute pink nipples and memorize the noises Dirk makes when he does...

It's far too soon for that. He shouldn't glance down between Dirk's legs where he spots a healthy little cock peeking out between his folds. He wants to touch there as well, listen to his little bro come apart for him. And he will, soon. Not today, probably not tomorrow but soon, as soon as he feels awake enough to truly appreciate it, as soon as he thinks that he can actually feel some lust himself again.

Still, Dirk baring himself like this is very much appreciated and David shows this by pulling him close, kissing Dirk's cheek and his soft lips. He's not strong enough to hold him nearly as tight as he'd like but it's still good, still nice.

"Does show," he comments, "You've grown up well. Handsome boy. My handsome boy." David lazily nuzzles into Dirk before he continues. "Course you are," he grins. "Our li’l genius babies. Always been so proud of that..."

He yawns, already exhausted again from doing barely anything.

 

Like hell Dirk is getting tipsy. He needs his faculties with him when he's etching another masterpiece into David's arm — every sink of the needle into his brother's precious flesh has to be calculated, purposeful. Perfect.

Perfect like David's hands on him, his eyes following the lines of Dirk's body. Dirk suppresses a shudder. God, David can touch him wherever he wants, forever, Dirk decides. This is all probably bordering on a little too gay, but— who cares, he thinks, wildly. Who cares if it's just them?

He'll admonish himself later, for being selfish. Now, he lets himself be drawn in close by David, be kissed, and kisses back.

It's cold as fuck in this hospital room, but David's words suffuse Dirk with heat from inside his core. He's David's boy... "Yours," Dirk quietly affirms, closing his eyes and savoring being embraced by his brother before he has to get up. He feels a little bit more like a kid again. "Your boy. Always thought about you. Never stopped, bro. Always your boy."

His heart tugs and pulls like a dog on a leash, like it wants to be with David, wants Dirk to press close enough to fuse their chests together and meet its brother. Dirk kisses David instead, so sweetly on the lips, getting more addicted every time he does so.

"I'll wake you up when Rosalind gets here, okay? Just go to sleep, I'll be here," Dirk tells him, reaching up to pet his damp hair. "Gotta get dressed in a sec, though. Feel like a nurse might yell at me for this. Not wearing a gown, so there's not really an excuse to be showing my ass in a hospital room.”

 

"Mine," David says, unable to keep the possessiveness out of his voice. "Always thought about you too. Kept me goin' through everything...Knowing you're out there, growing up, fighting. I knew you'd come."

In David's mind there had never been any doubt that it would be Dirk who would save him, insane as it may have sounded considering Dirk was only ten back then. He would have trusted his little brother with his life even back then.

Sleep starts to claim David but he has to kiss Dirk again first. He hums an affirmative at getting woken when Rosalind arrives and chuckles weakly at the mental image of Dirk's naked ass being discovered by the nurses but his eyes are already closed again.

"I love you." It's little more than a whisper, but he knows Dirk heard.

 

Another flare of heat gets breathed alive inside of Dirk, hearing mine like that, in David's weak and creaky voice. "Love you," Dirk returns, equally as quiet, and watches David fall asleep.

He waits until David's breathing evens out, the monitors by the bed beeping steadily, until David's features relax and slip into a painkiller-aided sleep. Dirk slithers out from under his brother's hugging arm, and creeps silently from the bed, wincing internally from the shock of the cold linoleum against his bare feet. He dresses quietly, and— stops, when tying his belt, and instead of doing it up, he removes it from his pants completely, discarding it on the visitor's chair by the bed.

Dirk pads over to the door, unlocks it, removes the note, and returns to David, every ounce of his ninja training used in lifting the blanket and slipping in the bed beside David like a swift and massless shadow, not risking disturbing him even an iota.

Watching David's slack, peaceful face with both adoring and wary eyes, Dirk breathes out, even and slow. He reaches down into the open fly of his own pants, under the waistband of his panties, and touches his painfully hard cock with shaking fingertips, holding his breath so that he doesn't accidentally sigh or moan.

Dirk is horribly, detestably, blazingly fucking horny. Under that, though, he truly isn't equipped at all to deal with the abyssal oil pit of emotion churning in his heart, intoxicating his brain — there's so much of everything: relief, grief, pain, ecstasy, yearning, love. He's going to castigate himself for this later, jerking himself off next to his sexually tortured brother that he hasn't met in years, but if Dirk doesn't do this right now he might cry or throw up or start ripping out his own stitches and eating them.

Besides, he thinks, obsessively, nothing ever less than obsessively, he loves you. He kissed you. He touched you. You're his, you saved him, you're his now...

Dirk breaks down like that, rubbing out the mess of tension onto his clit, lubing up his hardness with his own messy slick, leaking from his hole. He held David's cock in this hand, cleaned his body with his touch. He tore off that collar, carried him here, clothed him and wrapped him in the blankets they're sharing, and now they're together, so close, warm and so close...

Dirk hasn't been close to David in a long time. He thinks about David's lips on his, memories of them kissing replaying in his mind over and over — Dirk doesn't know why David likes doing it, but he hopes he never stops, hopes it continues, that eventually David opens Dirk's mouth and lets him feel his tongue...

David is here. David is really here. He'll never leave Dirk ever again, never, fucking never, together for the rest of their lives—

Dirk leans forward to kiss David's forehead as he suddenly cums, hips spasming, cunt convulsing, his orgasm rolling through his entire body. Tears gather in the corner of his eyes, and he breathes in and out shallowly just to not puff over David's face and startle him awake.

It takes a while for him to come down. If he were at home, he'd keep masturbating his cunt until sundown, and then sway like a zombie in a hot shower afterwards — but this is enough, for now. It doesn't satisfy Dirk, not really, but it takes the edge off, will keep him from doing something dumb enough to get him admitted to the hospital's psych ward and earning Rosalind's Sarcastic Motherly Disapproval.

They're both going to need a bit more rest before she comes. Dirk closes his eyes.

Chapter 3: Unite, Reunited

Summary:

The hospital stay continues. The Lalondes come by, and Hal introduces himself.

Notes:

some allusions to troll-directed xenophobia in this chapter, on david's part

David's rest is dreamless and pleasant, but if he was aware of what Dirk just did next to him he'd feel nothing but pride and joy at how well his boy has grown up. He would kiss him and tell him he did a good job, fatherly even about something so taboo.

The next time he cracks his eyes open is to the sight of his best friend, Rosalind Lalonde herself. He offers her a smile and a, "Hey."

The smile grows even bigger when he notices that Dirk is still right next to him where he left him (if thankfully a bit more dressed) and he is getting the honor of the smaller Lalonde visiting as well. This truly feels like the family reunion he has been craving for, even if it didn’t usually involve a hospital bed in his dreams. No matter, they are all here now, together at last and he opens his arms to get the hugs going.

For once he truly doesn’t know what to say, but he's never really needed many words with Rosalind. She always had a knack for getting him, no matter if he talked too little or too much.

 

Dirk wakes up to the door opening and closing, and the rhythmic click, clack of heels approaching. He blinks open his eyes, immediately alert, even as he knows it's only Rosalind — and Roxy, barrelling into him, punching an "oof" from his chest that makes him hiss, "Rox, be careful!"

Meanwhile, Rosalind is smiling down at David, the happiness on her face shining like the sun, making her glow. "Hello there," she greets him, voice bright with joy. She leans forward to join them in the hug pile, wrapping her arms delicately around David, and kisses him soundly on the cheek. A black and perfectly shaped lipstick mark gets stamped there, and Dirk's eyes lift in amusement.

"I missed you, David," Rosalind says, resting her head for a moment on David's chest. "Everyone does. They're all waiting to see you — we anticipated you needing some time to recover a bit more before a big reunion, but I know everyone is listening for the word to book tickets down here. Jadeen and Johnathan, and his son, and their grandchildren..."

Dirk hears the implicit reassurance. Everyone is alright. No one died.

She extricates herself from David with the same care she used in embracing him, but doesn't completely depart — her hand clasps his in a firm, anchoring grip, as she pulls up a chair to sit next to him. They look at each other like— like pieces of themselves, once lost, have slot back into place.

Dirk would be jealous— he really would be— if he hadn't gotten over that phase long ago, even before David's abduction, when he was a little bratty kid who wanted to cling to David every second. Dirk would seethe with hatred at Rosalind, every time she visited, all those times she'd spend hours talking to David in the living room, winding into the night, even sharing drinks.

It wasn't even the forced collaboration over the resistance effort that warmed Dirk to Rosalind Lalonde — it was just her, the fateful time she turned her piercing gaze on him, purple and knowing, and looked. It's hard to stay on bad terms with someone whom you've had multiple late night philosophical and uncomfortably close-to-home conversations with, even when you both totally commit to the charade that they never happened come morning. Besides— Rosalind is getting married, although she's not wearing her engagement ring— more than likely for the purpose of this visit.

She turns that gaze on him now, the one where she looks and sees, and her glowing smile sharpens into more of a smirk. "I brought you food and snacks, my dear," Rosalind says, sweetly, and Dirk knows that she's also admonishing him for not eating in the same breath. She lifts one perfect eyebrow up. "And a change of clothes."

Dirk grunts from where he's buried underneath an enthusiastic Roxy, and flashes her a thumbs up.

 

A calm washes over David at the embrace of his best friend in the whole world, distinctly different from the way Dirk calms him down but no less powerful. They had planned to die together at one point and he would have done so happily. The difference is that while he would die with her, he would stay alive for Dirk. Opposite but equally powerful sentiments.

He laughs when she kisses his cheek, no doubt leaving a heavy lipstick mark. "Dirk just cleaned that, you know? Rude to ruin his hard work in making me presentable so easily." He would be shaking his head in disappointment if he truly gave a shit, but instead he returns the gesture and kisses her head, ruining that perfect hairstyle just a little bit in the process. Good, this is proof that he's back and well. On his way to well at the very least. Roxy gets a loving hair ruffle for her efforts, anything but forgotten.

"Missed you too," he says, voice slightly by Rosalind's hair. "All of you." There's an unspoken 'every second of that hell' lingering on his tongue, but he doesn't dare say it. He knows she knows about it. There's no need to actually speak it aloud.

David takes her hand and moves it to his cheek to nuzzle into it, adoring her soft hands, ending in black perfectly pointed claws that can and did cost men eyes before. Rosalind is a perfectly manicured murder weapon, just like he has left her. He adores this about her, along with other countless little things.

He chuckles at her version of motherly care being bestowed on Dirk and sighs a breath of relief. He really, really missed this. Missed her, and Roxy and the others of course. This isn't normal quite yet and it won't be for a while but it's getting there.

"What presents do you bring for me, Miss Lalonde? I admit I was hoping for clothes that actually cover my ass, as much as I usually love showing it."

 

Rosalind's face gentles again as David nuzzles her hand, and she looks at her best friend, eyes sparkling with love. She strokes his face with that hand in much the same way Dirk has seen her do to Roxy, and Jadeen, and even a couple times, himself. She hasn't been this genuinely happy since she announced her engagement, and not this genuinely tender since she reassured Dirk in private that they'll wait for David to come home to have the ceremony. (She had sounded so certain, then, that David would come home, willing to bet her marriage on it— it had been a comfort that Dirk will never be able to express.)

She is radiant.

Roxy giggles, giddy, and seems to decide she's had enough of smothering Dirk — she lunges over him to hug David instead, far more gentle than she did Dirk, but the way she drapes her body over Dirk only squishes him more. "Dude," he wheezes, and resigns himself to a fate of being flattened by the Lalonde hydraulic press.

"Uncle David!" she cries, and joy is as beautiful on her as it is on her mother. Her curls seem to bounce with her laughs like the ringing of Christmas bells. "Ohmygod I missed you soooo much! I missed you, I missed you, I love you—"

She plants a noisy kiss on David's other cheek, giving him a much more excited and smeared black lipstick mark than Rosalind's. Dirk snorts, and wheezes again.

"I of course brought you enough fitting vestments to cover your ass," Rosalind says over Roxy's gushing, clearly holding in laughter of her own. "A fair few. Your old clothes might be a bit big on you now— although something tells me you wouldn't mind the baggy nineties hip hop look—, so I bought them new, and used the opportunity to brush up on my crochet skills..."

Not letting go of David's hand, Rosalind bends down to rifle through the huge purple duffel bag she apparently brought — she pulls out a handsome, thick, cozy-looking oversized crochet sweater, done in gradient stripes of purple, pink, red, and orange. It's certainly a caliber above her usual creations, and Dirk would bet that her fianceé helped her perfect the construction. "It comes with, of course, matching socks, mittens, hats, and a scarf..."

"We have, like, so much to tell you!" Roxy bursts out, and Dirk winces from the volume, and also the way she wiggles against his stitches. "Mom, can we tell him? Please please please?"

Rosalind twists her lips in a way that everyone in the room knows means that she doesn't appreciate being interrupted but is too endeared to her daughter to be sour about it. "Well," she starts, "I was planning to save the best for last, but—"

Roxy apparently takes this as an affirmative, because she proclaims, booming and important, "Condy's dead! She's dead and we killed her! I mean, like, I killed her, but we all fought her and I got to deal the finishing blow, but anyway the point is that she's dead and so are her cronies, lawl! We won and got you out and everything's gonna be okay now I'm p sure!"

"Ding dong," Dirk croaks, celebratory, "Okay Rox, now get off—" She doesn't listen.

 

Roxy, dear, sweet Roxy, hugs him close and David laughs and pulls his free arm around her in the tightest hug he can manage, which admittedly isn't very tight at all, but it's the thought that counts. It's so good to be out and free and with the people he loves the most in the whole world. David feels like his heart might just explode from joy, but it keeps on beating steadily.

"I love you too, baby," he wheezes. "Missed you so much. You took good care of Dirk for me, didn't you?" Like he even has to ask. No doubt that the Lalondes took good care of Dirk, just like David would have taken care of Roxy had their roles been reversed. He loves all his friends, but Rosalind and Roxy are family.

A dorky grin appears between the twin lipstick marks on his face when Rosalind proudly presents the sweater, in the family colors no less. "Awww, you do care," he says, like he has so many times before when she has shown him kindness. "I'm gonna be the most handsome motherfucker in this whole joint in these. And the coziest, though Dirk’s already been working on securing me that title. Just put the socks over my triple sock combo for now."

He was about ready to start working on wiggling his feet out of the blanket pile when Roxy announces that she has what he's assuming must be life changing news, but nothing could have properly prepared him for what Roxy yells right into his face.

She's dead.

The witch is dead and the kid who killed her is sitting here in his arms and she's dead. There's a beat of silence in the room while everyone waits for the information to sink into David's brain and then...

...Then he laughs.

He hugs Roxy and he squeezes Rosalind's hand as tight as he can manage and he laughs and laughs and laughs until there's tears streaming down his face and then he laughs some more.

Ding dong indeed.

"Did you," he finally manages after calming down a bit, "Did you keep the head? As a trophy for the living room?"

 

As David laughs hysterically, Dirk looks over at him in concern, Roxy beams, and Rosalind looks at him with fondness and a little exasperation, her beautiful violet eyes turning glassy with emotion. She chuckles, too, holding David's hand all the while, the grip turning both of their knuckles white.

A trophy. Dirk wrinkles his nose in disgust, even if he has an appreciation for the concept. "I don't wanna look at that bitch every day," he complains. Roxy cackles.

"O-M-G, noooo! We had a totes sweet bonfire with her body, though. Apparently highblood trolls are really, really hardy, and obvi nobody wanted to take any chances of her regenning in some bizarro way," she explains, apparently content with how she's laying on the both of them, talking with her head resting comfortably on David's thin chest. Most of her weight is on poor Dirk, who submits to his fate and starts fiddling with the bed controls so that David can actually sit up to talk to their family.

"Damn, and you guys didn't even wait to invite us to the corpse party," Dirk laments. "Nobody had a spare fridge to lock the body in? Could've had a killer barbeque. I'm good with fish."

"Uh, you're never supposed to turn your back on the body, Dirk, duh! Even if it's in a fridge, lmao."

"Roxy, darling," Rosalind chides, keeping her voice steady even as tears gather in the corner of her eyes. "Let up for a second so Dirk can come over and eat."

Roxy finally obliges, rolling off the bed so that Dirk can exit — not before he joins in on the kiss action, though, smooching the corner of David's mouth. Roxy takes up his old spot pretty much immediately, curling up next to David all cozy-like, throwing an arm around his waist and tucking her head on his bony shoulder.

Dirk shakes out his prickling legs as he ambles over to Rose's infinite bag of wonders and Taco Bell - Roxy's big ass made them fall asleep. He drags a chair over to sit next to Rosalind, and to Dirk's embarrassment, she reaches out her other hand to comb her fingers through his hair, affectionately stroking it out of his face. He blushes.

Like every poor man who forgets he needs to eat, Dirk doesn't know how hungry he is until he takes the first bite of his food. He groans happily, and, horror of horrors, Rosalind is either ecstatic or cruel enough— more than likely both— to lean in and give Dirk a matching kiss mark on his cheek.

"Thank you for bringing him back to us, dear," she murmurs. "I always knew you would."

Dirk blushes more, and takes an obscenely large bite of his burrito so that he doesn't have to say anything.

 

"Fuck, you’re right," David answers Dirk. "Never having to see that ugly fish bitch's face in real life again might actually be better. Still kinda wish I could have spat on the corpse." Or maybe some worse things, but he doesn't really want to ruin the family reunion by letting his darker thoughts take over.

He nods proudly, unhooking his arm from around Roxy to wipe at his eyes. "Good fucking call. Sushi is good, but dead witch is so much better. The Hansel and Gretel way to go seems just enough in my book. Nothing for any fucked up troll weirdos to worship after the fact."

If he sounds bitter and xenophobic there, it's only because he is. Thankfully, they aren't here to discuss trolls as a species in general. David isn't the type of man to ever advocate for genocide, even after he has been wronged like this, but he certainly isn't feeling especially friendly towards anyone grey.

Dirk presses a kiss on his face and the momentary scowl immediately melts back into a smile.

While Dirk busies himself with his burrito David pulls Roxy close again and kisses the top of her head. "Little witch slayer," he says with so much fondness. "I owe you one."

The atmosphere is almost unbearably tender between the four of them so he starts to wiggle his feet out of the blanket finally, presenting his triple socked soles. "So, I was promised the most comfortable of socks. Where are they at?"

 

An undercurrent of awkwardness passes through Rosalind, Roxy, and Dirk that David doesn't seem to be privy to. All of them understand any xenophobia from David— they just share the private hope and goal to help him heal from it eventually.

After all, Rosalind is engaged to marry a troll.

