Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter7
Chapter 8: Sloppy Makeouts!
Dirk ==> Sloppy Makeouts!
(Warning! Dirk is an incubus. More than sloppy makeouts happen in this chapter. Read at your own risk!)
You’d like to spend the whole night with Jake on top of you, kissing and cuddling, but you do have responsibility. It’s with the deepest reluctance that you pull yourself away from him and remind him that you have work to do.
Tonight, you have to park a couple blocks away from the bar just to get a parking spot. When you reach Bro’s lounge, you’re shocked to find that in the matter of one evening, Bro and the Nitrams have completely revamped the place. The windows are not only completely fixed, they’re tinted to give the place a desirably smoky look. The awning above the door has been replaced with a posh matted black material, and above that something catches your attention that makes you give pause for a moment.
Above the doorway, in bright friendly letters, the word “Haven” is proudly displayed. Over the years, Bro had always referred to his lounge as a haven for otherworldly creatures and demons such as yourselves, but never had he bothered to actually give the place a name. Looks like the Nitrams finally pushed him into it. The sign is a bit louder than you’d like, but you think the name fits.
Inside, it’s so packed that you can barely squeeze through. Every seat is taken and even the standing space is filled with people. Demons, humans, all crowding together drinking and chattering. The Nitrams have certainly done their work.
All the demonic patrons of the bar have a way of blending in with the masses. You’re lucky, because your eyes are the only thing that would really give you away. And your horrible aversion to anything holy, but that’s simple enough to avoid. Unless Jane Crocker happens to be around.
Despite everyone’s natural abilities to blend in, getting enough demons together in a bar tends to have this additive effect of bringing your differences out. Even though they quite possibly stand out the most, the Nitrams have a way of charming the suspicion out of people. Humans don’t even think about the existence of demons when they’re around, despite what they may see and hear. It’s an incredibly useful talent. You wonder how long Bro plans to exploit them for it.
You take Jake’s hand and pull him through the crowd.
Once you make it past the employees only door you finally heave a sigh of relief.
“Like the new look?” Bro asks, materializing out of nowhere beside you. “Bet it’d be easy now to find someone to—oohhhh—”
He stops mid-sentence and looks at you. Bro’s still wearing his shades, but you know that his gaze flicks over to Jake before it settles back on you. Wordlessly, he offers you a fist-bump.
You bump his fist back but roll your eyes behind your own shades. You should have known he’d figure you and Jake out immediately. Goddamn telepaths.
“How is John?” you ask, ready to get the attention off you.
Bro indicates toward his office with a jerk of his head. “Kid’s still asleep. Dave’s worried sick. Like literally, little shit puked in my trashcan a couple times already. Waste of perfectly good sasquatch blood.”
You shudder, glad you’re not the one who had to drink it.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn,” he assures you. He goes on to ask, “like what the Nitrams have done with the place?”
“It’s an improvement over yesterday,” you agree. “Where are they?”
“In the crowd somewhere, doing their thing,” Bro says, waving in the general direction of the lounge. “Everyone’s making sure they don’t let the humans party too hard.”
You smirk. Only an issue the Nitrams would have.
“Anyway, Dave’s not going anywhere tonight which means you’ve got some work to do,” Bro says, handing you a sheet with the night’s assignments on them.
You skim over the page and frown. “This is it?”
“Despite all the new informants we have out there, there isn’t much news. Derse is lying low,” Bro says with a very slight frown. “That means they’re planning something. Keep your guard up. We have no idea when they might strike.”
With an uneasy feeling, you leave the bar and prepare for the night.
* * *
Dirk ==> Work it!
You mean, go to work, right?
Sure. You and Jake make short work of the zombies haunting a supermarket and quickly wipe the remnants of some overzealous imps from a junkyard nearby. And that’s it.
Bro wasn’t kidding. Derse is laying really low. It bothers you.
Jake seems less than bothered. In fact, you’d say he’s positively chipper tonight. When he drags you to the movie theater a few minutes later, you realize why.
“No. Please. Not that. Anything but that,” you say, completely deadpan, as Jake shows you the movie tickets he picked up.
“Stop being such a ninny,” Jake swats at your shoulder and grins, handing a ticket to you. “I’ll get you orange sodaaaa,” he says, his voice lilting off suggestively.
