Warning! Dirk is still an incubus. This chapter is most definitely NSFW.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10
Chapter 11: The Midnight Crew
The next few days you spend in quiet comfortable peace with Jake. You manage to repair your rocketboard within a day and hightail it out of the fairy forest asap. Dave immediately whines and complains, and you promise to bring him back sometime soon if he just shuts up about it.
Dave miraculously waits an entire hour before pestering you to bring him and John back. You promptly begin ignoring even more of what your lil’ bro says.
Meanwhile, your other bro seems oddly pensive. Bro fist-bumps you and Dave when you both get back. Though he doesn’t say a word about it, you know that he knows what happened in the fairy forest. Thankfully, he spares you both the excruciatingly awkward sex talk he totally could have given for mega ironies.
It’s not like Bro at all. Usually, he doesn’t hesitate to embarrass the shit out of you both. You would think that both of his younger brothers finally boning their boyfriends in the same trip would be more than enough fuel to light the sick fires of his ironic innuendos.
But Bro doesn’t bring it up. In fact, the way that he looks at you and Jake is almost—sad? You don’t even want to think about what that means.
You’ve noticed that he’s come into work disheveled quite a few times at this point. You aren’t entirely certain why, but he seems to be visiting his lady friend more often than usual. You wonder what made him so masochistic. You really hope he gets over it soon.
But enough about Bro. He hands you your assignments day in and day out and doesn’t say much more to you than usual.
Jake has, much to your dismay, reverted to being completely oblivious to your incubus needs. It’s weird, because he still insists on feeding you breakfast every day, and he begs you to sleep with him every night.
Jake loves to cuddle. He’ll cuddle the shit out of you.
But he never starts anything. You thought it would be nice to let Jake initiate things for a change. To make sure he was comfortable with the pace you’re taking this relationship. But not once has he even made a suggestive glance in your direction.
He’s all about watching the latest shitty films and playing videogames though. At least the bromance is still going strong.
And his love. You can definitely feel it now. It’s a warm and gentle fire that burns within him constantly. It’s there every time he looks at you and touches you. It’s in his carefree laughter, his smile, and hell, you’d even say it’s in the breakfast he makes for you every morning.
A little over a week has passed since your time in the fairy forest. You’ve given Jake his space. Given him time. But you don’t think you can wait too much longer for him to come around.
And so it is that when he walks past you this morning, you grab him and pull him down to your level, where you’ve stopped eating your waffles and oatmeal. Jake doesn’t have time to even utter an exclamation before you pull him forcefully into your embrace, trapping his lips between your own.
He tastes like the cinnamon coffee he made this morning, and like oatmeal cut with pears. It’s a uniquely Jakeish combination. It’s heaven.
A few seconds later, you let him go, smacking your lips at the tasty energy you pulled from him.
“G-goodness Dirk, there are children present!” Jake stammers, a soft flush rising to his cheeks.
“Clearly you’re not talking about Dave and John. Because those two are far less innocent than you think,” you comment, rubbing your index finger under your chin in mock-thought. “You talking about all my smuppets? They’re like my children. Hand sewed every one of them.”
You grin, the thought bringing back a memory. Four days ago, John begged you to help him pull off a prank on Dave. He didn’t need to ask twice. You temporarily cleared out all your cabinets and your entire refrigerator, filling them to the brim with smuppets. At John’s request, you even strategically placed a bucket over the bathroom door filled with smuppets.
Dave fell for it all. He squeaked in surprise when the smuppets in the bathroom showered over his head. He growled at the smuppets in the fridge, and he started totally wigging out as every cabinet he opened doused him with your favorite plush toys.
It was like having your little teenage bro back again.
Of course, he ruined most of your precious smuppets. He always had a fetish for decapitating them. But it wasn’t a huge deal really. Just one night of crappy movies with Jake and you were able to mend them all back to perfection.
Jake sits down beside you, bringing you back to the present moment. He reaches over and rubs a hand fondly over your own. He’s gentle, full of love, and full of concern. The warmth of his energy is like a beacon to your hungry incubus side, and you can’t help pulling some of his energy from him, more than just your usual taste.
He must notice, because he gasps softly. Jake looks down at your hands and then back up at you. His brows furrow slightly and he asks, “Dirk?”
Oh shit. There you go again, filling him with your suggestion. Quickly, you separate your hands and take a slow deep breath to calm yourself down. You don’t answer him. Suddenly, you don’t want to have to bring it up. Even though you had amazing sex last time, and Jake certainly didn’t seem to mind that, you wouldn’t be able to take it if Jake rejected you.
You’re getting foolish again, and you know it. You know Bro would scold you for it, and probably lock you and Jake in his office again and force you to “fix your shit.” But you can’t bring it up. You can’t lose him. You can’t.
“Is something the matter?” Jake asks again, peering closer at you. Before you know it, he’s reaching for your shades.
Instinctively, you flinch away. Jake pauses, but his fingers reach for your shades again, determination in his eyes. This time, you let him slowly pull them away from your face. He gazes at you softly, gently placing a hand on your cheek. You sigh and lean into his touch, trying your best not to take any energy from him or to suggest anything.
“Dirk, I want you to be completely honest with me,” Jake says, looking at you with those passionate I-won’t-take-no-for-an-answer eyes.
You chuckle, softly and somewhat bitterly. “You shouldn’t look at my eyes right now, English,” you tell him quietly. “Don’t know what I might make you do.”
“I’m not afraid,” Jake says, completely seriously. “Tell me.”
“Do you really need me to tell you this every time?” you finally sigh. “Jake, I’m an incubus. You know what I need.”
For a moment, Jake doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t react in any way. You decide to wait and let him come to the realization on his own.
Any second now.
Finally, Jake gasps, figuring it out. “You mean to say—” he pauses, his words trailing away.
“Yes. The same fucking thing as last time,” you agree with his unfinished statement.
“A-already?” Jake stammers. “Are you completely certain?”