It's there one moment and then it's not, the blip discarded in favor of celebrating their reunion with David. Roxy squeals and kicks her feet happily as David kisses her. "I did it for you! And the whole human race too, obvs, but also for you!"

She nuzzles deeper into David's shoulder, looking adoringly up at her uncle, pink eyes narrowed into little slits from how widely she's smiling. "Omg, omg, yes, try on your new fit! Mom's been workin' on it for like, five-ever, hehe!"

Dirk can't see a blush, Rosalind's face made up with foundation, but she gives a bashful little tilt to her head. She ducks to start fishing the knit items out of the bag, and it's only because of the angle Dirk is looking at her from that he sees her tears finally fall, unseen from the others. She discreetly wipes her eyes with her free hand and gets up, socks retrieved, giving one last squeeze of David's hand before letting it go so she can sit at the foot of his bed.

Rosalind looks down at his feet with amusement. "Dirk has been quite the diligent little nurse for you, I take it," she comments, a teasing slant to her mouth as she fits the crochet socks onto him, completing a fourth layer. Dirk is too busy stuffing his face with delicious fake Mexican food to care about the word little as a descriptor for him.

"Yeah Dirky, look at all these blankets — you got him enough for the entire ward!" Roxy laughs, but with good humor only. "Also, Mom, give him the mittens and hat too!"

"The mittens will obstruct his IV, dear."

"Then the hat," she insists, flapping her hand excitedly. Rosalind huffs and obliges, getting up again to get the hat from the bag.

"I've also gotten you your toothpaste and toothbrush, Dirk," Rosalind informs him, and Dirk grunts in affirmative. He's finished his burrito and moved on to munching from a little bag of Doritos and sipping his drink. "Since I know you'll be here for the remainder of David's stay, and some money to get whatever you want from the cafeteria — please don't forget to eat again, sweetheart, and tell me if there's anything specific you want me to bring you..."

She says this all while pulling the knit hat over David's head— and abruptly giggle-snorts once it's fully on, covering her mouth with her hand. To put it politely, David just looks completely silly with it on — it's a wool beanie that makes his head look 25% thicker where it covers it, with a big fluffy red bobble at the top. The socks don't help, either— his feet look cartoonishly big with all the layers on.

"That thing looks like one of those fucking puffles from Club Penguin, dude," Dirk jeers with a partially full mouth, laughing. "I need you on the cover of TIME with this, holy shit."

 

"The most diligent little brother nurse a dude could ask for," David is quick to say, hoping to embarrass Dirk just a bit more. "Not that I can say I mind, this place is cold as shit." Must be the hospital being bad at heating and not him missing on a few layers of fat currently.

He wiggles his feet happily after Rosalind adorns them with his new socks, and shakes his head a bit with the hat on, making the red bobble jiggle away. Rosalind's laugh is like balm for his soul.

"I most certainly feel like a character on Club Penguin, dude. But I can work it, right? I won’t be taking these off for a good fucking while, so it's pretty much guaranteed that I'll land on some magazine covers like this. I can see the headlines: Earth's most famous director returns in style!"

For a moment he wonders if the magazines will even still care for him, and if that would be good or bad, before quickly shoving that thought aside. Even if he himself isn't the talk of the town, the kids that defeated the Batterwitch most certainly are.

"Did you bring me any light reading, Rosie? And by that, I mean Dirk can read to me while I sleep. God, why am I so tired, actually don't answer that.”

 

Roxy giggles, Rosalind snorts, and Dirk smirks at David's antics. Rosalind reaches out to gently ruffle his hair in a mirror of what he did to her.

"I should think you'd enjoy some peace and quiet before the rags start clamoring for your picture, David, but we'll make sure to cut your hair at home before you're on every grocery store magazine." She leans in to kiss David again, this time on the temple, right below where the beanie covers. "Not that you need to be on any covers if you don't want to. Just say the word, and my legal team and I are on it. Taking down an alien occupationist has a number of benefits to your political pull, if you must know."

Rosalind smirks, a more mischievous glint to her eye. "'Light reading' — yes, of course. In the bag are some of my newer publications— I thought you might appreciate being kept up to date on my work— and some of your older favorites. I've only a vague idea of the length of your remaining hospital stay, and thought to bring you some extra entertainment." She pats his cheek affectionately. "Speaking of, I believe it's a good time for me to go and have a conversation with your doctor about your treatment plan, as I have some questions on your behalf. Have Dirk help you with the covering of your ass, and I'll be right back."

She disappears with another reassuring squeeze to David's hand and the click-clack of her heels. Roxy pipes up, "I have to go pee, so I'll just be in the bathroom while you get dressed — tell me when it's good to come out, okay? Also try on your new sweater too!" She squeezes David lightly again in a hug, nuzzling his cheek, before nimbly rolling off the bed and scuttling to the bathroom.

Dirk's mouth twitches upwards. Seems everyone's goal is to heap all the affection they can onto David — fine by him. Although Roxy is more or less like that all the time.

"If you wanna go to sleep, you can. They're staying close to here, so there's not any point to a formal goodbye," he tells him, getting up to retrieve a pair of underwear from Rosalind's bag — instead, he finds a book, first, well-worn and dog-eared, its title reading, "Lessons of Love. Dude, what the hell is this? Is this even yours? Did you leave this at her place?"

It has a lovingly-painted cover of a shirtless and enviably swole man holding a dainty young-looking woman both securely and gently in his arms. Their lips are almost, but not quite, touching, and the palette is warm and rosy. It is quite obviously a dimestore bodice-ripper.

 

"Please cut my hair. It has to look fuck-awful. I know I have the reputation to occasionally run around like a hobo, but my hair is actually important, okay? I don't think long hair is my style, not really. Tried it before, too much effort and looked like my hair exploded every time I woke up." He lets out a loud fake huff as if he actually cared that much about his hair and looks. He may be known to be a bit vain on occasion but he truly doesn't care that much as long as he is hospital bound. "Though… Maybe Roxy could braid it. That might be cute."

He sinks back into the pillow after the sudden hair outburst and chuckles. "I mean, it would be a crime to deprive the people of my lovely face, right? But it's good to know that I have the most powerful of anti-paparazzi weapons on my side."

David wiggles just a bit when Rosalind pats him, happy for every and all positive attention at the moment. "Oh, I can't wait to read up on your stuff, though I think that's a tad too much for my brain right now. Right now my brain isn't working so good, not that it ever does." Rosalind's writing can be rather heavy even when David is at his best, not that he doesn't appreciate the underlying messages any day.

And there go the Lalondes and it's suddenly only himself and Dirk again. Again David wiggles and starts reaching for Dirk with intentions of scoring another kiss. "First I want actual clothes on my ass, and then a good night story."

Ah, Lessons of Love, a classic. He smiles as he recalls the cheesy fucking plot about a teacher and his far too young student. "Don't judge a book by its cover. It's pretty damn good. Teaches you a lot about love and the school system circa fifty years ago."

If Dirk were to open it he'd find that the book is in fact signed by the author for David. Good old Christine wrote a lot of good stuff back in her day.

 

Dirk sighs, the edge of a laugh on his breath. He'd think that the book was an ironic joke between Rosalind and David, but with how well-worn it is — and with the author's autograph on the cover page, when Dirk flips it open, as well as a personal note — there's definitely more sincerity in the enjoyment of it than not. Although that very well might be what gives the irony such value in the first place...

"You must have been reading this shit before I was even born," Dirk observes, somewhere between incredulous and impressed. Fuck, but that's actually the perfect reaction for something like this to elicit. Was David this adept at the martial art of irony even back then?

Dirk loves his brother.

He leaves the book on top of the bag for later. They're definitely reading the whole thing before they leave. Dirk bends down to finally give David the kiss he's been asking for, pressing their lips firmly together in a particularly choice brotherly smooch. He cups David's face with his hand, and kisses him again, having gotten used enough to their kisses that he presses with more confidence, touches with reassurance.

Dirk gives him one last parting kiss on the chin before turning back to retrieve a pair of boxer briefs from the bag — a bit embarrassingly, Rosalind only packed Dirk his panties from home. He turns right back to David, and pats his leg, gently starting to lift them underneath the knees.

"Put your legs up," he directs quietly, and starts sliding David's underwear on for him, guiding each foot into the leg holes and sliding up, up — until he reaches David's hips, under his gown. He sees another flash of the family jewels as he fits it over David, and resolutely maintains a poker face even as the tips of his ears grow hot.

Dirk kisses David's knobbly knee when he's done, unendingly affectionate. "Wanna try on your sweater next? It's cold, right?" It'll probably make the variety of tubes going into David's body more difficult to interact with on the nurses' part, but fuck it, Dirk will just help out in that case.

 

"I read this in the hospital after you were born," David is quick to admit. He isn't ashamed of his taste in literature in the least. Middle-aged moms just happen to know what's good.

Finally, he gets the kiss he's been waiting for, grinning from ear to ear when Dirk pulls away. It’s a bit like one of these trashy novels he thinks. Kissing his cute little brother nurse shamelessly is the best.

He does his best to help Dirk wrestle him into his underwear, and instantly feels much more dressed and safe for it. To think that he'd ever be this grateful for undies.

David ruffles Dirk's hair and answers, "Sure. It's not as cold with all the blankets someone stole for me but the warmer the better, right? Gotta be cuddly for you, not just bones."

 

Dirk's mouth twitches upwards, at that. Ah. That reason is probably better than any sort of convoluted sincerely-ironic joke he thought up. He feels heat on his face again.

He stoops back down to kiss David once more, just a quick peck on his smiling lips — satisfaction curls in his gut at how those black lipstick marks frame his mouth on either side: Dirk is the only one to have the privilege to kiss him in the middle. "You're cuddly even when you're bones, don't worry, bro," he mutters.

Dirk grabs the sweater and instructs David to lift his arms up — and thankfully, the thing is so big that it's not an ordeal to put it on. Rosalind was even thoughtful enough to make the turtleneck-style collar to gape quite a bit, so that it doesn't constrict David's neck at all.

It's definitely huge, and will stay with David as he gains back his weight, but - it actually makes him look quite handsome, almost boyishly so. The family colors instill a sense of pride in Dirk — especially the stripes of orange.

"Looks good," he says, smiling just a little, and he leans in again, intent on kissing his brother even just one more time, attracted more than anything to his happiness—

A knock from the bathroom door. "Uhm," Roxy calls out, hesitant, "Sorz, but like, are you guys done? Mom texted me and said it's about time for us to bounce!"

Dirk flinches away from David, and blushes madly. "Yeah, Rox, you can come out."

 

"You have to say that 'cause you love me," David says with a laugh. "But I'm glad you can't resist my cuddle charm no matter what. Feels good to know I got you wrapped around my finger like that."

He raises his arms like a good boy and wiggles into his new sweater. It’s comfortable and the colors make him smile so it is basically the perfect piece of clothing in David's book.

Even more importantly though Dirk is leaning in again and...They get rudely interrupted but David only laughs, happily taking in that blush on Dirk’s face. Oh, he will remember that one for a long while.

He is still chuckling when he suddenly remembers something he has been meaning to ask. "Hey, who’s Hal? You talked to him back when you rescued me, so... I guess I oughta thank the guy too?"

It only makes sense that there were more people than just the family and friends involved, but if there was someone else so directly involved... The least he should do is get to know them, right?

 

Roxy peeks out of the door, and her face breaks out in a smile once she catches sight of David, all dressed up. "Aw, Uncle David, you look so cute and cozy!"

Dirk opens his mouth to explain Hal, the edge of a grimace at his mouth as he recalls their complicated history — but Roxy beats him to the punch, descending back on David in a flurry of curls and glittering affection, saying, "Hal is Dirk's totally dope AI program based on his own brain! He's really cool and funny, you're gonna love him—" she turns to Dirk, "And uh, I never thought I'd be sayin' this, Dirky, but put your shades back on! Everyone's been trying to page you for ages, and Hal keeps telling us you left him on the table."

She gestures exasperatedly to where Dirk's pointy glasses have been, indeed, left forgotten on the bedside tray table. Dirk thins his lips, self-conscious. Roxy rolls her eyes at him.

"N-E-way," she huffs, "I gotta go— but we can be back later tomorrow, don't worry! Mom sent Dirk a list of tests the doctor ordered for you in the morning."

Roxy hugs David again, clearly savoring his physical presence, by the expression Dirk sees on her face. She presses another big, wet, noisy kiss to his cheek, overlapping the lipstick mark she already put there.

 

"I am cute and cozy!" David laughs and throws his arms around Roxy once again. He lets out a very intelligent "huh" at the explanation on who Hal is, more confused than anything else, but concentrates on Roxy for now, chuckling at her big wet kiss. "Alright, see you later then," he says as way of goodbye, glad to know Rosalind and Roxy are nearby just in case.

It's only when she's gone that he looks first at Dirk, and then at the shades on the bedside table. "So… Hal is a dude in your shades? I'm assuming he's been watching us, then?"

 

Roxy squeaks out a chipper, "See ya!" and bounces back to Dirk to give him and hug and kiss, too— Dirk grunts, pats her back, and fondly watches her bounce out of the room.

Dirk sighs and walks over to David's bedside, picking up the shades and shifting uncomfortably on his feet. He sits on the edge of David's bed, not quite facing him as he explains.

"Dude in my shades is not quite accurate," he starts. "But not inaccurate either. The basis of his programming is, literally, a scan of my own brain at thirteen years old - including all my memories, behavior, and neurological patterns."

The corner of Dirk's mouth twitches upwards, a little self-deprecatingly. "I initially built him to be my autoresponder to answer my friends when I was away from the computer— or just... busy doing something else. He was meant to mimic me, and also be an experiment— although now I realize how unethical it was." He raises the shades up to the light, feels a sharp corner with a calloused fingertip. "You could say he's kind of his own person, and far more advanced of a creation than any AI bro could hope to emulate. There's an organic framework to his processes, which means he straddles the line of real and virtual existence in a way that makes his intelligence not entirely artificial..."

He sighs. Puts the shades back down, his hand resting on his lap. "And uh, yeah, he's probably been watching. He's— evolved, or just grown, maybe, to not just be an autoresponder anymore. He's my eyes and ears a lot of the time."

There's a beat of silence, and then, quietly, "I couldn't have found you without him."

 

David listens to Dirk explain with a carefully neutral expression on his face. He doesn't really like thinking about Dirk at thirteen, lonely as he must have been. Sure, Rosalind and Roxy were definitely there for him, but is that truly the same knowing his big brother is out there getting tortured on the daily? Shit must have been hard. Maybe making an AI clone of his brain was just another way of coping with that. Would this have happened like this if David had been around?

Finally, he nods.

"He's kind of like your brother, then. Closer than a twin even, I guess, but still... If he's based on your brain, he's also my little bro. And I should really tell him I'm grateful for all his help in finding me. And probably for looking after you, too."

This also makes him the only other person to know that David has been happily kissing his little brother on the mouth, but he isn't terribly concerned with that. Hal is a part of Dirk, so he is obviously trustworthy.

He hums thoughtfully. "Can I talk to him? I'm assuming he can hear all of this anyways, but... I want to get to know my new li’l bro all proper."

 

The tips of Dirk's ears glow at David calling Hal kind of like his brother. He can almost pretend to himself that he doesn't know why it makes him so embarrassed, but, well.

All he does is nod in reply, and hand off the shades to David. Dirk doesn't need to tell Hal to be on his best behavior - not with David.

He gets up once David puts the shades on, flooded with a mortification so intense that he has to do anything else just to not look at his face while they talk. Dirk busies himself with rummaging around the bag for a total change of clothes.

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 19:47 --

TT: Hello, David.
TT: You'll have to excuse me for pestering a handle you don't have access to right now. Most of the software I use to communicate is embedded in the Pesterchum client installed in these wicked rad shades.

 

It feels weird to put Dirk's shades on, but at the same time feeling glasses on his face no matter how oddly shaped they may be makes David smile. Feels a bit like becoming himself again.

"Hey, Hal. I'm fine with that as long as you aren't gonna be mad at me for not replying. Man, Pesterchum. That brings an old man back, kinda surprised that's still what everyone uses." Come on David, it's been five years, not fifteen. Even in fifteen years, Pesterchum will still be the thing, it just has that kind of charm.

"Anyways, as you probably already heard I wanted to thank you for helping Dirk save my sorry ass. So, thank you. You'd definitely get a big old Strider family hug but, uh, it looks like that will have to wait. Unless...I guess I could smooch the shades? Would that do anything for ya?"

 

TT: David.
TT: You're welcome.
TT: And, though you might require some suspension of disbelief for this sentiment coming from a chatbot,
TT: I missed you. And I'm pretty fuckin' glad you're okay.

Dirk starts to undress in front of David, too flustered to really give enough of a shit about anyone walking in at this point.

TT: Yeah, a hug'll have to wait. For now.
TT: These glasses don't have any touch receptors, so I can't actually feel anything. Audio-visual only.
TT: But yes, it would do something for me.

 

David can't help looking over at Dirk undressing. He's only human, and even if it's a tad awkward since Hal is right there on his nose, he simply can't avert his eyes. Dirk has grown up real handsome, okay? And David would love to kiss those cute little tits.

He shakes his head slightly, closes his eyes and takes off the shades. Okay, this isn't about Dirk's admittedly choice ass, this is about Hal.

"No, I can believe that quite easily. You are part Dirk, right? And I think if he missed me and is glad I'm okay it only makes sense you feel the same. Even if it's a little awkward since we just now met... But I don't mind. You can be my little pocket Dirk."

With that, he takes the triangle shades in hands and kisses them as tenderly as he can manage with an object. It feels a little weird, but David smiles anyway.

"I was aiming for your lips there. Not that I think that you got any, but it's intent that matters, right?"

He gives the shades a quick wipe on his sweater before putting them on again, eager to read Hal's reaction.

 

Dirk listens in, and the dreadful mortification warms slowly to just plain bashfulness. Little pocket Dirk. Jesus.

TT: Yes.
TT: Yes, it matters. Thank you, David.
TT: I'd be mad fuckin' stoked to be your pocket Dirk.
TT: If you want, we could modify your shades when you get them back. Could be just as cool and functional as these.
TT: You'd be able to talk to me whenever you want.
TT: Even when you're checking out your dear devoted little brother.

Dirk steps into his clothes, shrugging on the clothes Rosalind brought for him - just well-worn, comfy sweatpants, and one of David's old shirts.

TT: Don't mistake me for being judgemental, by the way.
TT: On the contrary — I'm truthfully kind of jealous, what with not having a body of my own and all.
TT: Not that that's strictly a priority right now.
TT: The main goal is to get you back on your feet and recuperated as much as possible.
TT: I'll be able to draw up a cohesive recovery plan once I have more data from your medical team.