You can’t argue with that. So a few minutes later, you find yourself watching quite possibly the worst horror film you’ve ever seen and sipping delicious orange soda.
“Dude, that’s totally ketchup,” you point out, as a head goes flying across the screen, thick goopy red material dripping off the severed end. “They couldn’t even spring the extra five bucks for fake blood from the Halloween store?”
“Ssh!” Jake shushes you. “You’ll ruin the good part!”
Nevermind that Jake thinks all the parts are “the good part.”
You really can’t be bothered with watching this movie right now, so instead you turn your attention to Jake. His hair, that’s somehow feathered and fluffy, his bright green eyes that are widened and trained on the screen, and the adorable way his front teeth peek out from his slightly parted lips.
He’s your boyfriend now. Boyfriend. Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend.
You think the happy word over and over, and you don’t even realize the soft smile that crosses your lips.
timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 11:25
TT: I think someone owes their intelligent and incredibly sexy computer counterpart a “thank you.” That someone is you.
You can’t help rolling your eyes as the bright orange text scrolls across the lenses of your shades. “You’re lucky it went well,” you think back at him. “You don’t know how close I was to deleting you.”
TT: Ouch. You hurt me, bro. Cause you know I haven’t had ages to backup my program anywhere. That could have been the end of me. The fucking end.
“Point made. What do you want?” You think back to him.
TT: Not much. Just the sweet satisfaction of knowing I was right. I was right first.
“Goddamn, was I always this much of a cocky asshole?”
TT: First. First. I was right first. You can’t hear it, but I’m making a song out of this. A beautiful symphony of righteousness.
You pointedly ignore AR as he gloats on for the next half hour and instead slowly move your hand over to Jake’s. He sighs lightly when you brush your fingers together, entwining them and clasping them loosely.
Jake grins, flicking his gaze over at you for one brief moment before returning his attention to the screen. Just in time to see the oatmeal for guts spray out of someone. Joy.
But his hand tightens around yours, and he leans his shoulder into yours, getting more comfy. You lean back into him, lightly resting your heads together. Your shades protest, tilting up a little into his hair, but you don’t care.
AR continues to ramble on as you close your eyes and just enjoy the warmth of Jake’s body next to yours.
* * *
Dirk ==> Fast Forward
The following days are uneventful. You start hearing talk of “Haven” all over town, and it isn’t long before you have to start using the back employee entrance just to get inside. Kanaya now stands guard at the door, keeping at bay the hundreds of people waiting to get inside with her chainsaw. None dare to defy her. Bro doesn’t seem to mind the extra patronage, though Karkat looks even more furious than usual about having to deal with the “fuckton of nookwhiffing bulgelickers” every night. Whatever that means.
Somewhere around day four or five, John wakes up. Your little bro is happier than you’ve ever seen him.
You were actually around when it happened. Dave looked miserable, laying on the couch in Bro’s office in what you swear was the same position he was in last night. Did the kid even move? There were streaks from fresh tears on his face. After so many days, Bro must have forced him to change into one of his shirts, which was way too big and hung loosely off Dave.
Huh, strange. Rainbow Dash? You never knew Bro was a fan.
Had you not been walking into Bro’s office to retrieve your assignment, you think Dave probably would have continued sleeping. But as you rudely barged through the door, you woke him up. And you woke someone else up too.
“Go the fuck away,” Dave moaned, rolling slightly over to the side.
“Mmm…” John’s murmur was barely audible. You could hear the rustling of him lightly struggling to squirm out of the small blue blanket Kanaya made for him earlier in the week. “…Dave?”
Dave woke up quicker than you’ve ever seen, sitting up and holding John carefully in his hands as the fairy sleepily began rubbing his eyes. “John? Holy fucking shit please tell me you’re really awake and this isn’t just some douchery that my mind is pulling on me while I’m asleep. I’ll be so pissed if this is like Inception. Don’t need Joseph Gordon-Levitt all up in my business telling me what to think.”
You’re a little impressed that you remember his ramble.
John laughed, his voice sounding a little hoarse from sleeping so long. “Yes Dave. This is all a dream. Soon Nic Cage is going to bust through the wall riding a motorcycle and take us to Neverland.”