You roll your eyes at him, but you humor him with a response. “I’m pretty sure.”
“But I thought—,” he trails off for a moment, frowning. “I thought that eating human food would decrease your need to—you know.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Jake. I told you that,” you sigh softly. You’re both silent for a few moments, staring intently into each other’s eyes. Finally, you draw a breath and ask, “Jake, maybe after tonight’s target we could—?”
“D-Dirk, I—”Jake gulps, and you think you see him visibly begin to panic. He glances away from you, toward the window, faint perspiration at the edges of his hairline. He doesn’t look back at you as he finishes with, “—I don’t know.”
Oh fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck FUCK.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” You ask tentatively, hiding your inner turmoil behind your practiced Strider mask.
“I don’t know, can it—” he pauses again. Jake looks back at you, his brows furrowed but a tiny bit of hope in his eyes. “—can it wait a couple days or so?”
You think of John.
You want to screw John.
“No, it can’t,” you reply, certain that your voice is laden with regret. If Jake doesn’t want to have sex with you, then you’re only left with two options. Find someone else to screw or die. “Jake if you don’t want to—”
“I-I want to!” he stammers quickly, cutting you off. “Dirk, I lov— I care about you more than you know. It’s just—”
You watch him carefully as his voice yet again trails away. Did he almost say what you think he almost said? Not that you didn’t know it already, but damn it would have been nice to hear it from his lips. You don’t say anything, though, because you want to hear what he has to say. Somehow, you get the feeling this is big. Bigger than just not wanting to have sex with you.
“You know what? Nevermind,” he finishes, giving you a small reassuring smile. At least, you think the smile was mean to be reassuring, but you can tell from his strained expression that something is still bothering him. “Tonight after work?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you agree slowly. Then, you add on, “you know, if there’s something you want to tell me, you can say it. I won’t judge you or anything. I’ve had sex with people of all persuasions with a fuck-ton of problems. I really doubt you can surprise me.”
Jake laughs a small and hollow laugh. “I really think I can,” he murmurs so quietly that a normal person might have missed it.
But you aren’t a normal person, and you definitely heard that. The way he said that makes you wonder, could this be what Jane was talking about? Is this the big secret about Jake that even the all mighty Jane Croker couldn’t handle?
You are insanely curious now. What could possibly be such a big deal that Jane would give up the man she loved? And how does that have anything to do with him not wanting to have sex with you? It doesn’t seem like those two things should be related at all.
But you already offered to listen to anything he wanted to say. And he still hasn’t said anything yet. You’re starting to wonder just why he wouldn’t trust you with this secret. True, you have only known him for about half a year, but he should know you by now. He should know that you would never be capable of leaving him, no matter how terrible his secret is. You couldn’t even fathom the thought, because your heart has been so empty for so long. You’ve been alone for several lifetimes, and now the magnetic pull of Jake is so strong that you’re aware of one absolutely undeniable fact.
You are absolutely hopelessly in love with Jake English. You would die before you would leave him.
But telling him all of those things might not bode so well. You aren’t sure how he would react, and you don’t want to risk pushing him away with your affection.
So in the end, you wind up sitting silently, gazing fondly into his eyes, and hoping beyond all hope that he will just tell you what his deal is.
Jake gives you a small smile, pecks your cheek, then stands up and walks away.
* * *
Dirk ==> Fight something already!
Bro is disheveled yet again when you arrive at Haven. As usual, you slip into his office through the back door and find him sitting at his office chair, two very suspicious plastic mega-gulp cups on his desk. He doesn’t even look up before gesturing to them and saying, “Dirk. Dave.”
As much as you hate this gross habit, you’re a little thankful this evening. It will help sate your hunger until Jake can do it later.
Bro actually looks up, quirking an eyebrow at you. He doesn’t say anything, but you notice his lips draw down into a small frown. Why is everyone acting so weird around you?
“So do I get to go back to the fairy forest tonight?” Dave asks.
“Can’t get a big enough dose of holy, can you lil’ man?” Bro asks.
“That’s not why I want to go back,” Dave retorts petulantly.
“Trust me, I know,” Bro responds. “Much as I’d love to give you and John another opportunity to fuck, you’re needed somewhere else tonight.”
John’s face lights up redder than you think you’ve ever seen it, and he quickly hides in Dave’s hair. Dave doesn’t seem affected. He takes the assignment, then turns to you. “We’re at—”
But before he can finish, Bro cuts him off. “You aren’t anywhere,” he says, indicating toward all four of you. “Tonight you and John are on your own. Dirk and Jake have something else they need to do.”
Oh great. Here it comes. Time to get locked in Bro’s office with Jake to sort out your problems.
“You wish,” Bro responds to your thought, handing you another small post-it note with your assignment on it. “Dirk, I’m sending you there because you’re our best. Next to me, naturally. Don’t fuck this up, but also don’t give up. You’ve got this.”
You look at the note warily after that ominous pep-talk. It’s just an address. “Ok? What’s the deal?”
“The deal is there’s a little girl having nightmares of a very real monster every night,” Bro elaborates, sinking back into his office chair. “But it isn’t just any monster. It’s the worst kind.”
Both you and Dave are somehow silent. Bro has this way of having you both wrapped around his little finger with just the smallest of words. That’s probably because you know Bro. The smallest of inflections, the tiniest expression, and just a hint of feeling is actually a gigantic reaction for your older brother. Certainly, the words “worst kind” are to be feared.
“You’re right,” he again responds to your thought eerily. “Dirk, have you heard of the Midnight Crew?”
“No,” you answer honestly.
“The Midnight Crew?” John asks, tilting his head up thoughtfully. “Aren’t they those guys that dress all in black? I think dad mentioned them once.”
“He probably did,” Bro agrees. “They’re the most notorious agents of Derse, so I wouldn’t be surprise if word of them reached the fairy land.”
“Aww man, Dirk gets all the fun assignments,” Dave grumbles.