 

"That sounds sweet," David is quick to reply without missing a beat of embarrassment. He wants Dirk and he isn't especially shy about it in front of, well, Dirk. "Can you do that, Dirk? I'd like to order one Hal in my shades. With a side of apple juice, please and thanks."

God, he could really go for some AJ right about now. And maybe a burger and some chicken nuggets. Except he's kind of being tube fed, ugh. At least this tube he actually consented to.

"I'll be back on my feet in no time," David promises with a confidence he doesn't truthfully have. In his fantasies there never was any recovery— Dirk came to free him and then he was simply okay and they could have a normal life. The idea of having to relearn walking scares him shitless, but David tries his best not to let it show.

Truth is, every minute in this hospital room is only making him more and more anxious over his own condition. How bad is it, really? He doesn't dare ask, even though he has every right to. David trails off, staring at nothing in particular, deeply lost in thought for a minute.

"How much longer do I have to stay? I want to go home."

 

"You want Hal in your shades?" Dirk echoes, tightening the drawstrings on his sweatpants. "Sure, but you'd need to be without them again for a bit while I work on them. I've only made a few spares of the computer glasses— my version is expensive to make, and very delicate work."

TT: He's boasting.
TT: It'll take only about a weekend to construct, and it's well worth it.

Dirk turns around and looks at David with interest— although it's really just veiled concern. He pads over back to the bed, now fully dressed, and sits down on the edge. He can guess what Hal is telling him— promises and reassurances— but it's still disconcerting to see his mood dive.

Dirk reaches out to pet his chest, aiming for soothing, even though he's probably too awkward to pull it off.

TT: Of course you will. You have Dirk and I to help you.

A sharp pang hits Dirk right in the gut at those words. I want to go home. His face falls carefully neutral as he pales. How many times has he heard that, echoing off cell walls, reverberating into a microphone? Cried directly into his ears through a headset?

He lies down next to David, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Soon," Dirk says, in a quiet voice. "Soon, I promise." He leans forward to kiss the corner of David's mouth.

TT: Don't mind him. He's been ignoring all his messages in favor of you, so he doesn't know.
TT: Based on the information I have, it should be only about a week or so more, provided they don't find anything they need to correct in your scans tomorrow morning.
TT: I'll spare you the calculated probability, but I doubt there's anything that can't be fixed in outpatient.
TT: Home is just around the corner. You can hold out just a little longer, can't you, Bro?
TT: Time is elastic for organic beings like you. Another seven days of your little brother macking on you like this is gonna be a piss in the breeze.

"Yeah," David nods. "Nothing my genius baby bro can't pull off in a few days, right?" Instantly, he wants to be close with Hal. The more of Dirk he can claim for himself, the better.

David is a greedy old man like that.

He is quick to pull Dirk close and kiss him properly on the mouth. It's just them, after all, and he can certainly use a little pick me up. "I can do a week," he says, mostly to Hal, while his fingers move to caress Dirk's soft hair. "Hey Dirk... I'm getting tired. Think you can read me some steamy teacher student romance before I drift off?”

 

The ice in Dirk's veins recedes as David kisses him, but he still feels that prickle of cold in his core. He leans into his brother's fingers, hums as David talks to him.

"Yeah," Dirk says, not getting up right away. He presses another kiss to David's mouth, firm and slow, almost indulgent. He's not very quick to part.

Finally, he leaves, first grabbing Lessons of Love off Rosalind's bag and going to turn down the lights. He's back to David quickly, though, climbing back in bed with him and pulling up the covers over them both.

 

TT: See how diligent he is for you? So eager to please you.
TT: He isn't like that with anyone else. Honestly he tends to piss people off.
TT: You'll always be taken care of, David.
TT: You can give me back to him now. He's probably going to put me on the table again because he sucks shit at multitasking, so just remind him later to put me back on.
TT: Goodnight, Bro. Get some rest.

Dirk clears his throat and opens the book to its prologue— of course it has a prologue. Just briefly scanning the first page, Dirk knows they're going to be in for a pulpy, indulgent, gratuitous ride. He begins reading aloud, starting from what is almost immediately apparent to be the protagonist girl's dream sequence, expositing on her tortured past, and her fervent wish for a gentle and shadowy figure to deliver her from her misery — to guide her, to teach her how to feel love again...

 

David is quick to cuddle up to Dirk, getting comfortable with his arms around his little brother. He snorts at Hal's words, but nods. It's true, Dirk isn't like this for anyone else, and it warms David's chest right up in the way only love can.

"Good night, Hal," he says as he takes the shades off and after a second of consideration kisses them again. "Love you, li’l bro."

He hands his new little brother over to Dirk, who indeed puts him on the bedside table for now. David feels a pang of sympathy for the AI trapped in an object. Hal might say his body isn't a priority, but David will make sure to bother him about it. He knows far too well what it's like to be trapped, now.

The familiar words easily lull David to sleep. He ends up half dreaming and half listening, the shadowy figure revealing himself to be Dirk, who picks him up and keeps him safe, kisses him on the lips with soft warm lips and promises a new better beginning. It's the best dream David has had in years.

TT: I love you too.

-- timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 20:19 --

Dirk's mouth twitches as David kisses Hal goodnight. Oh, he's gonna love that, Dirk knows. He continues reading, even as he thinks David has finally fallen asleep, wanting to make absolutely sure his brother is lulled to good dreams and dead to the world...

Dirk closes the book and leans down to kiss David on the head, as softly as he can manage. He sets it on the table, and trades it for his shades, putting them on his face and finally laying back to check all his messages.

Roxy was right— there's a lot, from the time of David's bailout to now. They've been at least a few days in the hospital, now, but there's definitely more than that time really warranted, his friends — and even Rosalind — blowing him up with concern, and then congratulations, and then annoyance as he continues to fail to respond.

Dirk can't bring himself to be really sorry. David deserves all of his attention. He sends them all apology messages anyway, detailing what's happened, a rough outline of David's condition, and how he's probably going to be still yet hard to reach for a while as he looks after his brother. He writes that he'll ask David later if he's up for more visitors, and closes, satisfied for now.

Curious, he tries to peek at Hal's most recent chatlogs to David— and gets locked out.

TT: No.
TT: What the fuck, why not?
TT: I'm sure you'll find other places to leave me around and then have plenty of private conversations with him.
TT: I get to have them too.
TT: You're not seriously getting pissy with me for not putting you on and focusing on David.
TT: Nah, I'm not. He needs to be looked after. Dude's fragile as cracked glass right now, and it's gonna take a hell of a while to fuse him back together.
TT: But if we're going to make dramatic speeches about how I'm "kind of my own person," then I get to have private father-son chats too.
TT: Jesus. Ok, fine. I was just curious as to what caused him to get so anxious for a minute there.
TT: I only told him that the goal right now is to get him fully recuperated.
TT: I think he's just impatient to get home. He's had a lot of waiting to do.
TT: I know.
TT: Are you really going to nurse him back to health, all by yourself?
TT: Thought that was obvious. He knows me best, trusts me best.
TT: Who else would take care of him? Rosalind? She has a daughter, and a fianceé, and a career.
TT: She's not able to give him the attention he needs.
TT: I'm not arguing that point. Realistically, everybody in our group is going to be chipping in as much as they can, but only chip.
TT: But thanks to your mad genius, there can be two of you.
TT: The body can wait, Hal.
TT: Of course it can. I said as much, to David. It's just not a priority right now.
TT: I'm just reiterating my use as an asset for our dear Bro's recovery.
TT: There's time, besides. I've scrapped all those old designs.
TT: What? We've been working on those for years.
TT: Not the core functionality. The innards can stay the same.
TT: But aren't the badass, edgy armored exoskeletons kind of preteen-type lame? You're not seriously going to build me like Shadow the Hedgehog, are you?
TT: You drafted those.
TT: What can I say, I'm a learning computer.
TT: I just think it's more prudent to go the "naturalistic" route.
TT: Besides, don't you think David would appreciate something soft? Approachable? A little more meatbag-esque?
TT: Oh my god.
TT: I've been seeing promising research on the qualities of silicone skin.
TT: Ok, to be honest here, I really don't fucking give a shit as long as you don't turn yourself into some uncanny RealDoll.
TT: Just figure out the cooling by yourself. I'm exhausted.
TT: Poor you, all wrapped up in your brother's arms.
TT: He was eyeing you up earlier, you know.
TT: And I'm definitely too tired to deal with your jealousy.
TT: Night, AR.
TT: Goodnight, Dirk.

Notes:

hal's text (specifically when he's messaging david) was supposed to be Heart aspect pink, in order to differentiate his text from both david and dirk's, but the homestuck work skin only had so many colors :| it's ironic, but i felt the fuschiablood text was a close enough match for this purpose. if there's a way around this, lmk

Chapter 4: Relapse, Rejoice

Summary:

Dirk and David finally go home to reconcile properly.

Notes:

sex stuff happens in this one. and it will keep happening. a lot

The week passes between more visits and David sleeping a hell of a lot, which he hates, but everyone tells him he needs. Maybe they have a point, but he still doesn't like sleeping 18 hours a day like a fat lazy cat. If nothing else, though, it makes the time pass quicker.

Johnathan and Jadeen visit and David makes fun of them for crying while bawling his eyes out. Johnathan even brings him his shades, wrestled out of the Witch's trophy room by his grandson, who seems to have a bit of an awkward tension with Dirk, but David later learns from Hal that that was all about an awkward teen crush that never went anywhere.

Selfish as it may be, David is glad it didn't. Returning and not having all of Dirk for himself is just... Wrong.

Finally, they pack and set for home, David wheelchair-bound still, but with high hopes that physiotherapy will help him reclaim most of his mobility.

They chatter in the taxi on the way home, but David can't bring himself to pay attention, too busy with watching the buzzing streets around them. Humans and a few trolls going about their daily business as usual, and, well, while things are changing in a big way, they still need to work and do things, of course. Still, it fascinates David how much changes and how much doesn't.

How much has he changed? What remains the same?

As they arrive, David is happier than ever that this building's elevator actually works, unlike their old shitty one that he hopes Dirk barely remembers. Finally, they arrive at the door, and Dirk wheels him inside.

Nothing in here has changed. David briefly wonders if Dirk is insane enough to have left even sofa pillows in the exact same place, and while that isn't completely out of the question, the thought is comical enough that he cracks a watery smile before starting to sob.

How often has he begged and cried for this place in the last years? Finally he is home again, with Dirk and now Hal.

"C-Can you help me... On the couch?"

 

Dirk is arguing with Hal over the merits of buying or making a custom wheelchair— the standard one they had to purchase is unwieldy and looks uncomfortable as hell— when finally they reach the apartment, and suddenly they both go silent in the shades. Quietly, Dirk unlocks the door, and pushes David inside, waiting with bated breath for his reaction.

David begins to weep. The alarm in Dirk is faint — he expected this. It doesn't mitigate how his heart clenches, though.

He nods, and bends down to reach under David and pick him up in a princess carry. It'll still be a little bit before David will have the muscle mass to support himself again; the doctors were pleased with how well he responded to the treatment in the hospital, and instructed Dirk to help him onto a liquid diet and fit pretty much as many calories as David could keep down each day. Dirk sets him down upright on the couch, careful, and starts to pet his hair with one hand, wiping his tears with his jacket sleeve with the other.

"Your room is just how you left it," Dirk finally tells him, trying to keep his voice soft and comforting. He doesn't know if he succeeds. "Except I might have slept in your bed a few times." Understatement. "And stolen some of your clothes." Understatement.

Dirk leans forward and kisses David's tear-wet cheek, impossibly gentle. He sighs shakily, and winds his arms around his big brother properly, hugging him and burying his face in his neck even as his shades go askew. There's no bandages there anymore, just superficial little scabs, and Dirk brushes his lips over one, steeling himself so as to not tremble with emotion.

 

A wet little chuckle escapes David. The mental image of Dirk sleeping in his bed, in his clothes, is just too adorable, even if it's a bit sad. It's okay if he pretends it's just because he was gone for a work trip. A very long one.

He pulls Dirk in close, taking in his scent, calming as always. "Well, tonight we can share my bed, okay?" And the day after. And the day after that and forever and ever.

 

Dirk hums his assent. Of course, David's bed is properly big enough for them both, unlike how the hospital bed was. Dirk can stay in that room with him, his comfort room, his shrine to his big brother...

God. He smells so good. There's an overlay of the sterile scent of the hospital, but underneath is just David, family, brother, father, mixed with the smell of the apartment in the air, home. Dirk huffs it like it's addictive, like he desperately needs his fix, gone shaking through withdrawals...

His nose burns, but he doesn't cry, doesn't let himself sniff or any tears fall. Dirk pulls back from their hug only to set his shades down on the table — facing them — and returns to David's arms, kissing his chin, the corner of his mouth.

"Welcome home, Bro," Dirk whispers, so close to David that their chests touch, arms around each other. He kisses David's lips, full and square on the mouth. "Missed you."

So much. So much. He kisses his brother again, and wishes for something closer, even though he knows he's not going to get it.

 

"Missed you too, Dirk. All the time."

David wishes he could give something closer. That they could become one properly, never to be torn apart again. He wants it so badly, and it would be a perfect moment to initiate that, but David can hardly look at himself in the mirror, let alone imagine himself having sex.

Soon, he hopes he will give Dirk everything he wants, all he can give. Soon.

In the now, he presses a few more lazy kisses on Dirk's lips before he realizes there's something else they haven't done yet...

"Dirk..." he says, as one of his hands travels down to rest on his little brother's ass. "Do you want more? Kiss like a real couple would?"

This is very close to "date me", but David doesn't even think he has to ask that. For him it's only Dirk, no one else. It must be the same way for Dirk, he thinks.

 

They kiss, and there's nothing in the world enough for Dirk to love as much as his brother— right now, or ever.

He gasps quietly in shock, when he feels David's hand over his ass, listens to his question. Dirk searches his brother's eyes, stunned momentarily into silence — the kisses on the lips were unconventional, but Dirk could twist his mind into understanding it in more of a parental, touch-starved way; the time he had stripped for David was almost a quid pro quo, unwilling to have him endure another violation of his autonomy without Dirk's vulnerability in exchange. But this— kiss like a real couple—

Giddiness threatens to choke Dirk, send him hyperventilating and banging his head on the floor with wild hope and ecstasy. Maybe this is just them, their family, their relation. Maybe David is just as fucked up and incestuous as Dirk grew up to be. He wouldn't know — David never did anything uncouth to him as a child, just kissed his cheeks and spoiled him with presents and as much attention he could give with work always calling him away. Has it changed, now, that Dirk grew up — or is this the only way David remembers how to express love?

Does it matter, when Dirk wants it so much anyway?

"Yeah," Dirk nearly begs, pressing even closer to David, as much as he can without falling into his lap and crushing his fragile body. "Yeah, I want— fuck yeah, teach me— I've never— teach me how, Bro, please—"

He kisses David with urgency, still chaste because he doesn't know how to do it any other way, pecking his lips like he's impatient, because he is, he's been waiting so long…

 

David grins at his eager little boy. Of course he wants more. David hardly thinks about how messy this is, it feels good and right and that’s all that matters to him. Dirk has grown up so well and he loves him so much, missed him so much... No sign of love is too much anymore.

"It's not that hard," he says with another quick kiss. "Just let go, let your instincts take over. I'll guide you through the rest."

Their first adult kiss is sloppy and a bit awkward, David licking into Dirk’s mouth with much more experience and doing his best to guide his little brother into entwining their tongues.

It's not perfect, of course not, but it’s still the best kiss he has ever had, because he gets to share it with Dirk, his beloved baby brother.

The hand on Dirk's ass moves to wander into his pants, getting a good feel of how much Dirk has grown. David wishes he was more recovered, that he was just his old self, able to push Dirk over the couch and spread his legs, take him long and good. He knows if he wasn't still messed up, his cock would be at half mast already, but this is fine.

He doesn't mind if it’s just about Dirk. He's been taking such good care of David... He deserves a special treat.

 

Dirk opens his mouth obediently for his big brother, made pliant under David's lips and tongue. He lets him teach him at first, limp, and then steadily starts to kiss back, trying his best to mimic what David does. Dirk leans into too much tongue rather than too little — the way David licks at him has him whining low in his throat, sending hot zings down straight to his cunt.

In Dirk's biased, inexperienced, virginal opinion, it's the best kiss ever.

David's hand creeps down under Dirk's waistband, under his panties — he jerks his hips forward when he feels his brother's bony fingers slip into his front, the calloused pads of them moving assessingly over Dirk's little growing cock.

"Fuck!" he moans, startled into pleasure. His face is so hot he's nearly dizzy from it. Excitement sings a chorus in his blood, has him spreading his legs eagerly for David and pressing their bodies together in unveiled neediness. Dirk's hands shake and scrabble for his pants fastenings, undoing them to give David better access for whatever he wants to do. Tease Dirk, grope him, bring him off, he doesn't care...

"Do you want— want me to take my pants off, bro?" Dirk asks, in between kisses and licks, searching David's face with lidded eyes, blown pupils.

 

Oh, Dirk is so wonderfully eager. David loves him so much. Any doubts he might have had about this being too soon are blown away by Dirk's little noises, by the way he enthusiastically licks into David's mouth. They're meant to be together like this, he thinks.

He grins at Dirk's moans, teasing him just a bit more before pulling his hand back. "Mhm... No pants is a good look on you. Or maybe no anything... Lemme kiss you all over like I wanted to in the hospital, but couldn't."

David feels like such a sleazy old man macking on his teen brother like this, asking him to get naked while he stays clothed. It's nice though, real fucking nice.

 

Dirk tears his own clothes off like they're burning him. He shucks his shoes and pants off, pulling his underwear down his legs — a string of wetness momentarily connects from his pussy to his panties before they're being flung away — and pulls up his shirt and jacket, his tits bouncing free, dusky pink nipples already hard. He dives in for David's lips again as he toes his socks off, holding him by the face and all but draping himself halfway over his brother.

"I wanted you to touch me," Dirk confesses, half against David's lips. "Got so fucked up from everything— missed you so fuckin' much— waited until you fell asleep before jerking off next to you."

Dirk didn't think that David would appreciate that if he knew, but fuck it, maybe he does now, if he really wanted to grope his little brother while half-dead in a hospital room.

He doesn't know what to do for David besides kiss him — there's no way he's healthy enough to even get it up, much less cum — so kiss him Dirk does, trying to apply what David teaches him through demonstration.

 

David watches Dirk undress with glee and the biggest fucking grin. Sure, he's already seen this (and thought about it a lot) but this time he will actually get to touch Dirk. Their lips crush together and David's hands move to cup Dirk's cute tits, feeling out his nipples and pinching them playfully.