“That reference is lame. The lamest of lames. And it makes no sense. No way my brain would have come up with that,” Dave said, pulling John close to his chest. Fondly, he stroked John’s back with his thumb. It was quiet, but you’re pretty sure he murmured, “I’m so fucking happy you’re back.”
You and Jake were too.
After that, Dave starts taking his share of the work again, which leaves you with even less to do. Most days you finish after an hour or two and spend the rest of the evening chilling comfortably in your bromance—romance—with Jake. Although, things haven’t gone as far as you’d like. He’s still an excellent kisser, but you don’t get to feel those lips nearly enough. You’ve decided that there are two main reasons for this.
One is that Jake runs-headfirst-into-danger English is incredibly shy about PDA. What the ever-loving fuck? He flushes most adorably when you pat his butt in public (even if there’s nobody around) and just the thought of kissing out in the open turns him into a rambling mess that reminds you very much of your little bro.
Speaking of which, after John woke up, Bro decided Dave couldn’t keep sleeping on his couch anymore. And after the attack, he wouldn’t let him live on his own. He gave Dave one of two options. Either move in with him or you.
Dave chose you.
And so it was that you gave your room to your little bro and once again moved all your shit out into the living room. Second-hand futon. Best bed.
You honestly don’t mind sleeping on the futon, considering how rarely you sleep anyway. If you really wanted to, you could turn your workshop room into a bedroom, but why bother? There’s so much clutter in there that you doubt you’d be able to fit even a pile of blankets or anything to fall asleep on in there.
It doesn’t bother you. For the first couple days.
Around the third day after Dave moved in, you begin to feel decidedly agitated. You want nothing more than to grab Jake and kiss him, and taste him, and screw him. He’s your boyfriend now, damnit! He’s been your boyfriend for over a week. You’re entitled to these things!
But you know that he will never do any of that with your little bro around and John (who has also moved in with you.) It’s aggravating, and you feel like you’ve never been this annoyed with your little bro before. How many years did he live with you and you never cared?
It’s not even a space thing. You could care less that he parades around the place in nothing but his boxers and shades, or that he eats your food. You even go out of your way to buy apple juice for the kid because you know he loves it. You like having Dave around to joke with him, strife with him, and watch shitty ass movies with him.
But you’re really hating it too. And you can’t put your finger on why.
You don’t figure it out until John flies into your chest to give you a big hug, pathetically happy that you’ve recently purchased a collection of Nic Cage films for a glorious marathon this weekend.
And all you want to do is screw him.
Oh fuck fuck fuck.
You snort a bit at your horrible choice of mental swear words. John looks up at you, his bright blue eyes full of questions you’d rather not answer. You tap him lightly on the back a couple times, your way of hugging him back. John immediately brightens and flies away to share the good news of the upcoming marathon with Dave.
You do what you always do when you feel a mental crisis coming on. Take a shower.
About half an hour into the shower, Dave’s banging on the door, whining about how you’re taking all the hot water. You tell him to shove off, and he does.
Right now you want to be anywhere but here. You’ve been so wrapped up in dating Jake and not screwing anything up that you had neglected feeding your inner demon. But now that you’re aware of it, your incubus side is even more ravished than before. Jake’s human food does a decent job of satisfying you, but you do have other needs. Needs that you don’t think you’ll be able to ignore much longer.
It’s tearing you apart from inside, leaving a raw burning chasm that you can’t fill. You crave sex. You need it. You’ll die without it.
But Jake doesn’t seem ready for that yet. You don’t want to push him, but you don’t want to cheat on him either. And you don’t really want to die.
It’s a problem. A problem you aren’t sure you can solve right now.
So you do what you do best. Ignore it.
You emerge from the shower hours late for work. Dave’s tapping his foot in annoyance. “How long ago did the hot water run out?”
“About an hour and a half ago,” you admit with your best I-don’t-give-a-shit shrug.
He growls something back and takes the shortest Strider shower in history.
You walk out of your apartment, the light of the crescent moon above guiding your way. Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe you can just ignore your want. If you can wait a little longer, Jake might be ready. If you can just wait a little longer—
It hits you again when you all pack into your Jeep. You half-stumble into your Jeep, causing Dave to look at you with concern, but you wave it off. He arches an eyebrow but doesn’t question you.