“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew what they can do. Now finish your blood, both of you,” Bro commands. “That harpy blood wasn’t easy to come by. And Dave, evening church-goers are people too. They deserve our protection as much as the next person. You know demons target them even more sometimes. You’ll need John’s help again.”
“Aww fuck no,” Dave whines.
“Oh fuck yes,” Bro mocks him, ushering him out the door. “You’d better go. Mass will be over soon.”
Dave whines, takes a sip from his cup, makes a disgusted face, whines some more, and slams the door behind him.
Then Bro turns to you. You can’t see his eyes behind his shades, but you’ve spent enough time with your older brother to recognize his expression softening. When he looks at you, it’s with concern.
“Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” you murmur, your accent bleeding a bit into your words. Bro doesn’t ever look at you like this. It’s weird.
“Tonight’s not gonna be easy,” he responds smoothly. He removes his hat, rakes his fingers through his hair, and replaces his cap back in place before continuing. “But you’ll do the right thing. I know you will.”
“Freakin’ me out here a little, Bro,” you drawl back slowly. “Did you learn to see the future too or something?”
Bro gives one light chuckle and says, “maybe a little. But the agents of the Midnight Crew are hard to forget. I’ve run across them before and it was less than pleasant. Be on your guard tonight. Even more than usual. All night.”
You expect Bro to elaborate more after that cryptic statement, but you’re wrong. Instead, he quickly ushers you out the door too.
Very shortly, you find yourself driving in your Jeep, the light of the full moon pouring through your roofless and doorless vehicle, illuminating the cup of gross harpy blood that you’re disturbed to say you finished rather quickly. The heavy beats of one of your old mixes roll through the stereo, and you tap your index finger in time to the rhythm on the steering wheel. You can’t place why, but something seemed really odd about Bro tonight. You know he’s a weird motherfucker, but he seemed even stranger than usual.
You’d ask Jake about it but, of course, he is about as helpful as usual. He’s even less talkative than is typical for him, though you know he gets strangely pensive sometimes. You’ve joked with him a few times, calling him “moody,” but he’s never quite understood the humor. Moody is definitely a word you would use to describe him right now, though. He sits silently, staring out the side of your doorless vehicle as the trees rush by. Every now and then he sighs lightly, dare you say wistfully? He goes without blinking for uncomfortably long periods of time and then suddenly, as if to make up for it, he blinks quickly, tipping you of that he’s deep in thought. You would give almost anything to know what is on his mind right now.
The moonlight illuminates Jake in what you would say is a beautiful way, but let’s be honest. Jake could be covered in donkey piss and you would find him attractive.
Especially now, when your incubus needs are so strong. The blood Bro gave you helped quell your hunger a bit, but you still feel that instinctive want pulling at you from inside. It’s like a chasm desperate to be filled (heh, no pun intended.) Thanks to the blood, you aren’t ravenously making out with Jake right now. You can keep your shit together until later. But you really can’t wait until all this Midnight Crew business is over and you can retire back home with Jake.
Eventually, you pull up to a very nondescript house. Situated in the rural countryside, there is absolutely no indication that there would be a problem here at all. The house is far from any of its neighbors, surrounded by waves of rolling tall grass. The wind rustles through the grass, and the bright reflection of the moon creates silvery waves that bend in an almost hypnotic pattern.
And then you hear the scream. It’s so high pitched, so full of fright, that it’s almost silent. Without your demonic senses, you might not have heard it. You’re not surprised that this girl’s parents have never woken up or noticed her screaming.
You turn to Jake. He’s already focused on the house, his green eyes set with determination and a grimness in his features. That’s right, Jake has faced the Agents before too. From Jake’s expression, you can tell that Bro was not exaggerating when he said to watch yourself tonight.
“Can you sense it?” Jake asks quietly as you both jump out of your Jeep. “It’s the sound of a terror coming through to this world. Born of nightmares, the Agents have been using children for millennia to cross between worlds.”
You raise an eyebrow at Jake. That was oddly perceptive of him.
Jake notices your gaze and gives you a grim smile, pulling out his prized pistols. “Let’s get this party started, shall we?”
You unsheathe your katana and sneak silently with Jake towards the house. No lights are on. You have no clue where the Agent could be hiding, only that he’s definitely here. You can sense two adults in this house, and a small child. And somewhere else, somewhere nearby, there’s a foul darkness that rivals even your own. The deep depths of its emptiness pull at your soul and–
“Well if it ain’t Mr. English. What a pleasure.”
The voice catches you off-guard. It’s a voice that’s filled with a peculiar accent that you thought was long dead. The accent is very inner-city gangster, and it brings to mind images of guys running around in pinstripe suits and fedoras, sucking down fat cigars while blasting everything away with semi-automatic guns.
You both turn around quickly. You’re shocked that someone was able to sneak up on you, but that surprise only lasts a moment. From countless strifes with Bro, you’ve learned to stay on your toes and roll with the punches.
“Spades Slick,” Jake says lowly, his voice sounding almost like a growl. “If I never laid eyes on you again, it would certainly be a pleasure.”
The Agent, presumably Spades, cracks a grin, and it’s like the deadly slice of a knife across the pitch dark background of the night. The Agent is dressed completely in black. Everything from his fedora and suit down to his gloves and shiny polished black shoes. His eyes are glowing white slits and his entire being is covered in a hazy aura of darkness.
In your time, you’ve run across demons of all persuasions, with ranges of darkness in their hearts that traverse the gambit of melancholic whimsy to truly malevolent evil.
Spades is evil. And you mean that in the truest most unironic sense of the word. When you feel his soul, nothing but blackness splinters out, in sharp dangerous spikes. You know just from looking at him that this is going to be a rough battle.
“Still fightin’ da good fight? Where’s da rest of youse crew, Mr. English? Did ya finally kill dem all? What’d ya call youseselves again, da f—” Spades begins to say, but is cut off by the sound of Jake’s pistol. As usual, Jake doesn’t miss, but his target has already puffed into a cloud of black smoke by the time the bullet reaches him.