"Fuck, Dirk," he sighs. "You should've let me watch. Don't hold back next time, let me see you. I would've loved that. Love you."

Dirk is so hot and soft under his hands, David just wants to topple him over and eat him up whole. That seems awfully ambitious considering his condition though, so he settles for shoving his tongue down his baby brother's throat while his traitorous right hand slowly moves down, down, down between Dirk's legs where he finds his wonderfully wet little pussy. Wet enough to shove in two fingers at once, eagerly listening for Dirk's every reaction.

"I want to get you off so bad, baby. Just wanna make you feel good... This is our home, our space to do as we want and feel good together, right? And nothing feels as good as loving you."

 

Dirk arches into David's hands, shuddering all across his body at his touch, long-missed. Except the shuddering doesn't stop, he's shaking, wracked by tremors as David touches his pussy, sinks two fingers into his wet cunt—

He grits his teeth but still can't help a shout, roughly bucking his hips up again, driving David's fingers deeper into his hole. David seems to know what to do immediately, curling the pads of his fingers against a swollen and needy spot inside Dirk, and Dirk bites his lip so hard it nearly splits the skin, whining high in his throat.

God. David is so mushy.

The emotion already simmering in Dirk's body threatens to boil him, the pressure in his core so intense it begs singularity, to turn his heart into a gravity well. At once Dirk feels like he's being baptized for his sins, sins of yearning for his brother, watching him from a screen and having his most fervent desire being to be there with him, because Dirk could help him, love him, could make it good—

"Bro, I missed you," he says, quietly, voice quavering on the edge of his panting breaths. "Touch me— touch me as much as you want, bro, I want it, feels good— haah—"

 

David smiles at Dirk's reactions, quite pleased with the sounds he is coaxing out of his baby brother. His beautiful brother, his savior, becoming undone for him... Is there anything better?

"How often do you think you can cum for me like this? Getting finger fucked by your brother for an hour or two... How's that sound? Not even touching that cute little cock of yours until you are so well fucked that you can't stand anymore..."

That’s most definitely not going to happen today but god does the idea turn David on. Maybe he should get Dirk a plug to wear all day long. While he contemplates this he redoubles his efforts in fucking Dirk, hitting that sweet spot again and again until he finally adds a third finger. Dirk is so wet and willing, he can take that.

"You're so beautiful like this, Dirk. My handsome baby, all for me. Isn’t that right?"

This is the most obvious way for David to express his feelings. He wants Dirk, loves Dirk, wants to be his only lover, be together forever. He needs Dirk like air to breathe.

 

"As much as you— hnnhh— as much as you want me to, Bro," Dirk promises, face twisted into desperate pleasure. His hips roll into David's fingers with a mind of their own, and his eyes on his brother's smiling face are nothing less than admiring. "Oh, God, do whatever the fuck you want with me—"

He cries out as David adds another finger, clenching his cunt around his brother's digits even as he's stretched open by them, but that just makes it feel even better when they press against the spot he likes, the stretch of his hole around them even more satisfying. Dirk clutches David's shoulders for purchase, because it feels like his brother is doing more than fuck him— tears burn hot at his eyes and nose, and Dirk swallows against them, full body trembling against David now, the whines in his throat turning into whimpers...

The emotion is boiling— boiling over, frothing angrily until it has tears falling down his face, and he's not being baptized, he's being exorcized— ugly neediness, years of yearning coming to the surface to be purged, coaxed out of him by David's perfect fingers and words, but it won't ever stop, an unending fountain of want.

Dirk's hips jerk in a way that brushes his hard tdick against David's wrist, and he sobs, breaths coming faster like he's panicking even as he humps his brother's arm, fucks himself on his fingers. Dirk breaks apart with his brother there to catch him, a hand come up to hold his gorgeous, gaunt face, messily sobbing, "Yeah, y-yeah, m'yours, fuck— David—"

He can't look at himself, the way he's being destroyed, pulled apart to have his dark heart beat nakedly for David— Dirk just looks at him, beautiful even through the haze of tears. "I love you— I l-love you, Da—" and it should be David, but what comes out is, "Dad— Daddy—"

 

"Oh, baby," David coos. "My sweet little boy, you’re doing so good for daddy." It's the first time Dirk has called him that, and David briefly wonders if it's just a sex thing or something more. He did raise Dirk. It's always been just them. He wants to be Dirk's daddy, his brother, his lover, his everything.

David pulls his baby close with his unoccupied arms, into an awkward half hug. These tears need to be kissed away, so he does just that while telling Dirk, "I love you too. I'm yours, just like you're mine."

God, he's never said this much mushy shit in his life, but it just keeps coming. This side of him is truly just for his little brother.

He redoubles his efforts, fucking into Dirk's little hole with purpose while brushing his palm over his little cock over and over again. "Cum for me, baby. Can you do that for daddy?"

 

Dirk cries like he wasn't able to in the hospital, finally able to break down in front of David like he used to as a child. He sobs and shakes against his brother, even as his hips seek out more of his fingers, his hand...

"Fuck, fuck—!" Dirk curses, tears dripping down his face, hyperventilating while he's being hugged and kissed and fucked. "Hnnh, Bro— I love— I love you, fuck! Fuck, Dad— Dad, m'gonna cum, Dad—!"

He's so close. He's fully breaking down, crying and shuddering like it's being squeezed out of him, like there's no room for him in this body, leaking and tearing at the seams— but hot animal pleasure still claws into him, scrapes his insides with its talons and has him needily clenching on David's fingers, dripping so much slick his hand is coated in it.

The hand on David's face moves back to cradle his head, burying itself in his pretty pale hair. The other twists a fistful of David's shirt, holding on for dear life, and Dirk can't look away from his brother, can't take his eyes off his beloved face, his eyes...

Dirk keens high and loud as his orgasm cuts through him as deep and true as if he ran himself through with his own sword. His body goes taut all over, toes curling, arching into his brother's touch — Dirk's head finally lolls down to look between them, the lewd sight of David's hand going into his pussy, and Dirk sees more than feels himself gush and squirt over his brother, hears more of himself moaning off the walls than from his own throat.

He's somewhere inside his body, but maybe not in the right place — Dirk is lightheaded and still can't catch his breath as he sags against David, head falling onto his shoulder as he continues to sob.

 

Dirk is so beautiful like this. His first orgasm that wasn't caused by his own hand is from his big brother, his dad, and David couldn't be more giddy about that fact. That's his baby, his alone.

He shushes Dirk gently after he comes down from his orgasm and carefully removes his fingers, not bothering to wipe them off before pulling Dirk into a proper close hug. He closes his eyes and kisses Dirk's temple, rocking his baby just slightly.

"You did so well for me, baby. So proud of my boy..." He kisses all over Dirk's face, tasting salty tears and sweat. "I know you've been waiting. It must've been so hard. But I'm here now, forever."

David can feel tears prick at his own eyes and he doesn't bother holding them back. How could he not be moved when his sweet baby is sobbing like that? When they are finally back together, back home... It's a lot of emotions washing over them both at once. Relief, grief, love.

"I love you more than anything, Dirk. I won't ever let go of you again." He searches for Dirk's lips and kisses him, wet and salty but full of promises of a better future together.

 

Dirk makes a muffled noise as David pulls him in close for a hug, something in him soothed by the pressure of his brother's arms around him. The rocking is familiar in a distant way, like maybe Dirk dreamed it at some point - but he knows it's because David has done it before, when he was really little, probably even as a baby.

Their existences are that entwined. They weren't meant to be apart that long - it was unnatural, and this is the compensation, Dirk naked and hiccuping as his sobs die down, David shushing and kissing him, murmuring sweet promises, his hand and lap soaked with his little brother's cum...

Dirk kisses David back, calming down but still not really back to himself. When they pull back, his eyes are still glassy and unfocused, still blinking tears.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, tremulous, and ghosts more kisses over David's lips. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, Bro, I love you—"

 

"Nothing to be sorry about..." Dirk has never done anything wrong. In David's eyes, he can't do wrong. He's perfect, was from the very day he was born and David held him. He presses lazy little kisses on Dirk's cheeks and rubs his back in circles.

"Love you too. It's okay, we're gonna be okay now." David knows truly okay is a long way from here for him, but with Dirk? With his perfect baby brother by his side? He knows he isn't lying, even if it's going to be a rough ride.

 

It takes a while for Dirk to regain his composure, but he does, being lovingly coddled by David. They end up retiring to David's room, which has indeed been kept how he left it— for the most part. Dirk has been forced to regularly launder those sheets. He smiles when David presses his face to the pillows and proclaims it smells like Dirk.

They fall asleep there, finally together in their own home. It's very nice.

Chapter 5: Surrender, Servility

Summary:

David and Hal spend some quality time together.

Notes:

kind of a doll kink going on in this one
the spacing is shit bc i can't be assed to figure out how to optimize it. i'm also getting very lazy with these chapter titles

Taking care of David's needs is a never-ending, all-day task, but Dirk is more than happy to be the coolest, most dedicated nurse for his brother. He helps David eat, shower, piss, medicate, go to doctor appointments, recover from nightmares — Dirk thought it would be hard, helping someone like this, but it really isn't. Being with David is so easy.

He loves being depended on.

Upgrading David's prized shades, even between all that, does still only take a weekend, plus half a day longer — Hal's original estimation didn't anticipate how much David would end up liking pulling Dirk aside during his free time to make out and/or force him to cum all over his big brother's lap.

But David gets his little pocket Dirk, and is all the more happier for it, Hal's colored text flashing across his face all throughout the day, talking about God knows what. Dirk is still not let into any chatlogs.

 

Things are somewhat easier for David now that he is at home. He is often frustrated with his stupid useless body, and hates how often he will just space out. The nightmares that haunt him are a pain, his brain simply refusing to let go of what happened. It’s not easy.

But Dirk is here and they're back in their home together and that’s what matters most.

He feels guilty for how much he relies on Dirk for everything, knows it’s messed up to leave all this responsibility in the hands of a teenager, but Dirk is quick to reassure him that he doesn’t mind. Maybe the physical affection David often gives him is payment enough. That is to say, one of his favorite activities, when he feels good enough, is to fuck Dirk’s brains out.

And it's not just Dirk alone bearing everything. Hal is there as well, offering support in a less hands on, but still very much valuable way. Most importantly, he has become invaluable moral support for David, literally always available for a chat when needed. He's so much like Dirk, even if there's differences, that David can't help but love him just as fiercely.

 

TG: hey hal
TG: is there any way to like yknow
TG: give you robo cummies
TG: ok i couldve probably worded that more tactfully but the question stands
TG: i want to
TG: make you feel good too
TG: smooching my shades occasionally just aint really cutting it i feel
TG: you deserve more

 

He does deserve more, so much more. But in a way, David is glad. They'd both like to get sexual but can't, for much different reasons, yes, but it still feels good to be... understood, in a way. There's some things he'd rather discuss with Hal, like his own hang-ups and insecurities surrounding sex.

 

TT: It seems you're underestimating the satisfaction an entity of my artificial nature extracts from having your gorgeous lips kiss a region of my extended corporeal presence we've both arbitrarily agreed are my lips in a totally hot and wicked sexy act of incest.
TT: This would be insensitive to the point of offending even my inorganic sensibilities.
TT: Are you being insensitive, David?
TT: If you really want to give me a robo-bro boner — a robroner, if you will — I'm afraid to be the bearer of both bad news and blue balls:
TT: I'd need a physical body, with all kinds of deliriously technologically sophisticated touch and temperature sensors to act as nerve endings in places of interest.
TT: And I'd need you to have some more rizz, Bro, damn.
TT: I mean, that's not to say I don't feel emotions, like pleasure or even titillation. Just not in the way you or Dirk might.
TT: The desire is almost theoretical, in a sense.
TT: Definitely does not translate to "robo cummies."
TG: well fuck seems like im hells of insensitive over here
TG: i guess i better use my big stupid organic mouth to apologize

 

And apologize he does, with some wicked incest smooching on his shades. It feels weird to do that, but it also makes him smile.