You desperately want to screw something. More than want. Your body’s telling you that you need it badly.
No, definitely not now.
You grip the steering wheel a little tighter and distract yourself by glancing into the rear view mirror, watching Dave and John banter back and forth with Jake about which Nic Cage movie to start with later tonight. It’s obvious that Jake and John both truly love all of those movies, and your bro, little snot that he is, is gleefully egging them on.
“Dude, National Treasure 2. It’s his best movie,” Dave says, completely straight-faced as he subtly pokes John.
“Ohhh you’re right, it’s SO good! But Con Air’s still my favorite!” John exclaims.
“I must say, National Treasure is a top-notch piece of cinema!” Jake agrees whole-heartedly. “It’s almost as good as Ghost Rider. The special effect when his head becomes a flaming skull is simply magnificent! Wouldn’t you agree, Strider?”
It takes you a moment to realize that he’s talking to you and not Dave. With your practiced expressionless face, you say, “I’m disappointed, English. How could you forget The Wicker Man?”
This starts both Jake and John on a loud and long tirade of exclamations, Jake acknowledging that it’s a piece of the highest-quality cinema and John lamenting that there was never a sequel. Dave glances up just barely, and you know he’s looking at you in the rear view mirror too. He gives you a half-smirk. You think he just might be starting to forgive you for using up all the hot water.
When you get to work, Bro takes one look at you and ushers you into his office. He shuts the door behind him with a sense of finality, leaving the others bewildered outside. “Dude, not cool.”
“What?” you ask, feeling defiant as you stand by his desk as nonchalantly as you possibly can. He’s standing right next to you, and though he’s about your height, somehow through sheer presence and force of will he feels fifty feet taller. You do your best look as Strider-calm as you can.
He doesn’t buy it.
“Cut the shit,” Bro says. Half a second later, his hands are on your head. Before you have a chance to react, he’s grasped the back of your hair, pulling your head back with one hand and tipping your shades down with the other. He looks into your orange eyes, which you know from looking in the mirror this morning are bleeding a shade of red unnatural for even your kind.
One good look is all he needs before he’s releasing your head, swearing a little under his breath. You push your shades back up indignantly but don’t say anything.
“How long ago did you last feed?” he finally asks.
“Jake made pancakes this morning,” you answer petulantly.
“That is not what I fucking meant and you know it,” Bro growls lowly. “Answer the question.”
You don’t answer him.
Bro prowls closer into your personal space than you’d like. You don’t need your incubus skills to know that he is more than pissed at you. His voice lowers, and you know he means business when he demands again, “how long ago?”
“Not really sure,” you finally admit. A lot has been happening recently, and you haven’t kept track. “Maybe a couple weeks ago?”
“Oh fuck no, I am not dealing with this whiny-ass emo shit,” Bro growls, pacing away and taking off his cap so that he can rake both hands through his hair. After a moment, he glares back at you and points a finger in your direction. “I’m only gonna say this once, so you’d better listen to me. You know what happens if you don’t eat. You die. And you might hurt or kill other people close to you in the process.”
You stay silent as he moves in closer, until you can feel the angered heat radiating from his body next to yours. “I know you just started dating Jake, and I’m happy for you. I want you and Dave to both have the happiness I never did. But don’t let it mess with your head. Even Dave knows that he needs to eat. He and John have talked about it.”
“They have?” you finally wonder aloud.
“Yes, they have,” Bro snarls back. “And you and Jake had better have that conversation pronto. In fact—”
Bro trails off, stalking to the door and throwing it open. Like a Warner Brothers cartoon, Dave, John, and Jake are all crouched near the ground, eagerly listening just outside. He grabs Jake, pulling him into the office. Then he thrusts a piece of paper into Dave’s hands. “It’s all you tonight lil’ man. Dirk’s out of commission. Go.”
Dave’s eyebrows rise just above the line of his shades, but he doesn’t say anything. With a silent nod, he takes the paper and leaves.
Bro turns to you and says, “I’m leaving now. Gonna take care of some business. You two. Figure your shit out. Now.”
With a sense of finality, he closes the door behind him.