Like a phantom, Spades is already standing behind you. He grasps you from behind, his forearm barring across your neck, choking you. At least, if you had to breathe he would be choking you. Quickly, you reverse your blade and jam it behind you.
But again, Spades has already moved. This time, he’s sitting up on the first limb of a nearby tree, just out of your reach. He shakes his head. “Yout’ dese days. No manners. Mr. English, ya haven’t even introduced youse friend—oh… ohhohoho!!! Wait don’t tell me! Is dis guy youse lover? Mr. English, I never thought I’d see da day!”
“Leave Dirk out of this!” Jake growls, firing through the air where Spades was sitting. But as usual he has already disappeared and reappeared elsewhere. This time he’s leaning against the hood of your Jeep.
“Dirk, eh? As in Dirk Strider?” Spades asks, looking at you with an eerie calmness that should be illegal. “Dose two dames, Damara and Vriska, dey made quite a fuss over you not dat long ago. Said ya broke dere hearts.”
“I remember it differently,” you say, flash-stepping forward and slicing through the air where Spades was standing. By this point you know you probably won’t be able to catch him, but you really want him off your Jeep.
Spades materializes next to Jake, leaning against him, with an arm swung over his shoulder. “Well, I tell ya kid, it’s like dis. By da way, ya mind if I call ya kid? Cause ya ain’t givin’ me what I want, so I’m gonna call ya exactly what ya are. A kid. Ya don’t mind dat, yeah? So anyways, kid, we can do da runaround all day. Ya know da drill. But it all comes down ta dis.”
Why is he touching Jake like that? The anger within you is instantly incensed, and you know that your fuse is already short from your hunger.
You are going to kill Spades. You are going to murder him.
Thankfully, Jake has the same idea. He fires his pistol again through where Spades’ abdomen should have been. But naturally Spades has moved. “Keep your grubby hands off me!” Jake growls, a venom in his voice that you are actually a little touched but shocked to see.
It makes you feel a little torn. You’re thrilled that Jake feels the same way you do, and you think that means that he feels this strongly about you. No, take that back. You don’t think, you know. You can sense it on him.
But you can also sense the barely mitigated fury that is seething beneath the only slightly calm exterior of you boyfriend. Jake is magnificent and you love him. But in this moment, Jake is also a bit frightening.
….wait, frightening? When have you ever thought that about Jake? Jake is your bumbling dork of a boyfriend. The one who loves terrible movies, is always up for videogame bro-dates, and insists on making you breakfast every morning. Not once have you found him the least bit scary. It’s a word that simply isn’t synonymous with Jake. But in this moment, something is different.
You gaze at him closer and realize that it’s true. There’s something about Jake that is petrifying. He’s still your boyfriend. Your terrifying beautiful boyfriend. And you would still do anything for him. Still die for him. But right now, you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something larger going on. A scene in a play that you’re simply blind to seeing.
Spades avoids a couple more shots from Jake before it finally seems like he’s getting bored. He materializes again by Jake’s side, plucking a spare gun out of Jake’s belt. “Kid ya got guts ta go against da natural order of things. I give you dat. But dis ain’t helpin’ no one. So I tells ya what. Ya gimme what I wants, and I won’t kill youse boyfriend.”
The bullet’s in your chest before you even fully register what happened. A millisecond later, you hear the sound of the gun being fired.
From Jake’s gun.
A bullet from Jake’s gun is in the left side of your chest, and holy hell you have never been happier that your heart serves no purpose. You feel it pass through your useless organ and wince as it crunches through the cartilage and muscle between your ribs, nicking the bones on the way out of your body.
The blood stain slowly spreads across your shirt. Damn, if you’d have known this was going to happen you would have worn a shirt you didn’t give a shit about instead of one of your favorite white shirts featuring an orange cap. Alas, it’s a bit difficult to get blood out of a white shirt, and bullet wounds? Impossible.
You feel your body healing itself, but it’s a bit on the slow side. Thanks to Jake’s obliviousness, you’re not as sated as usual. Your body protests vehemently as it struggles to put you back together. Healing is draining the reserves of blood that Bro gave you this evening, and it’s even taking up some of the energy you were counting on to help you make it through the night until Jake.
Yes. Jake is definitely a time, you have decided. And trapped in this tunnel vision, you feel yourself clawing inwardly toward that magic time when it can just be you and Jake. No Agents. No little brothers or older brothers—
Finally, you hear Jake’s enraged cry. He lashes out at Spades with a bowie knife that you didn’t know he was carrying, but come on now, it’s Jake. Really, you should have expected that.
Spades catches Jake’s arm and whistles long and low. He eyes the blade in Jake’s hand like he’s eyeing a prized diamond ring. “Wowza, youse got youseself one helluva blade dere, kid. Where’d it come from? Dey don’t make ‘em like dat anymore! Den again,” Spades draws his lips into a sinister smile, reaching for his belt.
He pulls out what might be the most wicked looking blade you have ever seen. It’s small enough to be considered a knife, but you have never seen anything like it. You’re not sure what it’s carved out of, but the blade itself is pure white. It gleams in the moonlight in a way that heralds an impossible sharpness. The handle is, naturally, the darkest of pitch, absorbing all light and giving nothing back.
“—dey don’t make ‘em like dis anymore either,” Spades finishes his sentence, brandishing his knife with unbridled glee. “I’ll ask ya again. Ya gonna play da game my way? Ya gonna let da big guy free?”
Jake’s growl turns into a roar, and he fires his pistol again at Spades. “Get out of my dimension, you blasted fiend!”
Spades reappears a few feet away from Jake, tisking and shaking his head, “wrong move, kid. Wrong move.”
Spades glances only briefly in your direction, and you know he’s about to come after you. You anticipate his move, and meet his blade with your katana when he reappears behind you. Your body, trained from countless strifes with Bro, is already in motion, kicking Spades’ feet out from beneath him.
Before he hits the ground, you stab through his abdomen, pinning him to the ground.