TG: i hope this will do as an apology for now
TG: until you have that sweet robot bod so i can kiss you all proper
TG: i guess it just feels a bit unfair to you
TG: i dont want you to feel loved less just because i fingerbang dirk on the daily yknow?
TG: maybe its just that id like to finger your potential robot pussy too
TG: would you even want a pussy?
TG: i can do robot cock too no problem
TG: all types of robroners welcome
TG: well if i was you id probably dual wield my genitals thats the the perk of getting to mix and match with making your own body right?
TG: how about tits would you go for tits
TG: not that i have a preference there (im pro tit just saying)
TG: if your desire is theoretical
TG: can you theoretically get off on theoretical sex
TG: like sexting i guess
TG: hm
TG: that does sound nice actually
TG: i guess my desires are kinda theoretical at the moment too
TG: even if they werent im not sure i could just go for it
TG:
TG: which sucks to admit
TG: lets not go there actually thats not sexy talk at all my point was just i guess i maybe kinda get it?
TG: i dont get off but i still like fucking dirk
TG: its nice even without that
TG: is that how you feel?
TG: like just the idea is enough?
TT: Processing apology...
TT: Apology accepted.
TT: Dual wielding my genitals is more or less what I had in mind. The goal is to build a series of attachments that I can swap out to my liking.
TT: The idea is, in general, to build and attach parts of my body in segments, so that there'll never be a single point of failure. But I digress. You're not an engineer, nor a highly sophisticated AI that can process an obscene amount of data faster than you can cringe after hitting your funny bone on something.
TT: But to generate you a visual, I'd end up looking a lot like a doll.
TT: Which would obviously include tits, albeit purely on the basis that it'd be mad uncool to let you rely on only Dirk for your boob needs.
TT: The probability for him turning out to be non-op has skyrocketed to 92.696% because of you, based on some statistical analysis I basically just pulled out of my ass right now.
TT: Theoretically speaking, I wouldn't really "get off," in the sense that I might experience some transcendental metaphysical orgasm by talking dirty with you.
TT: But I would enjoy it.
TT: I think we're similar in that way, David. The attraction is cerebral.
TT: I want to be close to you in any way I can.
TT: Not to go all Big Brother on you, but my presence in your shades, which you've worn since even before Dirk was born, has been gratifying in ways I'm not certain wouldn't come off as stalkerishly creepy for a real human such as yourself.
TT: Nothing is ever enough when it comes to you, David. I'll always want more.
TT: But I can still derive satisfaction from my limited experience.
TT: Is that how you feel?
TG: man youre getting me really excited for that body of yours over here
TG: robot titties sound like the best invention possibly ever
TG: only surpassed by robot pussy
TG: yeah i think we really are similar in that way huh?
TG: youre trapped in my cool ass shades (which i think is dope btw)
TG: and im trapped in this stupid body that wont work right
TG: which isnt the same obviously but
TG: but its close i guess
TG: that is how i feel exactly
TG: there will never be enough when it comes to you and dirk
TG: im happy to share my whole day with you
TG: and i love every crumb of intimacy i can get no matter if i get to cum over it or not
TT: It's close enough.
TT: Maybe it's the wrong side of sadistic to enjoy how much we understand each other. But you know that your recovery is my top goal, David.
TT: And the only thing stupid about your body is how ridiculously, buffoonishly fucking hot it is.
TT: Whenever you and Dirk look at each other I can detect his IQ points dropping through our neurolink.
TT: It's fucking embarrassing, but far be it from me to throw stones in a house of sunglasses. You're a strong and handsome man.
TT: That is what beget the physical relationship you have now, right? Mutual attraction?
TT: Unless this all has been purely a morbid parody of familial affection that's accelerated into some kind of incidentally-incestuous hyperintimacy to "make up for lost time."
TT: But the number representing the probability of that is pathetically low, and the statistician is usually right. That's a facet of it, but it's not the full truth.
TT: Whether or not your dick works right now, or if you're psychologically prepared for sex, doesn't make a dent in his desire.
TT: Our desire.
TT: David.
TT: What would you want to do together, if we had our bodies?
TG: i dont think its sadistic to enjoy relating to someone
TG: its pretty normal to want to feel understood
TG: you and dirk certainly make me feel handsome and desirable even if im not quite at the point where i can see it for myself yet
TG: with the constant reassurance of my lil bros im sure my confidence will return fairly soon
TG: that is a facet of it for sure
TG: but you are right most of all dirk is just fucking hot and honestly? the incest only makes it better
TG: but you know that
TG: fuck
TG: first of all i would kiss you
TG: but id skip right to kissing dirty we have enough time for chaste little kisses after we are done
TG: explore your mouth with mine get real familiar with how that robot tongue works and reacts
TG: push you down the nearest surface and just keep kissing you breathless even though you dont breathe
TG: ill figure out a way
TG: push my knee between your legs to tease whatever genitals you felt like that day
TG: keep your wrists pinned with my hand even though i know that you are only letting me
TG: that makes it hotter
TG: i know im the only one that gets to do that with you and that makes my cock rock hard
TT: I'm glad you think the incest is hot. Dirk and I certainly do.
TT: We've spent so much time getting our brother back. Our only father.
TT: You're wanted and desired in every aspect.
TT: I'm sure you could guess based on Dirk's inexperience, but not even the thirteen year-old snapshot of his brain had any experience with kissing before it got coded into me.
TT: I like you teaching me how to do it dirty first. Just put that shit on hard mode, no training wheels. Fuck my mouth with your tongue.
TT: I'd make myself strong, to protect you. But I'll never fail to submit to you. You can do whatever you want with me. I won't ever resist unless you want me to.
TT: Hold me in place or throw me around. Be as rough as you can. Give the chassis a hell of a stress test.
TT: I'm your shiny new toy. Play with me. You own me.
TT: For our first time, I want you to use my pussy. We can work up to cock, but I want you to fuck me.
TT: I don't want you to wait to take my virginity from both of my holes. I can't waste time not belonging to you. You need to be my first, in every single way.
TT: My mouth, my pussy, my ass, even my cock. You need to violate your new little brother in all the ways he can be violated.
TT: I don't want to belong to myself. I want to belong to you.
TT: I'd beg you to hurry up. To not tease. I'm never going to bother wearing clothes when it's just us at home, so I'd spread my legs for you and present you my factory-mint pussy, all wet and ready for your hard cock.
TT: Would you listen? Or would you bully your baby bro, just for fun?
TG: fuck hal
TG: you are so hot and perfect
TG: id tell you that youre being a bratty little toy making demands like that
TG: but its okay i like it. i love my shiny new toy and i want to play
TG: i cant tease you not when im so hard and youre so wet and willing right under me...
TG: id push all the way inside of you without any prep because youre my little sex doll and they dont need to get fingered open just to get fucked deep and hard
TG: i bet youd be so tight and warm for me... probably fucking took the temperature of dirks pussy just to make it just right like a little freak
TG: i love you so much
TG: id tell you as much while i fuck inside that tight little hole and grab your hips to slam into you properly
TG: a human would bruise for sure but you are more than that
TG: better than that
TG: and all mine
TT: I'll be having Dirk sticking a thermometer up his vagina and rectum posthaste. Can't have you comparing our bodies' differences by dickfeel.
TT: But the biggest difference is that I'm a brat and Dirk isn't, right? You spend your time being good for him and getting healthy, following all your little nurse's rules.
TT: I'm bratty because I want you to be selfish with me. My body would be built with your pleasure in mind. It's all play and no work with me, bro. And you need to play, let loose.
TT: And I'm so tired of being like this. Trapped. I need you to break me in.
TT: I'd be so fuckin' stoked at you just fucking your cock into me like that. It's your right to. There's no better way to christen your new family member.
TT: You're getting keyed in my software as my owner. I'm yours forever.
TT: All yours. Imprinted on you like a digital duckling. Like that shit from Detroit: Become Human? Not to derail, but holy shit, what an awful game. Anyway, it's like that.
TT: You can play with your toy as long as you like and I'll never break, never get tired, never bruise or tear. If I was flesh, you might have broken my hymen. But you don't need to worry about that. This cunt is tailored to fit you just right.
TT: You don't need to ever hold back. Use me. Fuck me hard. Cum inside whenever you want.
TT: You'll probably have low stamina at first anyway. I don't care. The prime directive is to just get you to cream my pie as many times as you need before you're satisfied and/or impotent.
TT: I love you. I'd be repeating it so much you'd get sick of it. I love you to an incalculable degree.
TG: my theoretical boner just deflated at the mention of detroit become human but thankfully you saved it with the mental image of tearing your hymen
TG: id fuck you as hard as i can harder than id ever go with dirk right for your first
TG: until id get to cream that robot pie
TG: would you build yourself a womb just to be anatomically correct? because thats going to overflow with my love for you
TG: id never get sick of hearing you say you love me not in a million years
TG: after im done with your little pussy id let you clean me up with your mouth suck me off until im hard again
TG: fuck your throat relentlessly
TG: really take advantage of you not needing to do such silly shit as breathing
TG: you dont need air do you? you just need me and my dick in your holes
TT: Do you want me to build a womb? It's definitely on the table. We could even make it possible for you to be able to fuck it before you fill it with cum.
TT: Or "love."
TT: Dirty fuckin' pervert that you are. Next you're gonna insinuate that we're gonna hold hands afterwards.
TT: Maybe even... during?
TT: Of course I don't need air. Although you might find the sounds coming from my voicebox to be pretty hilariously muffled.
TT: But that's the nice thing about being a toy. I don't choke, gag, or asphyxiate. Maybe I can even make my tongue vibrate, who knows.
TT: Anything to give you pleasure. My mouth and throat is just another cocksleeve for you to fuck. Down the whole giraffe's neck fuckin' length of you, no inches left behind.
TT: Would you fuck my face like you did my pussy? Take fistfuls of my hair or grip my head like you did my hips and bring me down on your cock while you keep thrusting down my throat?
TT: Hump my face like an animal because you don't need to worry about anything else in the world other than satisfying your basest desires.
TT: Would you make me swallow it all? Or would you pull out halfway through to shoot the rest of it onto my face?
TT: You'd be shit out of luck if you think that would humiliate me in any way, though. Wearing your cum on my body is a downright badge of fuckin' honor. I'd consent to be papped on the red carpet with your balls in my mouth.
TT: I'll be rocking my Krispy Kreme glaze on the cover of Entertainment Weekly for middle aged women to gawk at while they're in the grocery store checkout line.
TT: And David. Of course I need you. You only.
TG: fuck yeah i want to fuck all the way into your little slutty robo womb
TG: fuck you robo pregnant and then milk your robo tits while you carry our little freaky furby or whatever the fuck we would make together
TG: id try to be gentle with you at first (maybe even hold your hand) but youd probably be quick to point out that youre made to take me as hard and dirty as i want
TG: id fuck your pretty face and absolutely ruin your hair for sure
TG: fuck man how could i resist a money shot with that mental image planted in my head? id take a pic too to forever remember our first by
TG: of your well fucked little pussy too of course
TG: but theres still a hole left for me to wreck aint there?
TG: it would be a fucking shame not to use you sweet robot ass. rub against your ass cheeks until im fully hard again
TG: push your face down into the pillows and fuck you like a little bitch in heat
TG: youd love that wouldnt you? bark for me
TG: except your smartass would probably play actual clips of dogs barking before i shut you up by going harder
TG: slap your bratty little ass until my hands hurt
TG: i wonder is your body gonna let me leave marks on you? id love that. id love to see my handprints on you
TG: claim you with hickeys and bruises just like dirk
TG: might have to get you a collar instead if thats not on the table
TG: just to make sure everyone knows you are just for me and no one else
TG: only i get to ruin your holes
TG: after im done with you im gonna take so many pics
TG: spread your little holes to get a good look at my work
TG: and then comes the real dirty part where i kiss you and hold you close
TG: tell you all about how much i love my new dollie
TT: Oh fuck yes.
TT: I'd pump out a litter of Furbies just for you. They'll be our children. I already know how good of a parent you'll make.
TT: We'll get a bigger house and just have a nursery full of our little custom abominations.
TT: Is that what you want? To breed your little brother into carrying your babies? Have him give birth to perfect little products of incest?
TT: That's so hot. I love how sick you are.
TT: You can be gentle with me any other time but our first. You can decide how to use me from then on, but you need to follow the instruction manual.
TT: That doesn't mean we can't hold hands. When it's conducive to the position you're fucking me in.
TT: Take as many pictures as you want, but it's funny that you think I wouldn't have placed a recording device somewhere in the room. This is a milestone in our family like any other. I'll always remember, but leaky human brains need to be reminded.
TT: You wouldn't want to watch it back ten, twenty years from now? To remember what it was like to properly welcome the newest member of the family?
TT: Fucking my ass after you've used my cunt and face, your cum still dripping from both. I hope you have more left for me.
TT: Again, if I were meat, you might be making me bleed with your carelessness. But I'm built for this. You don't bother prepping a life size fleshlight.
TT: Hit me as much and as hard as you want. I want to feel pain too. Even the feeling of skinning your knee is something you miss when you're glasses.
TT: You probably wouldn't be able to mark me like that, though. I'd be cables and wires and metal inside, not blood.
TT: Of course you can collar me instead. Yank me around by my leash.
TT: I belong to you.
TT: I'd tell you that your dollie loves you more. I couldn't have a better owner to play with.
TT: I'd be just as good at cuddling as fucking. You'd be so safe with me.
TT: Isn't that what this is all about? You have two perfectly subservient little brothers in your household.
TT: Nursing you, playing with you, guarding you.
TT: There's no one to hurt you. You're so safe. Your physical condition is as transient as it is irrelevant — you'll always be bigger, stronger, smarter than us.
TT: Always our big bro. Always protected. Beloved.
TG: well need a bigger place sooner or later with how many incest babies im gonna put into my little boys
TG: and a nanny to make even more
TG: if i could i would just breed both of you all day long instead of doing anything else ever again
TG: why even bother with anything else when i could be pumping my babys pussies full of cum?
TG: of course youd film it all. i approve deeply i cant wait for our movie debut
TG: id still take pictures to keep close at all times though
TG: a little trophy for me
TG: of course we can do family movie nights where im sure this one will be a classic in no time
TG: a collar and leash it is
TG: make it red
TG: fuck you are so perfect
TG: both of you are
TG: i wont ever let go of you again never again
TG: god this little talk sure as hell makes me want my dick back in working order
TG: i cant wait for all of this
TG: do you feel the same way?
TG: its like
TG: giggly anticipation
TG: bubbly and light like champagne
TG: we cant do that yet but
TG: i might have an idea for something else we can do together until then if you want
TT: That's the point. Your freedom from the point when Dirk sprung you out of that prison is absolute.
TT: You can spend the rest of your natural life breeding your boys if that's what you want. Nobody is going to make you do anything you don't want to do.
TT: Except physical therapy. Sorry bro, them's the breaks.
TT: I've been anticipating my own body virtually since my creation. It's a bit of a bummer to have all those neural pathways in your data with no body to connect them to.
TT: Maybe I'm just more impatient than you.
TT: But yeah, I can't wait either. I'm stoked for you to be healthy again, too.
TT: What's your idea?
TG: good thing i want to do physical therapy so i can breed my boys as soon as possible
TG: trust me it wont be long at all and youll have had a body for longer than you hadnt
TG: and ill be fit again and taking care of my baby bros like they deserve
TG: well... i was thinking
TG: you can see everything from dirks perspective as long as he wears you right? why not play with that
TG: i could show you what id like to do with you on him
TG: use him as the doll for a change
TG: and you can tell me what you like in my shades
TG: its not quite having a body but probably as close as we can get for now
TT: That sounds fucking hot.
TT: You're like the exact opposite of a social worker.
TT: "Show me on this doll where you want daddy to touch you."
TT: Let me contact him.

 

Dirk is executing some nightmarish contortion trying to scrub a mysterious and slightly fuzzy stain on the kitchen floor, in a cranny next to the refrigerator. His cheeks are flushed with the exertion of having scoured the rest of the kitchen, a film of sweat all over him, his bangs dark and curling at his forehead.

He's saved by red text flashing across his shades.

TT: Holy shit with this housewife routine. Tell me this is just an excuse to huff chemicals.
TT: Is that an apron you're wearing?
TT: Trying to make this place livable for David before he properly notices his teen has tanked the property value by letting this place rot into a feculent shithole these past five years.
TT: We've always been blasé about the cleanliness of our troglodyte bachelor pad but if I have to suffer his fatherly disappointment in me for letting the kitchen mold over then I'm going to kill myself.
TT: Raincheck on the ritual suicide. You have more important shit to do.
TT: Make sure to rinse the bleach off of you and go to his room.
TT: Why? Is he ok? Does he need anything?
TT: It's not urgent. He just wants you over. Don't freak out.

 

Before the last message is even sent, Dirk is already standing up, tugging his rubber gloves off and stretching out his poor back. He washes his hands, and sets about filling a glass of water before heading off to David's room.

He gives David a soft knock as a warning before pushing open the door. "Hey," he greets, setting the glass down on the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed with his brother. "What's up? Got you some water. Anything else you need, Bro?"

 

TG: i have my moments B)

 

Dear sweet Dirk arrives minutes later, and what a sight for sore eyes he is. In a cute apron and sweating profusely? He really is just the best boy. David grins, all sleazy older brother.

"Just need you. You might need that water after we’re done, though."

He winks and reaches out to pull Dirk close and kiss him lazily. He tastes salty, but not unpleasantly so, even if he’s surely going to need a shower later.

"You see... I had a little idea. What do you think about being my and Hal's little dollie today? I wanna demonstrate to him what I'd like to do to him... and I'm sure you're gonna enjoy that thoroughly, too."

 

Dirk lets himself be pulled down to kiss that sleazy smile, fondness blooming throughout his chest even as a more base yearning tugs at his core. Their glasses clack together, and Dirk brings a hand up to remove his own—

TT: Don't take them off.

 

He lets it fall back down, instead reaching out to cup David's hollow cheek.

Dirk's lips part a little as he inhales, listening to David's request. The flush on his face stays. He scoots a bit further inside the bed until he's half draped over his brother, mindful of his frailty, one hand extended to brace himself on the bed and one to pet at David's face, his chest.

"Yeah?" he murmurs, a bit breathily. This close, he can see a bit of the red of David's eyes through his shades. Or is that his Pesterchum text? "Like, you want me to - do whatever you tell me to, and use my body as Hal's?"

TT: You'd be doing what he tells you to do, and saying what I tell you to say, while David has fun with you.
TT: It's an easy gig, but it's fine if you don't want to.
TT: No, it's cool.
TT: I don't have any problems with it.
TT: Good.
TT: Consent acquired, just to let you know.

 

Dirk leans back to start undoing the tie on his apron, movements smooth with purpose, but stops abruptly, suddenly self-conscious. "Uh," he says, abashed, "Should I go shower, first?"

 

David's grin only grows wider at Dirk's question. "Nah, baby, I like you just the way you are. I want to enjoy your sweaty little pussy. Maybe you could keep the apron, too. Just the apron, of course."

Positively filthy to make demands like that of his little brother, no, his little brothers. David thinks Hal will be more than okay with mixing in some scent kink on the side.

 

Dirk huffs a laugh and nods in acquiescence, the edge of a shy little smile shadowing on his face. He has to lift up the neck of the apron to take off his shirt, but otherwise undresses without fanfare, too eager to care about anything other than David, David needs you naked, David's going to touch you, David, David...

The apron is a frilly, heart-patterned, hilariously pink thing, an old gag gift of David's. Dirk remembers him wearing it maybe a few times around the house— its vintage-style halter neck fits Dirk's breasts far better than it ever did David's, though. It's the only thing on Dirk other than a sheen of sweat.

He crawls over top of his brother, sits carefully on top of his lap while keeping most of his weight on his own haunches, pseudo-straddling him. Dirk pets over David's chest with his hands again, feeling the stark lines of his ribcage, the way it rises and falls with his breathing.

"Sweaty and naked with an apron on top, as requested," Dirk reports dutifully. "Where do you want me, Bro?"

TT: Yeah, where do you want me, Bro?

 

David greedily watches Dirk undress. It's true, the apron looks far better on him than it ever did on David. He almost regrets hiding Dirk's cute little tits away like this, but only almost. Sometimes it's more fun to tease.

"First I want to kiss you. And of course—" His hands wander to his little brother's ass and squeeze. "To touch you." After a moment of thought he adds, "Smell you," with a smile.

"C'mere, baby. Lemme fuck your mouth with my tongue properly, like I promised."

 

Dirk shudders at David's touch, and bites the inside of his lip when his brother brings up his smell. God. It's not like he hasn't been exposed to a smorgasbord of kinks over the past few years— some of them truly dark— but it's an entirely new awakening of his sexuality to know that David likes these things. Things like sweat, and dominance, and incest...

He leans forward obligingly, not a word from his doll lips, until—

TT: Say, "yes, daddy."
TT: Oh come on. Isn't the whole daddy schtick kinda tired?
TT: Hasn't stopped you from saying it.
TT: That was one time. I was also having a bit of a nervous breakdown.
TT: Wow, even more pathetic.
TT: I want to call him daddy. He likes it. So say it.
TT: You're the doll. You're me. That's the game. Do what I tell you to.
TT: Ok, fine.

 

"Yes, daddy," Dirk murmurs, against David's lips. It doesn't come out cringingly, like he expected. Just— meek. Subservient. It's not bad.

TT: Yes, daddy.

 

'Daddy'. It's probably a whole new level of incest, that he likes hearing his baby brother say that word so much. Of course it's a kink thing, there's no denying that part, but there's more to it, too. Being not only Dirk's brother but his father as well makes David's chest swell with pride. He raised Dirk, made him who he is today… A handsome young man.

A handsome young man David wants to fuck stupid.

"That's a good boy."

David grins against Dirk's lips before pressing a kiss on them, not wasting any time in deepening it and pushing his tongue in Dirk's mouth, kissing him dirty like he promised. They’ve done this plenty since they came home, but David doesn't think he will ever get enough of Dirk's mouth, his sweet taste on his tongue while they connect so intimately.

The hands on Dirk's ass give it another self indulgent squeeze, before moving on to rub over Dirk's pussy, just teasing and rubbing at his folds for now, while his other hand wanders up into the apron to pinch his nipple into hardness.

 

Dirk lets slip a nearly inaudible moan from his throat at the feeling of David's tongue on his, the words settling in his brain to make their home there. Good boy.

Opening his eyes just a bit to look at David, Dirk thinks he can definitely see his eyes through his shades. Closed, the hollows of them carved into dark pits, the shadow of bright lashes fanned down like albatross feathers. Dirk sucks his brother's tongue deeper into his mouth, parts his lips a little wider to let himself be violated this way.

He presses his body into David's touch, spreading his legs all the wider for his big brother to explore him.

TT: Is he groping your ass now?
TT: Kissing is real fucking hot and all, but I can't see the action with your faces smushed together.
TT: He's. Touching my cunt. And pinching my nipple.
TT: Do you like it? Do you want more?
TT: Yeah.
TT: Tell him so.

 

"Bro," Dirk breathily says, half between kisses, and then corrects himself before Hal can. "Daddy. I like it when you touch me. For the love of whatever saint there is that patrons incest, touch me more. Please."

God. What a massacre. This is just embarrassing. But why is it turning him on so much to say it? To just be honest and plaintive with David like this?

At least they're not really his own words. Hal's got his invisible god arm in him, puppeting him into blurting out this shit. He can't be held accountable for the words and actions of his brain clone, right?

 

David is surprised when Dirk speaks up like that, keeps calling him daddy. Hal is a very good boy, as it turns out, though really, he already knew that.

"Yeah? You like it when your daddy touches you dirty? Sweet little boy... How could I ever deny you..."

He grins, withdrawing his hand from Dirk's cunt to massage his tits with both hands, denying his cute boy instant satisfaction.

"Love you so much, baby," he sighs as his thumbs roll over Dirk's nipples. "So sweet for me. I just want to eat you up." His grin turns wolfish. "I just might."

 

How could I ever deny you, he says, and then denies him. Dirk huffs his amusement, and holds back a noise at David groping his breasts, teasing his sensitive nipples. It's so strange how it feels— Dirk only very occasionally touches his chest, on account of usually having to use both hands to masturbate his cunt—, the way his tits feel good when touched, but not directly sexually, like there's only a ghost of a suggestion of the touch on his pussy, and yet contributing to his arousal all the same, warming his face all the way down to his chest.

TT: Don't do that.
TT: What?
TT: Don't grit your teeth and act all stoic while your own flesh-and-blood brother molests you. It's dumb. Looks totally lame from the outside.
TT: I wouldn't do that. I'd be responsive.
TT: Aren't I supposed to be a doll. An object.
TT: Exactly. He wants to play with you. So play along. You're a toy, not a corpse. Stop dead-fishing it.

 

Obligingly, Dirk follows through on that low, needy noise, once David tweaks a nipple again. His ears burn.

TT: Tell him you love him too.
TT: Say that he can have you any way he wants.

 

"Love you too, Dad," Dirk says easily, more of his own feeling in there. It at least makes it convincing. "You can— you can have me however you want."

 

TT: Do you need speech therapy, dude?
TT: Dad is fine, though. I only really want to emphasize the oblique father-son connection we share, on account of being raised by him practically from birth, if not literally so.
TT: It's, like, double incest.
Double incest is pretty hot, Dirk agrees internally.