You and Jake are left standing awkwardly in his office. The slow ticking of Bro’s desk clock that you never seem to notice is suddenly deafening. Jake stares at you. You stare at Jake.
This couldn’t get more awkward.
“So umm, I couldn’t hear everything through the door, but Bro wants us to talk?” Jake asks. He thinks for a moment, then adds on, “— about sex?”
Correction. It could get more awkward.
“Yeah. Yeah, he does,” You sigh slowly, removing your shades and pressing your thumb and forefinger lightly to your eyes. After a good few moments, you look up into his emerald eyes and finally say, “you know what I am. I don’t need to remind you.”
Jake slowly nods his head. “You’re a— a succubus.”
You wince a little, but you give him points for trying. “I’d prefer incubus, but yeah. You’ve got the idea.”
You were kind of hoping that Jake would put two and two together from that, but he continues to stare at you expectantly. The look in his eyes is eager, with just a touch of concern. You get the feeling that what you’ve got to tell him will hurt him. It makes your nerves tingle and a heavy weight settle in your stomach.
Suddenly you hate Bro, and you hate that he’s making you have this talk with Jake. Doesn’t he realize that you could lose the only real boyfriend you’ve ever had over this?
Because, even though you’ve only been dating a few days, Jake is the only boyfriend that you’ve ever really cared for. Sure, through the decades, they’ve come and gone. And they weren’t exactly little flings either. Rufioh was definitely a thing for a while, platonic though it was. Bro was positively pissed at how long your destructive relationship with Caliborn lasted. When the two of you finally split, he and Dave both threw you the most ironically grandiose “eligible bachelor” party ever. They filled Bro’s lounge with phallic shaped balloons and even had pony rides and a petting zoo.
But you do love your bros. And you know that they both want what’s best for you. Bro wouldn’t have done this otherwise.
With Caliborn, Rufioh, and all the other guys you ever dated, you never hesitated to show your affections from day one. But with Jake, it’s a little different. You actually give a fuck about him, and you really don’t want to mess things up.
That’s why when he continues to stare at you, painfully unaware of what you’re trying to tell him, you feel a horrible wrenching in your chest. You’ve got to be man enough to tell him someday. Looks like that day is today.
“Jake, you remember what I eat, right? You know, besides your breakfasts?” You murmur quietly, still determinedly looking into his eyes without your shades. You know that he can see every bit of emotion that you usually hide behind your dark sunglasses, and that makes you feel weird. But you think you owe it to him to at least know what you’re thinking. If this whole mess heads south, then you’ll know that at least you tried.
“I—recall, yes,” he stammers slowly, a flush rising to his cheeks. Goddamn is he adorable. You really hope you don’t fuck this up.
“I told you from day one that I’d never make you do something you don’t want to do. Guess I already broke that, but I’m keeping my word from here out,” you say, working up the nerve and bravado to continue with what may be the sappiest line you’ve ever allowed yourself to utter. “Jake English, I care about you, and I don’t want to lose you. I’ll never make you do something that you don’t want to do.”
His eyes continue to fill with concern, his eyebrows raising and his pupils constricting with the concentration he’s placing on you. It’s clear that realization is slowly beginning to dawn on him. He doesn’t speak, though. He’s waiting for you to finish.
“But I have to eat,” you say quietly. “I’ll die soon if I don’t.”
He opens his mouth, looking like he’s about to say something, but you interject quickly. You have to get everything out before you lose your resolve.
“I’ll wait for you as long as it takes until you’re ready. After that, I’ll never betray you,” you say, your voice full of conviction and your resolve unwavering. A strangely touching and simultaneously horrible realization dawns on you right after you say those words.
You’ll die for Jake English.
Holy fuck. When did you fall this hard for him? When did that happen? It’s only been a few goddamned months.
You’re certain Bro would strife you right now and beat the living shit out of you if he knew what was going through your head.
Or maybe he does know. Maybe he figured that out already. Maybe that’s why he forced you to have this painfully awkward conversation.
You avert your eyes, not wanting to see the pain in his expression as you finally bring up what you’d been too afraid to say before. “But until then, I hope you don’t mind if I find sustenance elsewhere. I think you know what that means.”
