Brotherly Strife

(A/N wrote this to get rid of the update frustration

cant find the artsource used for the cover so if you know please tell me)

Your name is Dave Strider and this is not what you signed up for. Not that there is anything you did sign up for in the most literal sense of the word. When you had accepted Dirk’s offer for a good ol’ fashioned strife you had not expected shit to hit the imaginary fan so quickly. Thinking back to the first time you laid eyes upon him you realise that you could have known. You should have known. He was just like him but at the same time he was so different. First off, he was younger and that changed a thing or two for you. Or three. Or eight. Maybe more.

The biggest problem? The dude was hot. “Texas summer heat when your fan had broken down and there wasn’t a swimming pool in a ten mile radius” level hot. This would have been fine, fan-fucking-tastic, if he had not been your brother. This little fact made your attraction towards him go from fine to “holy shit you sick fuck”. The longer you stared, which was a un-strider-level of cool but you were too mesmerised to do otherwise, the more little things you noticed. And every single thing made him more and more perfect. Shit. This wasn’t even ironic any more. This was as unironic as things could possibly get.  The invisible god of irony had just slapped you and made you his bitch because, damn, you would do anything to tap that ass. You cursed yourself mentally as there was no way you had just allowed yourself to have those thoughts. Yet that was without a doubt the finest ass you had ever seen. You let your eyes wander up as you followed the movements of his back that was turned to you. You could see his muscles move when he rolled his shoulders and popped his neck. His back was lean and toned and bare and it took you everything you had not to run your hands down it.

You were fucked. About as fucked as one could possibly be in a situation even closely resembling this one. When he turned around with a smirk on his face and asked you if you were ready for another round, you nearly downright squeeked, if you had not been to cool for that. Which you are. You are the king of cool. No one can tell you anything else because they would be so wrong. You were pretty certain, however, that you were not in the least ready for another round but no way in hell you were going to tell him that. Clearing your throat and picking up your sword, you managed to nod at him before he approached you.

He was an amazingly good fighter for an autodidact and he surprised you with every move he made. He was fast, he was quiet, his moves were smooth and carefully thought out and he made it very hard for you. Keeping up with his deliberately aimed blows wasn’t too difficult at first but as the fight progressed it became very clear to you that he had been holding back. He had you working harder and harder in order to not get impaled on his katana. You had no intentions of becoming dave-kebab anytime soon. You also found yourself getting more and more distracted by the way his muscles moved as he flash-stepped and even more so when you saw a tiny droplet of sweat roll down his chest and his lower abdomen and into the waistband of his jeans. You almost heard yourself swallow nervously. Fuck.

Too entranced by that one little droplet you barely noticed when a sword hilt came crashing down onto your nose. But then the pain hit and you cursed loudly and you made a grab for your nose. Blood came pouring out of it quickly and you heard Dirk drop his katana and make his way over to you.

‘Shit, Dave! I’m so sorry I thought you were going to block that!’ He put a hand on your shoulder and tried to pry your hand away from your nose with the other. And shit he was so close you could feel the heat radiate off of him.  

‘S’okay.’ You groaned. ‘Not your fault.’ You were glad your shades were still safely perched on your face so he could not see how your pupils had dilated from his mere proximity- oh shit he was reaching out. ‘Don’t.’ You managed to croak out as you flinched away from him.

‘Dammit, Dave!’ He frowned at you. ‘Your nose is probably broken you need to take your fucking shades off!’ Nope not happening. You shook your head. ‘Stop being such a pussy!’ Dirk nearly growled at you before taking a deep breath to calm himself. ‘Look, if it’ll make you feel better I’ll take mine off too.’ Before you could object to this plan he had already pushed his shades up into his hair and was looking at you sternly. The deep shade of perfection (uh orange, you had definitely meant orange) of his eyes made the whole situation even worse. Worse for you, at least. You could simply not make yourself look away and that gave him the opportunity to grab your shades. Red met orange and your last mental objections fell away as you basically attacked his lips with yours. You made a grab for his neck and moved your lips against his almost desperately only to find him unresponsive and frozen. You felt the heat in your cheeks rise as you stepped back and turned to fucking abscond the hell out of there. He was faster, however, and made a grab for your wrist.

‘What the hell was that?’ He demanded, his voice coming out as a hiss. You had fucked up real bad, that much was certain. What to do now? Play dumb? Play dumb.

‘I have no idea what you’re on about, Dirk. Will you let go I’m in a bit of a hurry, Rose needed me.’ He pulled on your arm and you stumbled closer. You had just lost three million cool points in the last five minutes and you were not sure if you even had any left.

‘Stop fucking around. Did you just kiss me?’

‘No.’ You responded. Eyes darting around almost nervously before you remembered that they were not shielded by your shades. His grip tightened until you were pretty sure that he would turn your arm to mush. Just as you were about to tell him to loosen his grip he caught you by surprise by softly, gently pressing his lips to yours. It was too soft for your liking, too kind, too loving. So you pulled away. His eyes widened in surprise.

‘The fuck was that for?’ he seemed confused, you couldn’t really blame him. You also had a fair share of confusion built up inside your head.

‘Do you think I’ll fucking break?’ you snapped at him, grabbing a tight hold on the back of his neck. ‘I’m not a paperdoll, dickhead.’ And you crushed your mouth into his again. This time he didn’t pull away and kissed back. The kiss was anything but a kiss shared between two lovers. The kiss was all biting and teeth knocking together and groaning from both of you and shit you were full on making out with your brother and you liked it. You were pretty fucking sure that there was a rule against incestuous behaviour back on earth but the way he sucked on your lower lip drove away all coherent thoughts. You let out an almost scandalously loud moan that you would have denied if someone ever were to bring it up to you because nu-uh that had not been you. His nails were digging into your back, through your shit, and your hands were tightly gripping onto his shoulder. You had moved the hand on his shoulder down to his backside when your phone interrupted. An annoyed groan from you and an agitated sound from him as you pulled away.

  STRIDER WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!  WE STILL HAVE THAT BOOK ON QUADRANTS TO FINISH! GET YOUR PALE DUMB ASS INTO THE LIVING AREA RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!

You groaned again and wiped a hand down your face. You had completely forgotten about story time with Karkat.

‘Gotta go man.’ You tell Dirk who looks anything but happy and you inwardly cringe at the face he’s making. ‘We’ll continue this later.’

‘Don’t count on it.’ And he was gone.

Fuck.

(A/N this is shit. I am shit.

Dave and Karkat aren’t dating in this one, more like moirails

I might make a smut chapter as a follow up when I’m back home)