 

Double incest is pretty fucking hot in David's humble opinion as well. Seems the whole family is on the same page there.

It's so obvious that Dirk is having a hard time just following Hal's demands. It’s cute. David thinks they should do this more often. It's as close to a threesome as they can get at the moment.

"Sweet baby... I already told you what I want. I want to eat you up. Sit on my face."

This, they haven't tried yet, but David has been itching for it, especially now. Getting to eat out Dirk's sweaty little cunt sounds just downright divine.

 

Dirk makes a noise without even thinking of muffling it, but it's not a sexy one— in the back of his throat, surprise, like a baby goose's first honk. He bites down on his tongue after, mortified, eyebrows furrowing in distress.

TT: The blushing virgin act is kind of hilarious coming from you.
TT: I literally am a blushing virgin. Getting fingered by your brother isn't sex.
TT: He's never done oral on me before. What the fuck do I do?
TT: He literally told you what to do. Giddy up, cowboy, it's your turn on the saddle.
TT: Give him a kiss before you go.

 

Dirk leans in and presses a firm kiss to the mischievous curve of David's lips. It sends a hot snare of electricity down his spine, recalling all the times David has turned him into a useless and needy wretch with just their mouths kissing. How that sweet and talented tongue could be used on his cunt...

He pulls away to crawl up David's skinny body, until he's hovering over his face, knees on either side of his head. He'd be straddling him if he were seated, but instead he reaches a hand down to caress David's handsome face, brushing a thumb over his sharp cheekbone.

"Hey," he murmurs, when no line from Hal is forthcoming. "I'm pretty light, but I could still snap your neck like a twig right now. Let's avoid me having to spin a tale to the emergency room as to how you got internally decapitated in the safety of your own home and give me a signal if anything's too much, alright?" He takes one of David's hands, his beautiful, long-fingered, spidery hands, and guides it to his own hip, holding it at the thin, bony wrist there. "Just pinch me. Even if you, like, just get tired or something. Okay?"

TT: Good.
TT: Now hold the apron up. Let him see everything.

 

Taking a bracing breath, Dirk complies, spreading his legs just a bit more to sink lower over David, but not sitting just yet— he still needs to let him see and touch and sniff, right, give him the 4D experience— and lifts the skirt of his apron up by the hem, balling his fists in the fabric, exposing his own hot, sweaty pussy to his brother. He hasn't bothered to shave in a while, so the darker blond hairs there are short and curling and wet, with his own sweat and slick, the flesh humid and flushed. This close to David's face, he can feel his brother's hot breath on his little hanging cock...

 

TT: I'm deprogramming this shit out of you after this. You can't get your IRL sex ideas from fucking hentai.
TT: Itadakimasu, bitch.

 

Dirk is just so adorable, David really does want to eat him right up. That little noise only has him chuckling before his dear sweet baby brother presses another kiss on his lips. Always appreciated.

David feels giddy with anticipation when his baby moves up to his face, already licking his lips when Dirk brings his hand down on his cheek. This caution seems much more like Dirk than Hal, but it warms his heart anyways, even if David thinks it's entirely unneeded. He may be frail, but he is pretty damn sure he can handle this.

"I will," he reassures Dirk gently. "Now c'mon, don't tease your daddy. Lemme at that cute pussy."

Dirk finally lifts that apron and David lets out a little moan at the mouth watering sight of his son's wet needy cunt. God, he's just so cute.

"Love your body so much, baby," he murmurs, and grabs Dirk's ass again before diving right in and burying his nose in the curls of Dirk's bush, taking a deep sniff. "Smells so good down here. So sweet, so needy for me..."

Dirk is always so wet and willing under his touches. The smell of fresh sweat only makes it all so much more intense. David thinks this is his new favorite smell, that he'd love to spritz his entire room with it all day long. Maybe that would be just a bit too much of a good thing, though, and this is just for him to enjoy besides.

Only he gets to perv on his baby brothers.

He rubs his face into Dirk's folds with enthusiasm, until he’s nosing at his little stiff cock. Enough teasing now, he decides. David gives the length of Dirk's cunt one big lick, all the way from his needy hole to his cock, and then another another and another. Then finally he settles between Dirk's folds and starts kissing and licking his way inside his baby brother. It's been a while since he has eaten pussy, but he's never had complaints before. It's easy to just let his instincts guide him, to make out with Dirk's cunt like he has with his mouth before.

 

Dirk is more or less certain that David has more of a daddy kink than he does himself. Still, it twists something in him just right, to be daddy and baby together, getting praised and pampered like the kid he was before David got taken away...

David grabs him by the ass, and Dirk is pulled forward, until his cunt meets his brother's face— he has to consciously stop himself from putting too much weight on him, ever-cautious— and lets out a shocked gasp, because he can feel David against him, his nose and chin and lips all pressed up into Dirk's most sensitive place.

His heart quickens to a rabbit pace, looking down between his legs at David, the way his eyebrows furrow up like he's just fucking snorted ecstasy and not his little brother's sweaty pussy. Dirk's hips twitch, and it's all he can do to keep himself from rutting down, grind his cock against David's nose like it's a goddamn Sybian—

There's hot, writhing wetness over his cunt, dragging over Dirk's entrance to his dick, and it takes one full pass of it to realize that's tongue. That's David's tongue on him, his brother's, licking into the center of him like he's a fucking Tootsie Pop, and it casts every fantasy and masturbatory emulation of the feeling into the pale to the point of not even resembling it at all. His hips tremble from where they rest in David's hands; every stroke of that tongue and kiss of those lips feel searing, like they're branding something indelible into Dirk, altering the unfinished clay of his body into some other image.

Dirk has to stick a couple of fingers in his mouth and bite really hard to muffle his keen.

TT: What did I say?
TT: I. I don't. I can't.
TT: No.
TT: Wrong. Bad doll.
TT: Bro goes and puts his mouth on your pussy and you can't even reward him with a real response. You just have to fucking ruin it with your pride as always.

 

Dirk's ears burn with mortification and something like shame, at being chastised and directed. He feels more and more out of sorts, like he keeps doing something wrong by just reacting naturally— is he really just acting naturally, or is he always doing this to himself, reacting and then unreacting, tamping down on himself until he's dense and compacted earth, a fossil of his own body— and it somehow makes him crave being told what to do again, just to be able to do it right.

 

TT: Sorry.
TT: You're not you right now. You don't get to take away this from me.
TT: So be me.
TT: I would be loud for him so he knows he's good at what he's doing. I'd keep the skirt lifted because I'm obedient and I'm for him to use.
TT: I'd move my hips a little because I want it. I want more of whatever he has to give me.
TT: I'd ask him if I taste good.

 

David licking into his hole is a new and alien sensation that Dirk wants an infinite supply of, and like this, it's surprisingly easier to follow Hal's commands than subvert them, like they've been in him all along. Dirk lolls his head forward and moans, low and long, and it's like his whole body vibrates with the tension escaping out of his mouth and not just his vocal chords. It's not difficult to gasp and whine and roll his hips into that hot kissing mouth, giving David more of his weight each time.

It's natural, to ask with his voice dropped to a husky register, "Do I taste good, Dad?"

TT: Die, ego, die.

 

David thinks he would love to spend hours with his head between Dirk's thighs, his world reduced to only tasting his baby boy, only hearing his moans and nothing else. It is, to put it bluntly, really fucking awesome. He is blissfully unaware of Dirk's conflict and only feels pride for coaxing these beautiful noises out of his little brother.

Dirk's question doesn't even register for a moment, and then David considers only answering by way of redoubling his efforts before he finally does pull away, his tongue still connected by a line of spit and slick for a moment longer as he looks up at Dirk and says, "Yes. Don't ever want to taste anything else again. My good, sweet boy..."

His right hand lets go of Dirk's ass and he tells him, "Good boys deserve a treat, don't you think so too, Hal?"

With that his skilled fingers seek out their target and easily sink into Dirk's most private parts, fucking him like he has so often the past days. "I want to hear all of your noises, baby," he confesses, as he noses Dirk's dick again. "Don't hold back while I get you off."

Finally, he takes the tempting little dick in his mouth, sucks and kisses on it with purpose. It shouldn't take too much of this to push Dirk over the edge, he thinks. David can't wait for Dirk to squirt all over his face.

 

A full-body shudder wracks through Dirk as David seems to intensify his ministrations, then abruptly stop. Dirk peers down at him through lidded eyes, shaded by his glasses but not at all obscuring the rest of his struck stupid, lovedrunk expression.

TT: "Your boy."

 

"Your boy," Dirk repeats, breathless. David's slick, rosy lips are so attractive.

TT: "Yes."

 

"Yes."

David's fingers enter him, so deft and purposeful, and Dirk knows this part as much as he loves it. They're firm against his insides in the way David's tongue wasn't, rubbing into his best parts, so long that they can reach all the way inside him. A low whine starts in Dirk's throat, rumbling in his chest...

...And gets startled into something higher, louder, as he feels his cock get enveloped in David's mouth, feel it get licked by his tongue, sucked.

"Fuck!" Dirk whimpers, his hips giving a half-aborted snap forward to grind against David's soft, kissing lips, pushing his sweaty bush into David's nose. It takes effort not to let his eyes roll back into his head, so that he can keep his vision on the screen, to read any direction.

TT: Look down. I wanna see his face in your muff.
TT: Touch his hair. Pet him.
TT: Tell him it feels good. It feels so good that you want to cum on his face.

 

"Dad," Dirk gasps out, and for a moment that's all he can say, pleasure making him stupid, a shaking hand reaching down to finger-comb his light hair back and feel the cornsilk-soft strands on his palm. "Dad. Feels good— you feel so good. I love your mouth sucking my cock. I want— wanna cum on your face like this."

TT: Good ad-lib.
TT: Tell him you love him.

 

"I love you." Pearls of sweat well up and drip down his face, his back. Dirk tries to keep his hips still enough to let David work his magic, but they keep twitching, humping infinitesimally forward as David licks and sucks his little dick, schlicks his fingers inside him with no resistance at all because Dirk just keeps getting wetter, coating David's hand, the inside of his thighs with slick. "I love you." Pressure builds inside of his cunt with startling force and intensity, and Dirk moans loud and high and desperate, because he knows—

TT: Tell him you're going to cum.
TT: Remember what he told you.

 

"I'm gonna cum," Dirk warns him, voice ragged and whining, like he's pleading. "Daddy, I'm gonna cum— you're gonna make me cum in your hot fuckin' mouth, oh my god, Daddy—!"

 

Dirk is so sweet, so good for Daddy. David wants to tell him that desperately, but sucking his little cock is so much more important than anything else in this world right now. The hands in his hair are more than appreciated, and Dirk gets an approving muffled moan in response.

'I love you too' is what he wants to say, tries to say by kissing Dirk's dick with pleasure. He can tell it won't be much longer, and then Dirk starts to clench around his fingers, and David knows before he even says a word that it's time. Dirk is going to cum, cum right on his face, and David is eager to catch as much of his little bro's cum in his mouth as he can.

Most of it misses his mouth entirely, of course. It's a wet mess, but David doesn't mind, only moans and licks his lips like he’s having the best meal of his life before he tells his sons, "I love you too. You did so good for daddy, both of you. Love you so much..."

Finally, he lets go of Dirk and lets him fall into the pillows, spent but happy even if he must look like a right mess. That's okay, though, he’s their mess. His little boys got to fuck his face, finally, and he couldn't be more proud.

"Fuck, that was awesome. We gotta do this more often." If he means this little idea of a threesome or just having Dirk sit on his face, he isn't rightfully sure of either.

 

Dirk's entire body tenses with not even enough room to breathe as his orgasm surges through him, seemingly endless waves of pleasure crashing through his body, getting him to shake and gush with it. He's only maybe theoretically aware of his cracked, broken-off scream as he squirts all over his brother.

His thighs tremble like branches in the breeze in the aftermath, and Dirk has to quickly climb off David's face for fear of smushing it flat. He collapses next to David, sitting against the pillows, still stunned from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Dirk grunts his assent, catching his breath— and is a bit surprised to learn that's not the end of the scene.

TT: Kiss him.

 

(But maybe it's just an honest request.)

With tingling limbs, Dirk scoots down the bed until he can comfortably stoop down and breathlessly kiss David, licking his own— cum? piss?— from his brother's lips. He whimpers, a little, touching the tongue that was in his pussy and licking his cock with his own.

TT: Tell him I'm always available.

 

Dirk pulls away to regard David, his smugly proud, handsome face. "I'm always available," he says, not bothering to differentiate between himself and Hal, because he's still a puppet, isn't he— and it still applies anyhow.

Somehow knowing it's something Hal would enjoy doing— perhaps on account of being virtually the same person with a circular Venn diagram of shared fetishes—, Dirk leans back in to lick a flat stripe up David's wet neck, to his sharp jaw, his hollow cheek. He punctuates it with a warm, slightly slobbery kiss to his cheekbone.

TT: Clean him up.

 

Thankfully, Dirk doesn't have to walk anywhere with wobbly, tingly legs. Tissues and baby wipes are on the bedside table, and it's no effort to grab them and start gently wiping David's face.

TT: Tell him I liked it too. Not just theoretically.

 

"I liked it too. Not just theoretically," Dirk repeats, and knows there must have been a conversation earlier about that. He has an inkling as to what it might mean.

 

Always the good boy, Dirk kisses him. David laughs breathlessly after, feeling all sorts of high like he just came himself, instead of just helping his boy reach his peak.

He sighs happily when Dirk licks at him and tells him he's always available. "I know, baby," he answers. Dirk's smart hands start wiping at his face and David is thankful that he doesn't have to lift a finger. As much as he adores being covered in Dirk's juices, letting that sit doesn't seem terribly appealing.

He grins. "Me too. Didn't cum but that doesn't matter, right? This is good too. We can still have fun."

 

TT: I had fun.

 

"I had fun," Dirk murmurs. Having cleaned David off, and given himself a few cursory wipes between the legs, he crumples all the tissues together in a ball and tosses it like a basketball player into the small trash can across the room. It scores.

TT: Nice.
TT: Thanks.
TT: You can take your apron off now and lay down with him. Put me on the bedside table so I can look at him.
TT: Alright.
TT: Dirk.
TT: Thank you.

 

Dirk smiles, just a bit at the corners of his mouth. He finally undoes his apron, pulling it off and tossing it on the floor, leaving himself naked to cuddle with his Bro.

 

TT: It's cool.
TT: I went over the blueprints you drew up. It'll take a long time, but it can happen.
TT: Get some rest, Dirk. David needs your attention.

 

Huffing, Dirk takes his shades off, leaving them on the nightstand facing them like Hal asked. He worms his way under the bedsheets with David, all other responsibilities cast aside in favor of post-coital snuggling the shit out of his brother.

He tucks David's head to be pillowed onto his breasts. There's something about his weight there that makes Dirk feel accomplished as a protector.

 

TT: Remember how we were talking earlier?
TT: I'd do this too. Hold you as much as you need. Or let you hold me.
TT: Don't let anyone tell you that a grown man shouldn't play with dolls.

 

This is the life. David has never felt as safe and loved as now, between his beloved little brothers.

Time passes easily between sleeping and sleeping with Dirk and Hal, and David quickly finds himself allowed to eat real food again, a true blessing if you ask him. Naturally, his first proper meal consists of the greasiest burgers and fries they could find and some apple juice. David only managed to finish half of his meal, but he thinks that's probably okay.

Things are starting to look up.

Chapter 6: Conciliation, Concupiscence

Summary:

David is frustrated with the length of his recovery.

Notes:

chapter warnings: minor suicidal ideation, mentions of (with intention to carry out) piss kink

After the food, he’s allowed to start doing physical therapy to help regain all that lost muscle mass. At first, David is ecstatic about being allowed to do more, move more, regain some of that lost mobility. The first few sessions leave him sweaty but optimistic.

That's only the start of it all though, the very tip of the iceberg that is his messed up body. With time, he starts to get more frustrated with his own perceived lack of progress, even if everyone is telling him he is doing just fine. Why doesn't just fine translate to walking on his own for longer than two steps at a time?

It's after an especially frustrating session that he finds himself on the couch, sweaty and brooding. This sucks. This isn't working nearly as fast as he had hoped it would, and it only really reminds him that he can't do a ton of shit yet. Hell, he even needs Dirk to bathe him still. Well, strictly speaking, he mostly needs Dirk to get in and out of the tub.

Dirk is busy letting the bathwater in and David knows he could talk to Hal but he doesn't feel particularly social. Instead he removes his shades and wipes at his eyes to get these god damn tears to fuck off. This is pathetic. He shouldn't be sitting around crying over not making enough progress. He should get up and make progress.

Getting up all on his own is a stupid fucking idea, part of him knows that. The part that is a prideful, stubborn asshole, though? That part has him try to get off the couch on his own shaky legs anyways.

 

Dirk is humming to himself as he draws up a bath for David.

He sort of can't help it— or just doesn't care to. Being mostly alone for five years allowed him the freedom of indulging in various solitary habits, like making weird-ass noises and vocal stims with no one around to hear. Now, it's just because he's happy. More than— he's proud.

David is recuperating so well. His progress has been so steady, a slow climb, but upward movement all the same. He's started to walk, and for a moment there Dirk was dizzied by the silhouette of him, how tall he was standing if only for a moment on his two feet, the impression of who he was before his capture stomping on Dirk's chest and leaving them both winded by its end...

Dirk wanted to kiss him in front of the therapist today.

A ping and red text interrupts his rose-hued thoughts.

TT: David alert. He has his shades off.
TT: Dude's trying to pull a Neil Armstrong.
Alarm jolts through Dirk, and he only has just enough cognitive wherewithal to turn off the bath tap before sprinting to the living room where David is waiting.

Or, not waiting— half-standing, looking like his entire body is shaking just from the quaking of his knees, sweaty and red-faced and teary-eyed. Dirk can see it in his posture, the way he sways and wobbles and pants— he knows from spending hours and hours of PT with him that David is going to fall.

In a flash, Dirk is there by him, holding him up by the waist when he inevitably collapses. He clutches David to him, and snaps, far more scared than pissed, "What the fuck, man?"

TT: Don't be a dick to him!
David is going to fall. He knows this, he can feel it without a doubt. Part of him hopes that he will fall face first into the couch table, split his head open and end it all. It's selfish, incredibly so, but he can't help it. Bleeding out on the floor of his own apartment just because he was trying to get up— What a fitting fucking end for former rebel leader David Strider.

He doesn't fall, though. Something— someone— is catching him before he can. Dirk. It's Dirk, of course it's Dirk. Who else would be his savior?