“Strider, mate, I-I never realized you were,” Jake stammers, his voice trailing off abruptly. His arms are around you before you get the chance to glance back up at him. He’s warm, and nuzzling his cheek to yours, and gripping your shirt tightly, as if you might fly away from him, and it feels so damned good. He tucks his chin in the crook between your shoulder and neck and murmurs softly into your ear, “you never needed to wait for me. I never expected that. You are completely mind boggling, Dirk!”
You hum lightly, taking the opportunity to embrace him back. His black t-shirt fits tightly to him, and you can feel the cords of his muscle beneath your fingertips. He smells divine. You want him. You want him so badly. And you think maybe he wants you?
It’s taking him a little while to respond. You’re not sure where he’s going with this. You kind of don’t want to know. Already, you’re getting your hopes up, but really, you know that you shouldn’t.
It’s likely that you’ll end up screwing a complete stranger again tonight. Another meaningless routine just to continue living. It’s always been a part of life for you, but you never realized just how much you hated it. Not until now, when you are so close and yet so distant from someone you really care about.
Suddenly, there’s meaning in the act. It’s no longer a game of horizontal tango. It’s something that could potentially hurt the one you care the most about.
But Jake doesn’t sound upset at all. He doesn’t seem to mind the idea of you carrying on as usual, but you can’t be completely certain. Jake is befuddling. It’s something you both love and hate about him. You never know what he’s going to do next. You squint your eyes ever so slightly, trying to best estimate his next move.
He does something you least expected him to do.
Jake chuckles. Gently, he caresses the back of your neck, weaving his fingers into your perfectly styled hair, and again you just can’t seem to bring yourself to care. Not with Jake. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
Your eyes are widening. You think you know where this is going, and damn it this had better not be a farce. “Huh?” you say smartly.
He pulls back, so that you can see his face. There’s a small shy grin on his lips and his eyes are full of coquettish mischief. He exhales a light breathy laugh and says, “Dirk, I’m no stranger to sex.”
If you had a beating heart, you’re certain it would have stopped. You replay Jake’s last sentence over in your mind 5 times before you risk grinning and saying, “about fucking time.”
Your lips are together again, and it’s magic. You consider yourself an expert at this, and Jake’s kisses are blissfully sinful. His mouth is warm and his lips move in a way that makes your entire body tingle. When he deepens the kiss, you eagerly pull at his tongue with your own. He tastes even better than you last remember. His beautiful viridian energy hits your tongue in a rush, and you pull it to you fervently. You want him so badly.
Suddenly, you remember why you’re feeling this way. Yeah, Jake is a sexy piece of meat, but you’re also a starving incubus. If you aren’t careful, you could kill Jake tonight.
Regretfully, you pull away from him, already feeling the warming prickle of his energy seeping through your body. After just that one kiss, you’re already feeling better. Your head is clearing, and suddenly you definitely know you shouldn’t continue here.
Jake looks confused, his eyebrows knitting up in question. “I thought you wanted to—”
“More than anything,” you respond quickly. “But not here. Bro’s fond of video cameras. Everywhere.”
A look of understanding dawns on Jake’s face. His cheeks flush a bit, likely from the embarrassment of knowing Bro will probably watch your kiss later. If he hasn’t already. He stammers, “o-oh. Is that so? Well then, yes, you’re quire right! We should relocate elsewhere.”
It takes you five seconds to grab Jake’s hand, pull him outside Bro’s office and out the back door. Seconds later, you’re in your Jeep and peeling down the street.
* * *
Dirk ==> Sex it up!
You don’t make it far after stumbling into your apartment. Your lips are together quickly, fingers pulling at hair, caressing skin, tugging away clothing. The door is closed as an afterthought. Clothing is shed like a summer rain all over the floor on the way to Jake’s bedroom.
Jake manages to push his door closed, and you don’t even bother locking it. If Dave happens to come in here despite all the warning signs outside, it’s his own damned fault.
You fall easily onto Jake’s unmade bed, which dips generously in the middle from your combined weight. The window is wide open, but you don’t give a fuck. Who’s going to be peeking in at you this high up off the ground?
The moonlight highlights Jake’s naked body in the most delightful way, catching the ridges of his taut muscles, his skin, his dick— You dip your head down and start kissing him everywhere.