Spades sputters, coughing up bright vermillion blood. “h-how?”
“You never had an older brother, did you?” you ask calmly. You turn briefly toward Jake, checking to make sure he’s ok.
But you’re caught offguard by Jake, whose eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen them. “DIRK!!!!” he screams.
And then you feel it. The sharp stab of a blade cutting through your calf down to your foot. A second later, you hear a sickening squishing tearing sound, and then your back is on fire.
You’re on the ground before you realize what’s happened. He’s slashed through the nerves in your spinal chord, and oh fuck, you can’t move your legs.
You’re shaking from the blood loss as you pry up your head and look up. Spades is standing there, his knife dripping with your blood, and you know he’s made a zigzag jigsaw puzzle out of your back. His entire left side is bleeding from where he tore your katana through his own body to escape.
“Dirk Strider,” Spades says, his voice searing with hate. “I will end da pitiful excuse dat is your life!”
You really want to tell him that isn’t true, but you have to admit, you’re feeling a little lightheaded. You were too weak coming into this fight. Far too weak. And you’ve lost so much blood—
You feel a swish of air and Jake is somehow at your side, his green jacket billowing above you, his guns ready. There’s a fury in his voice when talks that makes you instantly glad it’s not aimed at you. “Spades Slick, you have gone too far! I politely asked you to leave Dirk out of this!”
And just what the hell is “this” anyway? What is Jake talking about? Apparently he knows Spades from somewhere. Maybe it’s a rivalry of sorts from the past?
Spades is clutching his side with his left hand, brandishing his knife with the other. He seems no less deterred than before, and it has you worried. Not for your own sake, because you could care less what happens to you, but for Jake. What if Jake dies because you weren’t a good enough partner to have his back?
A few tense moments go by. Then, suddenly, there is a blur of movement. Jake is firing his pistols, and you hear the sound of Spades’ blade making contact.
When it’s all said and done, Jake is battered and defeated, but he doesn’t seem to have any terrible wounds. He’s still standing, if barely.
Oh shit. He’s going to die isn’t he? Spades is actually going to kill him.
Your heart wrenches.
No! It can’t end here! It can’t! There has to be something you can do! Think Dirk!
But try as you might, there isn’t time. And even if time was no object, there isn’t anything you can do. Your legs won’t move, and you’re too hurt to even heal yourself. Blood is still slowly pouring from your back, slowly bleeding the life out of you.
Suddenly, you’re hit with pain so intense it feels like you’ve been placed in the center of the sun. It’s burning hot and it’s painfully holy.
Wait. Holy? What—
You hear a scream. It’s not your own, and it’s not Jake’s.
It’s Spades Slick, screaming bloody murder. You hear the sickening sounds of bones snapping and breaking. And then he’s tossed in front of you, in a dark and bloody pile.
His eyes narrow, looking into your shades. “I’m comin’ back for youse—Dirk Strider.”
With that, Spades Slick bursts into a flurry of dust and disappears.
But how did that happen? Jake is in terrible shape, so who—
Suddenly you’re being accosted with searing holy magic again. You feel your wounds being forced closed, and it’s nauseating. The world spins as you’re gently pulled up into a sitting position. “Nnng….” You attempt to murmur in protest.
“Don’t be such a baby, Di-Stri. C’mon, it’ll only hurt a sec.”
Suddenly lips are on your own. They’re soft, gentle, and extremely familiar.
Your lips are moving on their own, and you’re powerless to stop it. You’re hurt too badly, and you need this.
You know you’re pulling energy faster than you should, but you can’t help it. The incubus inside you is ravenous, and with the damage Spades did to you, it’s only worse.
You struggle to open your eyes, and when you finally do, you’re happy beyond belief. Blonde hair, spunky smirk, and that characteristic twist in her hair.
Roxy. It’s your Roxy. You’re not sure how it’s possible, but she’s alive, and she’s here, and she’s absolutely not dead!
—and you can’t stop feeding off her. Fuck, you’re taking her energy too fast! You’ll kill her again at this rate. You inhale sharply, trying to pull yourself out of it, but the demon inside you draws you back, hungrily devouring more of her precious life’s energy.
Oh fuck, that’s Jake.
You desperately try to push yourself away. Using your hands, this time you manage to wrench yourself away from her.
You pushed so hard that you threw yourself back on your ass, falling into the grass. You shift a bit, pleased to note that your legs are listening to you again. Your body is completely healed, even though the incubus inside you is still protesting vehemently. You feel a strong impulsive urge to grab Jake and fuck him hard, right now. You want to hear him screaming in pleasure, feel him clinging to you as he comes, and—
Ugh. Stop. Stop stop stop right there. You take a breath to calm yourself and try to put that shit away.
You hear Roxy’s giggle. “That scared of me, Di-Stri?” she asks, crawling over to you and lying beside you.
“Roxy, how are you alive?” you ask, still lying on the ground, completely bewildered. “And did you kill Spades Slick?”
“Yup!” she agrees.
You frown, glancing at her sharply. “You only answered one of my questions.”
“Yup!” she perkily agrees again.
“Dirk?” Jake asks, walking over and lying beside you in the soft grass too. Somehow, like you, he appears to be miraculously better. You have a feeling Roxy has something to do with it. “What is going on? Who is your friend?”
“Her name is Roxy. We were demon-hunting partners before she—died. Am I dreaming?” you ask abruptly, completely baffled by the turn of events. Not five minutes ago, you and Jake were getting gassed at the hands of one Spades Slick. Now you, Jake, and Roxy are all lying in the grass under the moonlight, like lovers gazing at the stars. “Or am I dead?”
“Well, technically, you already are dead,” Roxy points out, then makes a sweeping motion with her outstretched hand. “But no, you haven’t been sent into the great beyond if that’s what you mean. How lame would that be? So lame! That’s why I had to come here and save you!”
“So you did save us,” you murmur. A few moments pass by in comfortable silence. Your inner demon is finally starting to calm down, and you don’t feel like jumping Jake’s bones with Roxy right next to you anymore. Finally, you can relax a bit.