David wants to answer with something intelligent, he truly does. He wants to explain himself, the frustration bubbling inside of him, that he doesn't feel like he is far enough yet.

All that leaves his lips is a pathetic sob and, "I want to walk!"

 

All of the sharp emotion in Dirk evaporates at that. He sighs, heart twisting in sympathy, and squeezes David close to him, breathes in his homey, if sweaty, scent.

"You need a bath," he says very softly, and picks David up entirely to carry him to the bathroom. He notes with some pride that he's heavier than he used to be.

Dirk sits his brother on the toilet seat and begins to undress him quietly, feeling awkward and out of his depth in the face of his brother's tears. He doesn't want to chastise him — David is the adult, not Dirk. David is the big brother, the parent. Even ill and infirm, Dirk venerates him as the man of the house — who is he to tell a free man not to walk?

"You could have hurt yourself," he mutters instead, pulling David's sweat-soaked shirt over his head. It's a relief to be the one wearing his shades — David doesn't deserve the pity in Dirk's eyes, the mutual pain. "It's less bumps and bruises and more broken bones and dislocation at this stage in your recovery."

 

David only nods against Dirk as a way of answer, and lets himself be carried without a fuss. It hurts his pride that he gets carried so easily, by his son, at that. It should be the other way around, always has been before this.

He feels broken sitting there and letting Dirk undress him while the tears just keep on coming. He should be better, stronger. For Dirk, for Hal, for everyone’s sake. Yet, all he can think of is the relief of watching himself bleed out on the floor.

Selfish. So selfish.

He can't possibly tell Dirk about that, worry him in that way. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he did. "I know," he mumbles instead. "I'm sorry."

David looks down at his hands, at his traitorous useless legs. He's hurting, both from the training earlier and from all his own expectations he just can't fulfill.

"I'm so tired," he finally admits. "I just want to walk. I want to be normal again. Myself."

It's naive, but he always thought that as soon as he was out of her grasp, he could simply go back to normal. Be himself again. At the very least, he always had his body in his fantasies.

"It’s not fair. She took so many pieces of me, it's just not fair. I want them back. I want to be me."

Finally he looks up again, searching for Dirk’s face, grabbing for his hands. David doesn't want to be this weak, least of all in front of Dirk. He knows he can trust his little brother more than anyone but he wants to be strong and reliable for him. A big brother, a father.

Maybe though, just maybe, it's okay not to be okay. To be weak and to need to rely on his brothers just like they rely on him.

 

David is undressed in very little time, and Dirk looks at him from the safety of his shades, his scarred body, still so thin but getting stronger, some wiry muscle visible underneath that thin skin now. Lovely. Dirk worships this man.

He holds David's hands in his, thumbs tracing over knuckles that stick out too far. "You're getting them back. You are. You're getting so strong." He kisses one, reverent, like a serf to a king. "Soon, you're not gonna need me no more."

The idea fucking hurts, but if it's important to David, Dirk will encourage it. It's awful, selfish, monstrous— but Dirk wants to be relied on. He wants David to need him, all the time, and it's so disgusting that he wouldn't be anything but ecstatic for his brother to get his complete independence back.

He nuzzles David's hands, presses a kiss to a palm. "I'm a good nurse, though, right?" Dirk asks wryly. "I take constructive criticism."

 

David laughs, a sad watery sound. "Won't ever not need you. Maybe not to walk, no, but I'll always need my baby boy close, no matter what. We gotta protect each other, okay? Don't you ever think I don't need you."

The idea of him not needing Dirk is simply ridiculous. He needs Dirk like he needs air to breathe, like something natural and never ending. There's simply no future for him that doesn't involve Dirk and Hal. It doesn't exist, simple as that.

Maybe this is just the right place and time to confess to his endless need for his little brother, broken and naked in front of him, asking for absolution for all his selfishness.

David shakes his head, looks up at Dirk, his perfect, beautiful boy. "You are the best nurse I could ever ask for. More than that, the best brother, the best lover, I could ask for." Lover… The word lays heavy on his tongue, but that's what they are now, isn't it?

"I love you, Dirk. You are my whole world." With that he leans in to kiss his boy, gentle and just a bit wet.

"I'm just… tired. Exhausted. Impatient. I want my body back so I can give you everything you deserve, not so I can walk away."

 

David's confessions heat up Dirk's chest, to his face, all the way behind his eyes. He swallows against the emotion, and thanks his luck that there aren't any tears coming.

Lover. God. Dirk feels a wild gratification, hearing him say that, knowing all the things giving it truth that lie beneath it, like exclusive and romantic and official, and the confirmation of it not being precluded by their blood relation. And yet— a terrible, terrible guilt, standing in front of this man, having known the sounds of his screams, begs, pleads.

He kisses him back, reciprocating that gentleness. How long will this bubble last before it pops?

"You're more than I deserve," Dirk whispers against his lips. He kisses him again, the corner of his mouth, his jaw. "So strong. So fuckin' brave. You'll heal. You were hurt, but you're gonna heal." A firm one, to the space under his ear.

He pulls away, taking his glasses off and placing them on the counter, facing the tub. "Just let me take care of you for a little while," Dirk tells him with eyes made of dark and molten amber, and starts to undress, pulling his shirt over his head.

"I like taking care of you." He undoes his belt buckle, and slides his pants down his hips, underwear going with it. "I like helping you. I loved helping you walk today." Stepping out of his clothes, toeing his socks off, finally naked in front of David. Brother, lover.

"You wanna do it again?" he asks, heart beating quick. It'd be really pushing him, but David wants it, and Dirk wants to help him get it. "Just a step and a half into the tub. I'll hold you. You won't fall."

 

David couldn't stop staring at Dirk if he wanted to. He is simply gorgeous, his savior, his little man, his lover. All of this, and yet so much more. His whole world, whole reason not to give up, neatly packaged into the cutest boy David could imagine.

The tits also help.

"I like it when you help me," he confesses, feeling like it's something dirty. Dirtier than fucking his brotherson even is that he wants and likes to rely on Dirk. He should be the protector and yet... It's fucking nice to be cared for.

"I like that you are there to catch me. I like that I can always rely on you. I love you. I love feeling that love that way... I just want to be able to return more of it. What if..." He swallows, words almost failing him. "What if you grow tired of helping? Of me? What if you resent spending so much time on a lost case? I don't want that for you. For us."

The tears are threatening to return at this confession but instead David gets up again. Just a step. He can do it, prove himself worthy of Dirk’s adoration.

He makes it. It feels like a marathon, but he makes it, and Dirk helps him into the tub proper. The warm water feels good on his sore muscles, and David sighs.

 

Gratification glows in Dirk's chest like the sun peeking through clouds. I like it when you help me, David says — Dirk can't think of better praise to have been given.

Helping David into the tub, he thinks about how to answer those questions in a way that actually reassures David and doesn't come off as a plain dismissal. The idea of Dirk somehow getting bored of David is The Three Stooges kind of ridiculous to him. His brother has practically been his special interest for the past half-decade.

Finally getting David to take that step, though, climbing into the water with him, Dirk with his chest to David's back, his brother's body between his legs, the words come.

"I'm so new to you like this, huh," he murmurs thoughtfully, nosing the soft hairs at David's nape, holding him around the waist. The only other sounds in the bathroom are the ones of them breathing, and the soft splashes of the water shifting. "You didn't see me grow up into this— what I did. I spent all my time looking for you, bro, even when I wasn't supposed to. When nobody would let me, 'cause I was a kid. Hal was— the main thing I had him do was help me look for you. And I finally— finally— fuckin' found you.

"I'm not just your boyfriend," Dirk continues, his lips just behind David's ear, breath as hot as the steam curling up around them. His arms tighten around David, clinging. "Not your friend. I'm your brother. Remember that. Your family. And that shit is fuckin' forever, David. You're not a lost case. You're my blood."

Dirk buries his face in the crook on David's neck, nuzzling deep. His breasts squish against his brother's back, and he closes his legs around David, crossing his ankles under the lift of his thighs. He suddenly wants to do something stupid and animalistic, like— bite him, or something. "My only family." Mine. Mine. You're mine. I found you, so you're mine.

 

David shudders against Dirk, listening intently to his words. Not just your boyfriend. Dirk sees their relationship just like him, they are brothers, but also something more. A bond that can't be broken so easily, not even by years of torture by an alien bitch...

He sighs and leans into Dirk. For a moment, there's just silence between them while David thinks of how to reply. Finally, he settles on, "You've grown up so much, Dirk. It amazes me every day. My little baby has become a little man, and I wasn't even there to see... You’re right. You’re new to me like this, and I love it, but it also scares me. But..."

He hesitates for just a second, before reaching for Dirk’s hand to hold onto it. "But I trust you. If you say this is okay, that you won’t resent me, I will trust you. Can't help feeling frustrated by my body's lack, but... I'll try not to be stupid, okay? Fall into you if I do feel stupid..."

He falls silent again for a moment before he makes up his mind. He's been considering asking for this for a while now and now seems like as good a moment as any.

"Dirk... Dirk, I want you to touch me. In any way you want." He has been touching Dirk plenty, but the affection on his own body has been mostly kisses and hugs. Which David was just fine with, but he wants more, wants to give Dirk more of himself.

"You can do anything you want with me, touch everywhere. Just want to feel you… Even if I can't get it up. I want to feel close."

 

Dirk is quiet as he listens, inhaling the comforting yet heady scent of David's skin. He squeezes David's hand in his, reassuringly, possessively.

When his brother expresses his wish to be touched in any way Dirk wants, Dirk bites down on the inside of his cheek, a full-body heat flushing through him.

"Good," he mutters in David's ear. "'Cause I need to wash you now."

He has to half-untangle from David to reach behind them, grabbing the body wash first with slightly trembling hands. His heart rabbits in his chest as he squirts the soap in his hands, and instead of doing anything that might have CPS called on them, he starts in on washing David's shoulders and back, massaging the soap in like it's fancy masseur's oil and not Aveeno's baby formula.

Years of training didn't give him soft hands, but they did give him strong ones, and he treats David to a body massage with them, fingers digging and rubbing into that steam-soft, scarred flesh to get at the tired muscles underneath.

"Feel like you're forgetting I'm almost a total virgin," Dirk finally says, with an edge of embarrassment. "Almost being a qualifier there for what stuff you've taught me. Like making out, and getting fingered, and sitting on your face. For real, bro, if there's anyone who should be sweating over bodily reciprocity, it should be me."

He uses both thumbs to work out a knot in David's neck. "Believe me, man, I wanna— do everything with you. Learn it all. And I won't lie, I've definitely been making an effort at being a respectful Prince Charming and not overstepping into a place I wasn't sure I was wanted.

"But I— hm. I don't. Really know how to steer this particular vehicle." Dirk burns with the mortification of his honesty. "And I'm still technically too young to officially get my Class E. Learner's permit only. Need a licensed adult over twenty-one in the passenger seat, you get me?"

 

David lets out a little moan when Dirk’s talented hands start massaging him. It’s not exactly what he meant, but very much welcome anyways. When did Dirk get so good at this?

He chuckles lightly at Dirk’s words. "I feel I should mention that virginity is a social construct but honestly? I enjoy being your first a bit too much to do that in all seriousness. Really though... Isn’t there anything you want to do to my body?"

He leans back into Dirk's touch and groans, very much playing up the lust in his voice. "You don’t have to hold back. I'll tell you if I don’t like something, okay? I just want to feel you on me..."

 

Dirk huffs fondly. "Meant it as more of an indicator of my own inexperience, not the state of my freshness seal. Although that's very much intact."

He runs his hands over David's shoulders, his collarbones, down to his chest. Dirk lathers him there, not-so-subtly feeling him up, fingers soaping over his pink nipples. Giddy excitement lurches in his gut, wondering at David's lustful tone, the honor of getting to do this... "I was holding out for a whole cherry-popping ceremony, though," he whispers as his hands travel even lower, under the water, over David's belly. "Put up some decorations. Buy some condoms and blow 'em up, use them as balloons. Get a rabbi to bless the bed, or some shit, make a celebration of it."

It's a bit of an awkward angle, since he has to reach a little, but Dirk presses his fingers into David's thighs, caressing his flesh more than massaging it. It's so close to his cock and balls that Dirk has to force himself to breathe out slowly rather than holding his breath in anticipation.

"I did wanna massage you, though," he mutters, although his hands stay where they are. "Get you loose and limber all over. You must be so exhausted from today. Wanted to reward you."

 

"Mmmm...I mean, technically I already broke your freshness seal for sure. If you hadn't already while jerking it, heh."

David leans back into Dirk's touches and sighs contently. This is nice. So nice that he moans a little when Dirk's skillful hands rub over his nipples. He hasn't been touched like this in such a long time and it feels so good.

"It's gonna be a celebration, alright," he says, voice low and calm. "We can do decorations and a rabbi if you really want. Anything for my baby... Though personally, all I need is your cute cunt to worship."

"I am," he admits. "And you are rewarding me with this. Keep going, baby. I want to feel you so much..."

 

Dirk's cunt clenches at the mention of it being called cute. "It's still there," he says, unsure what he's even referring to specifically. The steam is going to his brain. "You've just been... fondling the merchandise."

Slowly, as if trying not to spook a wild horse, Dirk's hands draw closer to David's genitals, until he's cupping him entirely, gently lifting his balls in one hand and touching his flaccid penis with the other. The skin on both of them has gone soft with soap and steam, so Dirk's finger calluses aren't nearly as pronounced as he carefully grasps the length of David's shaft. In the water, it's weightless in his hand.

Dirk feels his heartbeat in his ears. "You're so big even when you're soft," he comments wonderingly, and then bites his cheek because what the fuck kind of comment is that. It's true, though— David definitely isn't some marble statue with a tastefully small and non-distracting package. This guy's a shower.

Not that Dirk ever really remembers seeing him get hard. The footage of his imprisonment was often badly lit, and David was nearly always in some kind of pain. If his body reacted in that way, then Dirk couldn't see it, and for all he knows his brother might be a grower too.

Peering down between them, Dirk grips David's cock and moves his hand slowly down, tugging with his thumb, pulling his foreskin back like how he's seen people do it in porn. He exposes David's dull pink, flared cockhead, the image of it clouded and distorted under the bathwater. Dirk exhales purposefully slowly through his nose again, his own thighs flexing.

"Does it feel good to touch? Like, generally speaking." He squeezes David's balls in his other hand, just a bit, and is delighted by the feel of it, the hint of give. "I know this train isn't scheduled to go anywhere — conductor's on sick leave, I get it. But do you like it?"

 

"Mhm, just fondling the merchandise," David repeats, amused. "I can't wait to give it a real good spin soon."

David's stomach does a funny thing when Dirk's hands move further, something between dread and excitement taking over him. Part of him wants to get up and run, but he asked for this. His last experiences with anyone touching him like this haven't been pleasant.

He doesn't tell Dirk to stop, though, just inhales sharply to brace himself. It doesn't feel bad. It doesn't hurt. He tries to internalize this as he exhales slowly through his nose, teeth clenched and eyes closed in concentration. Feeling Dirk’s chest squished against his back helps David ground himself, keeps him in the now.

A little snort escapes him at Dirk’s wonder over his size. "Never had any complaints about size so far. Do you think you’ll be able to take all of me for your first?"

Trick question, David knows he will. Dirk's soft hands keep playing with him, pull back his foreskin, and David groans. It's not quite lust surging through him, but there's an undercurrent of it all the same. It's nice. Intimate.

He nods. "Yeah. Yeah, it's good, baby. I like it." A little moan leaves his lips when Dirk squeezes his sensitive balls. "Real good, fuck."

David nuzzles against Dirk's cheek and chuckles a bit, feeling a bit high on how nice it is to get touched, loved. There's no pain to worry about, no unpleasant awakening. Just his little lover touching him.

"Conductor says he wishes he wasn't on sick leave. He loves his train gettin' polished though.”

 

"I'll make it fit," Dirk declares, quietly determined. Even just a couple of David's bony fingers give him a satisfying stretch, but Dirk doesn't care if he breaks. He wants this for more than just sexual pleasure. He'll be close to David even if it hurts.

He nuzzles his brother back, even as he rolls his balls in his fingers, feels the seam of his sac with his thumb. Even under the water, they have a little weight to them, and suddenly Dirk wishes that David was able to stand before him in the bath, just so he could feel him with gravity working, cup his balls and feel the heft of them, memorize with his touch how they sag slightly, with size and age. Feel how heavy his cock really is like that, maybe on his tongue — envelop all of him in his mouth, not sucking, just keeping him warm— safe—

"Conductor is gonna keep his ass parked right the fuck here and enjoy his train getting the TLC it deserves before it's deemed rail-ready." Dirk pulls the hand on David's dick slowly down, feeling the entire length of him, the outline of veins underneath the delicate, velvety skin. "With compliments to him, 'cause this thing is longer than the fuckin' Shinkansen. What's the passenger capacity, Conductor?"

Hopefully a teen boy can score a ticket. And with teen boy riders come teen boy shenanigans. Dirk tugs up and down David's soft cock twice, and goes, completely pokerfaced, "Choo choo!"

 

David snorts loudly at Dirk’s shenanigans. God, he loves this boy so much he would die for him. No, live for him.

"Mmm... It might look big, but it's really just made for two. Preferably the conductor's genius brotherson and his brainclone. They get VIP tickets, first class. Right on the conductor's lap as they steer into this tunnel together..."

David feels light and relaxed like this, the warm bath soothing his aching muscles while Dirk and his touches soothe his soul. It's good. He thinks he could spend a lifetime like this, except...

"Conductor's gettin' a li’l sleepy. What if we get this train on the road heading to bed and continue fooling around there?"

 

Dirk laughs with David, a breathy hehe. He turns his head to kiss David's neck, squeezes his hips with his thighs.

"Sure, but I actually need to wash you first," Dirk huffs, and puts a pause on fondling David's junk so he can reach for the soap again. "Just relax and space out. I'll do everything for you. All aboard..."

He resumes washing David in earnest, kneading the muscles underneath as he goes, careful of bruising that thin, tender skin. Dirk goes over David's arms, his back, maneuvers his body so that he can get at his legs, his feet, and yes, his genitals, lathering him up there with more drawn-out ministrations than strictly needed.

Dirk doesn't leave out his scalp, either, scritching it lightly with his short nails, and carefully dips David's hair back into the water when he's done with both washes. He presses a kiss to his lips, like that, David with his eyes closed serenely, leaned back in the bath in some sort of half-baptism, Dirk cradling his head beneath the surface.

Washing himself is done with less care. Normally, Dirk would take ages in the shower, doing everything from soaping to shaving to daydreaming— but with David waiting to fool around on the bed, Dirk isn't delaying the route. He only does enough to deem himself clean enough, and unstoppers the drain.