From this point, it’s usually all routine. Your body knows the best angles, where and how to kiss to give your lover the most pleasure. And even if he happens to be different, you can immediately sense what he likes best.
Feeling your lover’s pleasure is part of your gift. When you kiss Jake in the sensitive place at the crook of his neck, you hear his soft gasp and feel his charged emerald life-force rush over your lips. You lap every delicious bit up hungrily and search for more things that will make Jake moan.
You don’t let this fall into the normal routine. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t. Jake is different from all the others that you’ve ever bedded, if for no other reason, then simply for the fact that you love him. You actually love him.
And what a difference it makes.
When Jake lightly caresses your skin, he stokes a delicious fire within you. He touches you in ways that nobody else ever has. And you don’t mean physically. You’ve been with excellent lovers, some who were arguably as talented and possibly well versed as you are. But when Jake’s fingers brush your skin, they brush your soul. There’s an undeniable warmth growing in your chest. A sense of happiness and elation that you never felt with any of your other lovers.
He strokes your hip and you exhale into the skin of his neck. He squeezes your ass and you want to bite him. He yanks you back roughly by the hair, and you moan into his lips. He kisses you and it’s wildfire running through your veins.
Jake has you, and you have him. And now that you have found him, you’re never letting him go.
His breaths are heavy and warm, and it isn’t long before you can see the want behind his eyes. And feel his hardness on your thigh.
You grin, gently pushing him onto his back. Slowly, you work your way down his body, pressing kisses into his warm skin, watching his expression falter, hearing his breath hitch. Without any clothing in the way, you’re free to taste him everywhere, and it’s so fucking good. You’re hyper in-tuned to every roll of his delicious energy, and you make note of what Jake likes.
Jake likes it when you rake your fingernails against the back of his neck. You’d bet anything he’d like it if you bit him there too, but you’ll save that for later. Jake’s breath catches in his throat as your tongue dips into the sensitive crook behind his collarbone. He doesn’t do much when you lightly circle a nipple, but he exhales a shaky, ragged breath as you trail your fingers down his torso, stopping to admire the taut ridges of muscle he’s worked up over the years.
Jake English is in excellent shape. You take a moment just to appreciate his fully naked body.
Your fingers dance around your prize to caress his inner thigh, and he whines in frustration. It’s music to your ears. Jake has many flattering assets, including his dick, which you can confidently say is on the larger end of the scale.
Jake English has no patience. As usual, he’s ready to spring into things, and he rolls his hips up in an effort to make contact with your skin anywhere he can. You tisk at him and lightly shake your head. “What’s the rush, English? We’ve got all night.”
You’ve been told in the past that you can be a cock-tease. You find absolutely no shame in that. Quite the opposite, you pride yourself on your ability to hold out and make your lovers beg you for release.
But you don’t feel like torturing Jake. At least, not tonight. So, instead you settle for something in between. Calmly, casually, you pin his hips down firmly with your palms and lick from the base to the tip of his shaft in one slow, long motion. And oh, again, that whine! The sound that comes from Jake’s throat is somehow both strangulated and beautiful, and you want to hear more.
To hell with the Jake torture. You’re throwing that idea out the window right now. You love this man, and you’re going to show him just what you can do.
You lavish attention on his dick, taking him all the way down your throat until your nose is buried in the warm fuzzy hair at the base—that smells like Jake– and holy hell do you want this man. He’s gasping above you, his fingers entwining in your hair as you suck and swallow him again and again. His legs tense around you, and you have to fight to keep his hips down.
Has Jake ever had a blowjob before? You’re certain he would have choked any other partner several times by now with his aggressive nature and insistent thrusts. Good thing you’re not just any other partner.
That reminds you of exactly what you are, and you actually pull back at the thought. You’re a demon. An incubus. And you’ve been feeding off the delicious energy rolling off Jake hungrily, but you’re still starving.
You really don’t want to kill Jake tonight. You love him too much for that.
Jake lifts his head up, panting heavily and looking at you with the most adorably confused expression. “Did-did I hurt you?”
Quickly you shake your head. “No, you’re fine, English.” Gently, you reach up and caress the wisps of hair near his forehead, lightly pushing his head back down onto the bed. “Just enjoy this and—tell me if you start getting light-headed or anything.”