It’s completely surreal. Usually you’re surrounded by the lights and sounds of the city, the daily grind of fighting the demons of Derse and sending them back to their graves. You never take time to come to the countryside, much less lay under the stars.
“How are you alive, Rox?” you ask quietly. “I saw you die. How could you have possibly survived?”
“I didn’t,” she answers softly. “But my death was deemed both heroic and just by the powers that be so—here I am!”
“That makes no sense,” you frown, recalling that Jane did mention something about that. She was supposed to look it up and get back to you, but you haven’t heard from her. Whatever could it mean?
“Heroic and just—” Jake murmurs. Then, suddenly he sits up, his eyes wide with amazement. “Are you an angel?!” he asks, excitement glowing in his green eyes as he stares at Roxy.
“Wohooooah! Dirkie! You bagged a clever one!” Roxy winks at him and says, “yes, dear, I am. Are you the infamous Jake English?”
“The one and only!” Jake proclaims proudly. “It is so fabulous to actually speak to an angel!”
Roxy laughs. “Yeah, I guess. It’s not really all it’s cracked up to be though. They like, never let you have time off, and you’re supposed to be all pious and holy and shit. Whatevs I say. It’s too much work! Which reminds me—” Roxy turns to face you, propping herself up on her elbow. “—I don’t have a lot of time here, Dirk.”
You swallow hard. You don’t want to face her. You don’t know if you can.
“Di-Stri, do your ears need cleaned? Can you hear me?” she asks playfully, knowing full well that you heard her.
“Don’t go, Roxy. I can’t lose you again,” you murmur softly. Roxy was your best friend, before Jake came around. She knows everything about you. You would trust her with anything. A part of you died with her, and you know that losing her again will only destroy you more.
Roxy sighs, “You aren’t losing me. You never really did. I’ve always been around. But, I’m sure you noticed the holy aura when I was fighting Spades, right?”
“Yeah,” you respond slowly, not liking where this is going at all.
“The holy aura never really goes away,” she admits quietly. “I can only suppress it for a little while, like now, to make it more comfortable for you. But if you think about it, you can probably totes feel it.”
She’s right. Now that you’re looking for it, the holy aura is buzzing about the air, like a cloud of mosquitos pestering and stinging you. It’s not bad enough to be painful, just annoying.
“Dirk, my assignments now are to kill those like you. Any demons. All demons,” Roxy explains, her voice almost inaudible. “I think— if the higher ups knew I was even talking to you, I’d be in a buttload of trouble. Sorry, you know it’s nothing personal.”
“Kill all demons?” you echo in disbelief.
“Yeah, it’s actually been going on forever,” Roxy comments. “You just never noticed because Bro has some sweet deal worked out for those of you at Haven. That’s a cute name, B.T.Dubs. Tell him I said that.”
“I will,” you murmur offhandedly. Then, a thought comes to mind. A thought so disturbing that you have to voice it. “Roxy, you aren’t killing the good demons too, are you? The innocent ones that we worked to protect?”
“No! Fuck no!” she exclaims quickly. Then, her expression falls again. “But some of the other angels are. I mean, I’ve convinced a few to stop, but it’s like, fighting a never ending war and some of them won’t ever change their minds. It totes blows!”
“There must be some reason,” you mutter.
“Yeah, I guess there was an incident a long time ago? That’s when this whole ‘kill all the demons’ crusade started. There’s just one guy they’re after. Or maybe it’s a chick, I’m not sure. Nobody really knows. But whoever she is, she’s gotta be one hella powerful demon!” Roxy exclaims.
“So you’ve decided it’s a she?” you murmur back playfully.
“Course! Haven’t you heard?” Roxy laughs then starts singing slightly off key, “the female of the species is more deadly than the male!~ Makes sense, cause God is a Girl!~”
You find yourself smiling. Roxy could always get you to smile. A manly Strider smile, of course.
Jake finally pipes up. “This person they’re looking for. Will they stop killing all the demons if they finally kill her?”
You feel Roxy shift beside you, as if she’s shrugging. “Who can say? Some of them are so set in their ways that nothing is gonna change them. But I think it might make ‘em lay off a bit.”
“I see,” Jake murmurs, then returns to staring up at the stars thoughtfully.
You don’t know how long you three lay in the peaceful silence. In the comfortable presence of your best friend and your boyfriend, you close your eyes and feel the world around you. You can sense the people in the house, sleeping peacefully. The young girl’s nightmares have finally ended.
And of course, you can feel Roxy and Jake beside you. Jake is oddly—tense? You aren’t really sure why, but you’ll get it out of him later. Roxy’s mind is a pleasant calm. You’ve missed her. You’ve missed her terribly.
All too soon, you hear Roxy sigh beside you. “It’s time for me to go, Dirk,” she says quietly.
“I know,” you murmur back. “You’ll come visit, yeah? Jake can’t match me in Halo like you can.”
“Give me a real gun and I’ll match you any day!” Jake protests.
Roxy laughs. “Sure, I’ll make time for you, Dirkey!”
“And—you’ll see Jane too, won’t you?” you ask tentatively. “She misses you, you know.”
For a while, Roxy doesn’t say anything. Then she murmurs, “yeah, I know. I miss her too.” Roxy doesn’t say any more about it. Instead, she leans in to you, giving you a small peck on the cheek.
“Bye Roxy,” you hear yourself whisper.
“Goodbye. Love you, Dirk.”
You feel your heart wrench, and the tingle of holy energy intensifies beside you. For a beautiful shining moment, the night sky is lit with a bright pure white glow. Then it’s gone. The holy energy is gone. You don’t need to look to know the truth.
Roxy is gone.
In her place, there’s an emptiness in your soul. The pain of her death has cut into you again, and it threatens to overtake you. But you remind yourself of one important fact.
She’s alive. Your Roxy is alive.