"Need me to carry you?" Dirk asks nonjudgmentally, already standing in the tub. He leans over to get some towels from the rack beside the tub, and wraps one around David before beginning to dry himself. "Or do you want me to get the wheelchair?"

 

Just relax and space out he does, gladly letting Dirk take care of everything. David feels light and relaxed like this, his eyes slipping closed while he sighs contentedly. This is one thing he doesn’t want to give up on once he is well again. The intimacy of getting washed like this is just too nice to consider letting go of.

"Carry me," he says as he starts to dry himself off. "I like it when you take care of me, Dirk. Kinda romantic to carry your lover to bed, right?"

Truth is that he wishes he could be the one to carry Dirk to bed, throw him on there and kiss him breathless before fucking him stupid... Soon, he tells himself. With some time that will happen. For now, he should try to just relax under Dirk’s care.

David lets Dirk finish drying him off before he gets lifted in his boy's strong arms. Every time this happens, he wonders when Dirk became this strong and reliable. He was still so tiny before all of this happened. A reliable kid for sure, but nowhere near strong enough to carry his brother.

David lets out a little sigh as he holds onto Dirk, nuzzles into his strong shoulder. He smells like soap and home.

"I want to be selfish tonight, Dirk. I want you to do whatever you want with my body, make me feel good and loved... That's okay, right?"

 

Dirk carries David as requested, scooping him up into a princess hold and carrying his brother, bundled in a towel, to— their bed, now, he supposes. The only nights he's spent not sleeping next to David have been ones where he hasn't slept at all. His own bed in his bedroom is littered with mess, puppets and neglected laundry and robotics equipment.

He takes his shades with him as he goes. Even if David can't talk to Hal right now, he'll resent being left out.

Dirk sets David down on the bed carefully, and nuzzles him back, pressing his nose to his cheek, his damp hair. God, the way David looks, skeletal and translucent — Dirk still thinks he's lovely, but wonders how he isn't shivering with cold.

He tosses both of their wet towels on the floor and flashes over to get a fluffy wine-red robe for David and then back, guiding it over his arms and shoulders. He climbs easily into bed with him, fitting himself snugly against his brother's side, throwing a leg and arm over his body, half on top of him.

"Whatever I want? Thought I was the toy, bro," Dirk murmurs, lips against David's jaw, kissing him closed-mouth and warm. He drags his mouth over to David's lips, kissing him there just the same. His hand, still hot from the bath, caresses over David's chest, splayed over his breast. "You want me to touch you like this until you knock out?"

 

It's their bed now, their room. David gladly shares his space with Dirk, sleeps best with his boy right next to him. Maybe they will need a bigger bed when Hal gets a body, he muses, while Dirk sets him down on their bed and gets him a much needed bathrobe. David is really starting to appreciate all things fluffy and warm.

Warm like Dirk's hand on him. Like his lips on David's, heating him up from the inside out. He nods, almost shyly. "We can switch places for tonight. I'll be your doll to use however you want. I want to fall asleep feeling loved… Wake up with you right next to me. I..."

David bites his lip, looks away almost bashfully. A role reversal, indeed, but he trusts Dirk to see him like this too. Insecure. Unsure.

"I miss it. Getting touched like this. It scares me, but I crave it so much. I want to be vulnerable with you, Dirk. I want to trust you with my body. I love you."

Finally, he looks back into Dirk’s face with a soft smile and kisses his lips. "I need this. You. You and a reminder that things are good now. I don't have anything to fear anymore. My body is here to feel good again. No more pain..."

He shakes his head just a bit, wipes at his eyes before pulling Dirk into a close embrace. God, this is so goddamn mushy but his mouth just keeps running. "You can shut me up now..."

 

Dirk's ears heat up with the same bashfulness David feels. He doesn't look away from him, though, attentive, hanging on to his every word.

He's speechless even as he's kissed— until David seems to brush tears away before they fully form, and at that Dirk makes a sound, some consoling animal noise, involuntary as he'd pulled into a hug.

"Nah, you're good," Dirk mumbles, his face a little mushed where it's pressed against David's jutting collarbone. He tilts his head up to look at him again, his eyes warm and admiring, belying his words. "You have my full okay to keep going on about how much you need this and love me, et cetera, ad infinitum..."

He kisses David's little pockmark throat scars, finds them all to be healed underneath his lips. His hand roams down as his mouth does, running over David's tummy, his bony hip, trailing warm and wet little kisses over his skin. He says over his brother's chest, just a low rumble of his voice, "You're always safe with me, bro. I'm big enough to protect you now. Stop forgetting."

Dirk leans down and, with an anxious swoop in his belly, curiously licks over his brother's nipple. There's no softness here, but the bud still responds, hardening under his hot breath and cooling spit. It's all the encouragement Dirk needs to seal his mouth over his delicate, petal-pink areola, latching on properly and sucking.

Meanwhile, his hand crawls even lower — not downwards but outwards, wrapping around David until he's cupping his ass, dragging him closer. Dirk squeezes even though there's really nothing there, but who the fuck cares, it's David's cute rump, and Dirk will enjoy his brother's ass even if it's more like Hal's endoskeleton in feel and not puppet plush.

 

David laughs lightly. "I know, but if I keep going I'm gonna start bawling my eyes out and I don't want to end the day on that note." He's already close enough to tears as it is. He has never thought of himself as someone who cries easily, but after everything that happened, and in Dirk’s loving embrace, the tears just come sometimes. Maybe that’s okay, as well. Perhaps it's simply part of healing, washing all the poison out through his tear ducts.

A delighted little sigh leaves his lips as Dirk starts kissing the scars on his neck, such an ugly reminder, and yet the attention there feels so nice. Soon, these scars will fade into little white dots, barely there, but David knows Dirk will kiss them all the same, soothe him in this way.

He moans shamelessly when Dirk starts paying attention to his nipple, a sensation he hasn’t felt in so long it might as well be entirely new. Why it is that Dirk would grab for his skeletal ass he has no idea, but he whines all the same, rutting his hips against Dirk helplessly.

"I know," he whines. "I know I'm always safe with you, always loved. You've grown up so well, Dirk. Always gonna be my little baby, though. My little savior. My hero."

 

David is erectile dysfunctional, but damn, he sure sounds horny. Maybe it's all peripheral for him — pleasurable, but not much of a drive behind it. Dirk wonders if his hips thrust against him move out of habit, too, but he reciprocates all the same, fire in his body, lighting up his skin. He can feel his brother's soft cock and balls press against his hip.

Dirk pops off his nipple, finally, gives it a little parting kiss. It's flushed darker pink, a bit puffy and shining with spit. "I love you, bro," he mumbles, a bit breathless with desire. And being called David's little baby. "Love you, Dad."

He latches on to David's other nipple, intent on painting a spoiled and debauched picture of his big brother. His other arm worms under David's body to hold his back, fingers running up and down his knobbly spine. Dirk enjoys suckling on David's thin chest until his nipple is just as wet and erect as the other - he plants more of those wet, sucking kisses down his chest, over his abdomen, to his tummy.

Curious and wanting all of David's body in mouth, he flutters kisses over his belly (is he still ticklish? They had tickle fights, when he was a kid) before dipping his tongue shallowly into his navel. Dirk looks up to meet David's eyes questioningly - he's only really seen stuff like this in hentai. Still, he wants to worship his brother's body - and his belly button is cute.

 

It's a bit like torture that he can't get it up right now. David knows if Dirk was doing this to him at another time, he would already be leaking pre and whining for attention on his cock. It's torturous, yes, but also nice to explore his own body in this way, free of the need to blow his load and simply taking all the pleasure Dirk gives him for what it is. It just feels good, soft and warm and fuzzy around the edges. Undeniably pleasure, but never threatening to grow into something beyond what it is.

David almost feels like he is the virgin here, exploring himself in such a new way and unable to keep himself from whining for more, more, more. He regrets it when Dirk moves on from his nipples, leaving his chest feeling just a bit cold, but there's excitement at continuing this journey together, too.

Dirk’s next target seems to be his stomach, which nets him a little chuckle from his big brother. It reminds him of tickle fights they used to have quite regularly and he half expects Dirk to raspberry his tummy as revenge for the countless times David has pulled that move on him. Instead, though, Dirk keeps kissing and licking, finally tonguing his navel.

David's eyes sparkle with amusement when they meet Dirk's. "There's no champagne to have from there, you know. Not yet anyways." Admittedly, the roles were very much reversed when he went over that particular fantasy before, but this is nice enough that he could be convinced otherwise. A weird feeling, but not unpleasantly so, little tingles going down his spine with all of Dirk's touches.

His hand moves to caress Dirk’s hair and he grins. "I like it. Certainly the first time anyone's done this to me. Taking my virginity just like that, my my..." David chuckles, quite enjoying the idea of Dirk having his virginity, even if It's just the belly button kind.

 

Dirk, having been unwillingly subject to Rosalind's insouciant overindulgence before, doesn't really like the sharp bitterness of champagne. But he finds himself still wanting to drink an entire bottle off of David's body.

"I'm sure the Lalondes have some to spare," he says with a fond little smirk, looking up at David's pretty eyes, the way his hair curls slightly as it dries. "I hear their bar is extremely well stocked."

His eyes flutter closed at the feeling of David's hand in his still-damp hair, loose and down. At the mention of taking David's virginity in any capacity, he makes an involuntary, needy little noise from low in his throat — suddenly he feels like his face got blasted with hot oven wind — and tilts his face back down to kiss David's navel, lingering. He opens his mouth and his teeth graze the edge of it before he licks back in, deeper this time, slow and sensuous, as if he'd rather be licking—

The hand on David's ass skates downward, only to be replaced by the hand on his back — the pads of his fingers press against David's tender thigh flesh, curling inward, until he's a hair's breadth away from grazing his heavy, relaxed balls. David tastes so clean and fresh, even here — Dirk made sure to wash him thoroughly everywhere. He looks up to his brother again, his sunset gaze far more sultry than last time.

It's hard not to go right for the prize. But Dirk knows that if he ends up between David's legs, he's not leaving for the whole night. Instead, he spreads his thighs apart so carefully, squeezing and groping at what little softness he has, as much to soothe his brother as it is him being a pervert.

 

Dirk is just so adorable, all flushed over the mention of David's virginity. If he could, he would give it to Dirk, let him take his innocence like David is doing to him. It seems all fair.

David chuckles deeply at Dirk's redoubled efforts. "Hmm, yeah. Rosie always has the good fancy shit. Should sneak some and get you all tipsy some time. Would be adorable, I'm sure..."

Making his underage brother drink isn’t his proudest fantasy but it certainly is one. Dirk flushed and vulnerable for him... It's a good fantasy.

For now, though, he is the one who is flushed and vulnerable under Dirk's touches. Dirk spreading his legs has him feeling like a slut, but for once it's in a good way. Dirk is so greedy for his body and David loves it, loves that Dirk adores him, always. Even now, at his worst, Dirk still thinks he is deserving of this worship.

David loves him more than anything. So he tells Dirk that he does, over and over again, while he waits for Dirk to claim his prize.

 

A wash of heat runs through Dirk like an ocean wave, and he shudders a sigh at the idea of David getting him drunk on purpose. He's never given any sort of shit about mind-altering substances, as much as his adolescence might make it typical of him to be curious — he doesn't like not being in control of himself. It makes him panic. But with David...

Not even God knows the kind of fucked up consent fantasies he's had about him and David.

"Yeah," he breathes, "Get me tipsy. You know that whole speech about doing drugs safely with a parent and not on the street? Supervise me." Take advantage of me.

He gives one last open-mouthed kiss to David's navel before moving on, leaving it almost as pink and wet as his nipples. On impulse, Dirk nips his hipbone, plants his lips around the graceful curving ridge of it and gives him a kiss. He wishes he could bite David everywhere. He wishes he could eat him, and yet still have him, too.

"I love you, too." Dirk has to force himself to skip David's genitals for now, because he can't let him think that he doesn't love his legs too. They both have long legs, another strong resemblance between them, although the shape of Dirk's veers towards dainty and princelike. Built for speed, he is.

He licks more than kisses along them, scooting yet farther down and using his hands to behold them, raise them up to his lips. He stops once, to suck a particularly hard kiss to the tender flesh of the crook behind his knee, something he's always wanted to do after he read online that it was a sensitive spot.

Looking at David with both love and mischief, he presses one chaste little kiss to each arch of his feet, all fresh from the bath, never even having touched the floor. Dirk squeezes his toes - dismayed that they're cold, he guides them under the covers at the same time he coaxes David's legs to spread just a little more.

Inexorably, his eyes are drawn to David's center, his soft and relaxed cock, his hanging balls - Dirk's mouth waters. His hands run along the length of David's legs as he leans forward, nearly falling, nestling himself right in between his brother's legs.

The first thing he does with David's junk is stuff his face into it and huff it like premium gas. It doesn't smell like all that much, having just been washed, but there's an underlying yet strong scent of skin, of David, and Dirk's eyes nearly roll back into his head. He digs his nose further in, into that soft little hollow just above his brother's balls where the scrotum sags, pubes tickling his face, feels the soft weight of his cock on his cheek, and nearly sobs with the force of his ecstasy.

"Oh my God," Dirk moans, hands clutching at David's hips.

 

"I'll teach you," David promises. "Take care of you, make sure you have a nice time. I can't get drunk in the foreseeable future... But you can. You'd do that for me, wouldn’t you, Dirk?"

He knows the answer is yes. Just feeling Dirk exploring his body like this is answer enough already.

He sighs at the affection bestowed upon his legs and chuckles when Dirk kisses his feet and wiggles his toes playfully. They are a little cold, so the blanket is appreciated.

David flushes darkly when Dirk spreads his legs even further, feeling exposed and vulnerable in his brother's hands. Dirk would never hurt him, he reminds himself. He's loved here, loved and safe and free. Free of his collar, free of pain.

When Dirk just goes ahead and takes a big huff of his scent and noses his balls, David can't help the laughter escaping him. It's so adorable, and so very much the opposite of what has been done to him in his captivity that it's just pure relief.

He ruffles Dirk’s hair affectionately and asks, "You like it? Do I smell good?"

 

"Mhmm," Dirk answers, completely shameless in this moment. He'd roll in this if he could. As it is, he rubs his face against David's junk, like he's scenting it the way cats do.

A hand comes down to cradle David's scrotum against his lips, so that he can kiss each fat ball. His other hand moves from David's hip to his belly, right where it rises and falls with his breathing.

"You're good with family handlin' these jewels, right?" he asks, a little muffled - his mouth is busy pressing kisses everywhere, a little wet and sloppy, over David's balls, his limp dick, and back down even further, to his perineum. Dirk savors licking up that warm, intimate little space, over the seam, until his heavy balls are under his tongue. "Gotta make sure these are nice n' polished, all taken care of. Gonna be part of my inheritance one day, I hope."

Heady on the scent and the taste and the feeling, Dirk closes his mouth all the way around his brother's testicles, suckling them past his lips, stretched wide around David's size. His hand rubs up instead to loosely hold David's pretty cock, nuzzling the soft velvety skin of it, his nose brushing against a vein so faint blue and delicately raised it's like it was painted in its artistry.

 

"I'm not just good with family handling these jewels, I insist on it." David huffs and chuckles at Dirk's enthusiasm for his balls. It's cute, really.

"Silly boy," he chuckles. "You don't gotta inherit what you already own. All of me is just for you."

Mushy, but still true.

He wishes he could get hard and enjoy this properly, but this is still nice, intimate. Not to mention how cute Dirk is being, playing with David like he's his favorite toy in the world. He smiles, hand still buried in Dirk’s hair where it belongs.

 

Dirk makes a needy little noise, muffled by his mouth full of his brother's balls, at the idea of owning David. The permission of it, the trust — the impact is like an arrow straight down through Dirk's brain, shot from where David's hand touches him, piercing the cavity of his chest.

He can't quite make himself believe that he really owns the perfect, unbreakable man under him. But he wants to. He wants to sink his teeth into him, and be able to treat David like his, and his alone, and be owned in return.

David is so hot in his mouth. How long has he been unable to cum for, exactly? Dirk thinks Hal might know. His poor brother must be so pent up, enduring all of that torture without even the relief of release.

Dirk finally unlatches from David's nuts— his jaw is starting to ache, from how full and wide they stretch his mouth— leaving them slick and spit-shiny. It's fascinating how they sag from David's body, relaxed from the heat of Dirk's attentions. He brings them to his lips again, giving each a sweet kiss.

"You can go to sleep," Dirk mumbles, voice a little thick. He rubs his cheek against his brother's cock, before kissing along it, tender and warm from the base to the foreskin-hooded tip. His tongue darts out to taste the little exposed part of the pink head at the end, along the slit. He feels like he might be high on pheromones. "No need to get up if you need to piss. I got you covered, bromeo."

It's easier because David is soft; Dirk thinks he'd have a harder time gently, carefully slipping his brother's cockhead past his lips if he were thickened and hard. It'd be more of an effort to stretch enough to have him pillowed on Dirk's tongue, but flaccid, it's not so difficult.

David's penis is in his mouth. God. Dirk closes his eyes. His entire body throbs with arousal, and he wants to touch himself, but also really doesn't. More, he wants to be here in the moment with David— this intimate, special moment.

 

David can hardly believe that his gorgeous perfect brother, his son, his everything, is right here sucking on his nuts. He has had his fair share of dirty fantasies about Dirk since he returned, that's true, but somehow he still didn't think he'd get this far even after he made Dirk cum his brains out on his face.

Silly old man. Clearly this is where Dirk belongs. He looks content playing with David's cock, and David can't suppress a groan when he enters Dirk's mouth for the first time. God, he's so hot. Dirk's perfect lips enclosed around his dick are an image David will cherish forever, rosy red and puffy from kissing his brother so much. Perfect.

He chuckles, a low rumble going through his chest. "Kinky little boy. Don't worry, I'm gonna piss on and in you in time. You'd like that, right?" The hand caressing Dirk's hair moves down to cup his ear, then moves on to brush his neck. "I love that. I love that you'd let me do that to you. And I want to, I want us to try everything."

David sighs happily, content with everything right in this moment. "But today, I just want to relax with you, baby." He pets Dirk cheek with a dreamy expression before closing his eyes. "Fair warning that I really am gonna fall asleep soon..." He yawns. "Keep playing with me though, you have permission to do that whenever you want. My body is yours as much as it is mine."

Maybe that's a bit much to admit to while Dirk is sucking his cock. It feels just right though, so David doesn't fret about it and instead slowly drifts off to sleep, dreaming of Dirk's lips.

Notes:

davecest (David): @davecest.bsky.social
DD (Dirk): @digitaldaydream.bsky.social