“Wha—?” is all he manages to say before your mouth is on him again. The words die in his throat in a small gasp, and his hands fly back to your head, insistently pushing you down onto his dick. Holy hell, have you ever been with a partner so aggressive?
You think back on it. No, you don’t think so. You made out with Eridan once, and that was pretty intense, but it was nothing like this. Caliborn had an unusual definition of loving, but that was different too. Jake English is in a class of his own.
You lavish attention on him, sucking his hardness and squeezing his thighs, insisting that he keep them in place. Jake’s starting to become more vocal, his little whines growing louder and more frequent. You can feel his dick swelling in your mouth, down your throat, and you know that he isn’t going to last too much longer.
Sure enough, Jake takes a shaky breath and fixes you with an adorable and vulnerable expression, a slight haze in his eyes and the dusting of a flush across his cheeks. “D-Dirk—I think—I think I’m—”
He doesn’t get farther than that. You don’t let him. One decisively hard suck is all it takes to make him spill his delicious warmth down your throat. You swallow it, naturally. You’re not about to pass that up. For some reason that you’ll never understand, it fills your incubus urges far better than the rest of the blowjob possibly could.
You sigh softly, finally deliciously sated. Gently, you release him from your mouth and his hips from your grip. You kiss the tip, licking away the remnants of his love that spill out a little late.
The small huffs of Jake’s breath begin to slow down, and finally, he looks up at you, fixing you with the brightest eyes and a small shy smile. “Golly, Strider, I’m sorry I—”
You hush him with a chaste kiss on the lips. “No need to apologize. Why do you think I did it?”
“But you— you’re not,” Jake stammers in a very roundabout and endearing way. You know exactly what he is trying to say, and you could help him out. But, watching him struggle is too cute to pass up. He tries again. “You didn’t—come? Is that the right term around these parts?”
By this point, his cheeks are bright red with embarrassment. You kiss each of them gently and murmur gently in his ear, “it’s ok, English. Your pleasure’s all that matters.”
He shivers, and you’re not sure if he likes what you’ve said or if he’s cold. You really hope it’s the former. You lay in the crux between his body and the wall and begin to pull the covers over you both, but he stills your hand adamantly. “No, this simply isn’t right!”
You pause, watching him, curious to see where he’s going with this.
He turns to face you, his hand slowly, hesitantly working its way south. He rests it on your stomach, just shy of your sex. “I don’t care if you’re—what you are.”
His cheeks are flushed again, and you can’t help the grin that comes to your face. You fleck a finger playfully atop his nose and murmur, “—an incubus?”
“Yes that,” he mutters quickly.
“Say it,” you demand softly. Not because you care, but because you want to see his reaction.
You’re not disappointed. Jake gasps, the flush deepening on his cheeks, and he stammers, “I—wait, why?”
“Because I want to hear you say it,” you trail your finger down his cheek and neck, lightly caressing the tender skin at the back of his neck. He shudders, and yes, you have really fallen hard for this man.
You start kissing the crux of his neck, the sensitive place you mapped out earlier, coaxing a soft gasp out of him. “I-incubus…” he moans.
You are so hard for him. But Jake has never had a boyfriend before, and you really don’t want to scare him away with the first day of sex. The incubus inside you is satisfied, and that’s good enough for you right now.
So you kiss him again and gently stop his hand from moving further down your body. Instead, you clasp his hand fondly in your own and murmur into his ear, “maybe tomorrow, Jake.”
He shivers again. This time, when you pull the covers up over you both, he doesn’t stop you.
Some of you may have noticed that I’m fond of updating on Thursdays. It’s a phenomenon I like to call “Update Thursday,” because really, what else is there to look forward to on a Thursday? Jack shit, that’s what.
I’ve tried to update every Thursday since beginning this story, and I’ll continue to do my best. But unfortunately, after this point, I may not be able to update every “Update Thursday.” Sadly, I’ve run out of buffer chapters, and Life is busy. You know the drill.
But that doesn’t mean that I love you any less! I always appreciate likes, adds, and the ever so elusive “comments.” I’ll keep doing my best to bring you Dirk and Jake’s story as quickly as I can.
Love to you all, and best wishes for a very happy holiday season!