Somehow that makes things a little better. You know that you may never see her again, but even if you don’t, you know that she’s around. The thought comforts you and creeps you out a little at the same time.
You roll over, snuggling into Jake, who is happy to snuggle back. He turns to you, touching your foreheads together lightly. Beneath the light of the full moon, you can see the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, the brilliant green hue of his eyes, and his soft sad smile. “She was really important to you, wasn’t she?” he asks.
“Yeah. She was my partner for decades,” you agree. “You know that night we first met? The night I was such an asshole to you?”
Jake chuckles, “you were quite the wanker!”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” you murmur, grinning at your own stupid ways. “She just died the day before.”
“I know,” he says back softly.
“Yeah, Bro told me,” Jake responds quietly. “We spoke a bit before you arrived that evening. He’s—he’s quite the fellow.”
“Heh,” you laugh once, softly. “That’s putting it mildly.”
For a little while longer, you take in the comforting warmth of Jake’s body, bathing in the moonlight. You may be starving, but you don’t want this moment to end. Your body wants to have sex with him, but your heart is content to just lay here and bask in the pleasant feeling that is your boyfriend.
But it doesn’t last.
As you continue to taste Jake’s energy, feeling him, sensing him, you can sense a growing unrest within him. Staying out here is making him antsy. It’s putting him back on edge, and he isn’t telling you why. Though you’re not sure why, you don’t want to cause him any more discomfort. So finally, you murmur, “hey, Jake? Let’s head home.”
You sense his relief immediately. He quietly nods. When you lean in to kiss him gently but chastely, he kisses you back sweetly in a quiet gesture of thanks.
You drive away and don’t look back.
* * *
Dirk ==> Get your JAKE on!
You’ve got to get home first, all right? Geez. Calm down.
As you drive home, Bro’s words drift back to you.
Be on your guard tonight. Even more than usual. All night.
Could he have known what was coming? Have his abilities really grown strong enough to see into the future? You don’t see how it’s possible, but every time you think you know everything about your older brother, he manages to surprise you.
Of course, his female consort may have played a role in his behavior. His mysterious mistress is terrifying in more ways than one, so you wouldn’t be surprised if she had something to do with it. Whatever “it” is.
Jake is as silent as he was before, when you were driving here. You know that something is going through his brain, but again, he isn’t telling you what it is. It’s frustrating, because you wish that you could be someone he trusts as much as you trust Roxy. You want Jake to be able to tell you anything and everything.
You love him. You’ve got his back, no matter what happens. You can’t wait until the day when he fully realizes and believes that.
It takes a great deal of concentration and willpower for you to make it back home without stopping alongside the road for a quick snack/mack on Jake. Roxy gave you some of her energy, but you stopped yourself before you could even begin to truly feed.
You are still starving. Small tremors wrack through body, and your hands are shaking from the raw hunger and need.
You want Jake. You need him.
By the time you’re back in your apartment, it’s almost unbearable. “Jake,” you murmur, and your voice sounds strained and forced. “Are you ready to—?”
Again, Jake hesitates. For half a second, you panic, thinking you’ll have to run out quickly and find a stranger to bed or die. But you’re filled with relief when he nods and says, “yes, let’s move to the bedroom, shall we? Dare I say it will be awkward for Dave if we leave your pants here?”
Oh. You hadn’t realized you were already unbuttoning your pants. But you were. Quickly, you both make your way to the bedroom, and Jake shuts and locks the door behind you. The only light in the room is from the moonlight, streaming in through his open window. A gentle breeze ruffles his hair as he begins to tediously undress himself.
You had already managed to shed all your clothing before he even closed the door. Hastily, you begin helping Jake with his clothes, unbuttoning and unzipping his shorts and pulling them down to the floor.
Jake chuckles, “impatient are we?”
“You could say that,” you murmur. He still has his socks and shoes on, and his shorts and boxers are still hanging loosely around his legs, but you don’t care. You can’t wait any longer. Grabbing him roughly by the hips, you push him into the bed. Your swallow his dick ravenously while Jake still struggles to remove his shirt.
“D-Dirk! Aahh!” He gasps, clearly not expecting you to jump him so quickly. But you can feel the gentle lick of pleasure rolling off him, and you take that as a sign to continue. It doesn’t take him long to harden in your mouth, and you eagerly take him down your throat. Every little moan is blissful, and the burning warmth of his essence is rapture.
Jake actually surprises you when he pushes you off of him. For a second, you’re worried that you might have hurt him somehow. You don’t think you were pulling his energy too quickly?
But then you see his heavy laden eyes, full of raw want, and you know that he’s stopped you for an entirely different reason.
“Strider, you’re beautiful. Perfect. I want to fuck you,” he says, not hesitating a moment between those lust laden statements.
You grin back at him. You’re not about to stop him. “Ok. Remember how this works, English?”
“I have an idea,” he says, grinning at you in a way that you’d swear looks downright predatory. “Perhaps we can try something new?”
You rarely think this, but you’re actually a little worried about what’s going through Jake’s head. Didn’t he say you were his first boyfriend? Just what is this new idea?
You guess he’s probably watched porn online or possibly even in person before. Who’s to say what he’s done.
timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 9:35
TT: Dirk. Hey. Listen to me. I know I’m just a program, but I’m getting a bad feeling about this. I think you should—
The way Jake grabs you by the hips, pulling you toward him, is nothing short of jarring. You catch the gasp in your throat, not about to give away your surprise. As he yanks you suddenly on top of him, your shades go flying off your face. Whatever AR was about to tell you will have to wait.
Jake’s hard beneath you, and you can feel him more than suggestively grinding up into your ass. Again, you fight to keep a moan from leaving your throat. Eagerly, you push back into him, hungrily absorbing every lick of pleasured energy that comes from him.
You’re so focused on not hurting him that you don’t really pay attention to the energy coming off him. It’s super-charged with sex and want, and that’s all you care about. It wraps around you like a warm blanket, and you pull at it, letting it slowly fill the gap left from days of not feeding.
