Fic: Futile Gesture
Sep. 23rd, 2023 03:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anysinFor anon requester on Tumblr, here is a Homestuck fic with Bro/Dave, warning for dubcon incest creepery. Set a little before the canon starts.
Futile Gesture
Your heart is up in your throat as you prepare to enter your brother's room.
Bro appears to be asleep, which is extremely suspicious and should have you backing out of the door right now, hoping against odds that you will get back to your own room without a confrontation. But you stand there, surveying the scene.
He's on the bed, his body naked, covers tossed on the floor. In his slack hand, he's holding a pair of underwear you recognize as yours. They appear to be stained with something white, and you don't know if the origin of the stain is you or Bro.
You really should be leaving the room. Fucking hell, why are you still here?
You step inside and close the door behind you.
Feeling nauseous, you walk over to Bro's bed, picking the covers up from the floor. His body is at ease, but your brother is smarter and more cunning than you; he is still wearing his shades and he could be easily watching you behind them, waiting for his chance to strike. You know this, and you know you are dooming yourself more with every step you take. Your mouth is dry, your hands feel shaky. You are having a whole bunch of regrets.
But you get even closer, ignoring his stretched out hand as you place the covers over his body.
Why the fuck aren't you running for the door?
You pull the covers all the way up to his neck, make sure his feet are covered too. You ignore the bulge that has formed underneath the fabric.
If something happens, it's going to be your fault.
You glance at his outstretched hand, at your bunched up underwear, deciding to leave it be. You look at your brother's face, at his impenetrable black shades, and wonder if his eyes are open behind them.
You will deserve everything that happens.
You are utterly unsurprised when Bro's fingers uncurl, letting your underwear drop down to the floor before he reaches out for your face, lifting his head up from the pillow.
"Let's see those eyes!"
He tugs your shades off your face, to better see the fear in you.
It's time for strife, and you already know you are going to lose.
Futile Gesture
Your heart is up in your throat as you prepare to enter your brother's room.
Bro appears to be asleep, which is extremely suspicious and should have you backing out of the door right now, hoping against odds that you will get back to your own room without a confrontation. But you stand there, surveying the scene.
He's on the bed, his body naked, covers tossed on the floor. In his slack hand, he's holding a pair of underwear you recognize as yours. They appear to be stained with something white, and you don't know if the origin of the stain is you or Bro.
You really should be leaving the room. Fucking hell, why are you still here?
You step inside and close the door behind you.
Feeling nauseous, you walk over to Bro's bed, picking the covers up from the floor. His body is at ease, but your brother is smarter and more cunning than you; he is still wearing his shades and he could be easily watching you behind them, waiting for his chance to strike. You know this, and you know you are dooming yourself more with every step you take. Your mouth is dry, your hands feel shaky. You are having a whole bunch of regrets.
But you get even closer, ignoring his stretched out hand as you place the covers over his body.
Why the fuck aren't you running for the door?
You pull the covers all the way up to his neck, make sure his feet are covered too. You ignore the bulge that has formed underneath the fabric.
If something happens, it's going to be your fault.
You glance at his outstretched hand, at your bunched up underwear, deciding to leave it be. You look at your brother's face, at his impenetrable black shades, and wonder if his eyes are open behind them.
You will deserve everything that happens.
You are utterly unsurprised when Bro's fingers uncurl, letting your underwear drop down to the floor before he reaches out for your face, lifting his head up from the pillow.
"Let's see those eyes!"
He tugs your shades off your face, to better see the fear in you.
It's time for strife, and you already know you are going to lose.