Jake’s curling an arm around you, and in your haze your almost don’t register when he shifts your position, drawing you both fully onto the bed. You don’t mind, because it gives you more room to work. You’re lost in Jake and he’s pulling you again quite forcefully down to him, capturing your lips. He’s licking and biting now and holy fuck is it hot. You loved the way Jake kissed you earlier, but now—
Suddenly, a less than pleasant pain arcs up through your back. Your ass is on fire. You think it’s literally on fire.
But quickly, you come to your senses and realize that no, your ass is not on fire, but one Jake English has just forced himself up into you. You gape at him in surprise, feeling his dick slide slowly into you. You’re not even sure how he forced himself up there, but you can tell that you’re bleeding. You swallow and force yourself to calm down as he slides up further inside you.
You’re an incubus. You can handle this. Your ass is quite accommodating, even if you haven’t been prepared. Besides, this isn’t the first time you’ve used your own blood as lube. Some of your other demonic lovers were quite fond of that. You’re not exactly against it, but you just didn’t expect it out of Jake. He always struck you as the type that would always be blushing, stammering, tripping over his own words and his own dick during sex. You pegged him for the adorable and bashful type.
Jake’s bitten firmly into your lower lip, and he’s got his arm firmly locked around your neck, keeping you in place as he pulls himself in and out of you. You push back into him, ignoring the pain. You’ll bear with it for Jake, and his energy which—
—which suddenly doesn’t taste like Jake anymore. Your brows furrow as you realize what you’d overlooked earlier.
Damara. Kurloz. Meulin. What the fuck, Meulin now too?
Their influence is back, thickly lacing Jake’s energy and sticking to him like a disgusting syrup. But unlike last time, it doesn’t disappear after a moment. The foul darkness of their influence lingers as he fucks you, and as much as you want to do something about it, you’re still starving and you can’t. You’ve got to let him keep going. Your body won’t let you stop.
Jake is giving off a hyper-charged amount of energy. You’ve only had sex with him twice before, but neither of those times were quite like this. Even though it’s tainted, the pleasured vitality you pull from him is healing and filling you faster than you think any of your lovers have been able to in the past. Even the ones you’ve almost accidentally killed from feeding too quickly.
Jake, however, seems to have no problems. You undulate your hips, bringing your ass down to meet him sharply as he continues to thrust forcefully up into you. You ride it out for a few more minutes, and it actually does become more pleasurable when your body heals itself. Thank whatever created you for that. It’s saved you a good deal of pain with your less than gentle lovers.
You growl into Jake’s kiss, partially from the feral pleasure of having sex with him, but mostly from your own frustration at yourself for not being able to stop and see what the fuck is wrong with him. You’re still a long way from being full, but you’re sated enough to finally have some control over yourself. You’re finally able to tear your lips away from his.
And you gasp. You actually fucking gasp.
Jake’s eyes are the wrong color.
You still on top of him, forcing him to stop moving. When he leans up in protest, you push him back down on the bed. You don’t know what his red eyes mean, but if it’s anything like you or your bros, you know it’s a bad sign. “Jake. Snap out of it. Whatever’s fucking happening, snap the fuck out of it!”
Jake doesn’t say anything, but he glares at you, breathing heavily as he focuses on your eyes. Behind the brilliant red irises there’s a burning hunger and a pure black hatred.
For the second time today, Jake frightens you.
You have no doubts now. Something is most definitely wrong with him. “Jake—” your voice is more of a plead now. You don’t want to have to dip into his consciousness again. You told him you wouldn’t.
But something about him is very very wrong. You wonder if this is what AR was trying to warn you about earlier, before he was rudely flung from your face.
It isn’t like you to sit at a loss for several minutes, but that’s exactly what you do. While Jake squirms and fights against you, you pin him down, debating what to do. Not even a week ago, you promised him that you wouldn’t manipulate him again. You’re not sure what happened to him or why he’s like this. You really hope it isn’t anything you did.
Could this happen any time you have sex?
No, you’re not going down that line of thought. Not now. You’ll deal with that when it comes time. For now, you’ve got bigger matters to attend to.
Jake isn’t any better. He’s still fighting you, his eyes are still red, and he’s still trying to hump you like a crazy motherfucker. You know what you have to do.
You sigh heavily. Slowly, regretfully, you drag your gaze to his, locking eyes with him.
Mine. Jake, you’re mine.
Like flipping a switch, his eyes quickly revert back to their beautiful green color. Instantly, he slumps back into the bed, the fight in him completely gone.
Worst boyfriend. That’s you.
Slowly, you shift off him, freeing his dick from yourself. He hasn’t even come yet, and neither have you. With Jake under your influence, you could do whatever you wanted to him, and he would be powerless to stop it. Just the opposite, in fact.
You could make him love anything you did to him.
Make him want it.
Make him beg you for it.
You’ve done it to lovers in the past, but you could never do it to Jake. You can’t even fathom treating the one you love that way. You aren’t starving anymore. You’ll last another couple days now, and once Jake is himself again, you’ll gladly make up for this with all the sex he could ever want.
If he’s ever himself again.
You cringe at the thought, noting that your boyfriend’s eyes are hazy with your influence, half lidded. Gently you caress his cheek, trailing your fingers across his forehead and through his hair. Naturally, all the other influences have left him now. No more Damara, Kurloz, or Meulin.
Jake’s under your influence now. And you’re scared about what will happen if you give him back to himself right now.
So instead, you settle into the crook between Jake and the wall, pulling the covers over you both. Gently, you kiss his cheek and murmur, “sleep.”
He’s out as soon as you finish the word, lulled by your undeniable suggestion. His eyelids flutter shut, his breathing evening out into long, deep breaths. You vaguely remember that your shades and AR went flying across the room somewhere, but you’ll get them in the morning.
For now, you pull Jake close to you and fall into an uneasy sleep.
* * *
Fun fact: I have this work on AO3 too, complete with color during pesterlogs. If you want to see that, it’s here.