#why do i always turn into my own psychoanalyst if i point out literally Any oddity about my behavior/thoughts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

themockingcrows · 5 years ago

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Digitally Assisted Catharsis

Written for Drone Season 2019! https://archiveofourown.org/works/20024380

this fic is Not sfw! Dave Strider/Dirk Strider

cw: Manipulation, Sloppy Makeouts, Intercrural Sex, Oral Sex, Incest, Unrequited Lust

Sick of Dirk and Dave dragging their heels in furthering their relationship (is it a relationship officially or is it just the occasional need filled makeout that lasts as long as the boil over lasts before ending again?), Hal decides to help Dave see the light on why he should go ahead and finalize a real hookup with Dirk. Sometimes fools just need a little red text and a delicate digital hand to manipula- ...lead them along.

It was a blessing in disguise to know Dirk when he was younger, when there was still hints of baby fat along his cheeks and a softer edge to the sideburns he was growing in, when his limbs were strong but still a bit gangly and awkward from suddenly adjusting. When he wasn’t at his full height yet. There was no avoiding that he’d grow up to look exactly like Bro, and yet.. Dave was still thankful he’d gotten to see the younger version first. Thankful that he’d gotten to meet and to know him, that they’d gotten close. That he’d become aware of just how attracted he was to him at that age and in that shape. The real Dirk, the truest Dirk, was the one who had his heart in the palm of his hand even if he had no idea just how deep that interest ran save for a few quick kisses and more than a fair share of laying around in a pile lately.

This, of course, still left another issue: Dirk was going to grow up looking exactly like Bro, and while that should have bothered Dave at a fundamental level, it didn’t. Not at all. He was excited for the changes. Every inch Dirk grew, every bit of muscle he gained with his daily activities in his mechanics shop or his own workout regime, every stray hair he trained into place was just another step closer to looking like Bro. Dave knew he’d need to confront this issue sooner rather than later, the one settled deep in his gut squarely between the denial the guilt and the confusing lust, but the longer he could put it off theoretically the better for him. For both of them, especially if they ever wound up fooling around.

Right?

The long kept secret of being attracted to Bro, to daydreaming about him even when things got shitty, was haunting him and the more Dirk changed the closer it came to fulfilling a fantasy Dirk would have no idea he was taking part in. Maybe he could put off bringing any of it up at all and not think about it purposefully. Yeah, just keep all that bottled up like he had for years about his own sexuality and everything else, put a nice fat cork into it and bury it in his chest and cut it out as a tumor when he was thirty from the stress or some shit. That was a problem for future Dave sans time traveling, current Dave would be free to live his life and do shit on his own damn time, at his own pace, free from the little bit of Rose’s psychoanalyst side that lived in the back of his head like a bad habit.

Though... potentially this all was a problem for future Dirk too if Dave ever slipped and said the wrong thing at the wrong time, or if Dirk came to the question on his own and the conversation about the big gay Kamina shade wearing elephant in the room was forcefully brought up. Again, a problem for future Dave to deal with and for current Dave to wash his fucking hands of in a hurry rather than dwell on anymore. It was already awkward enough daydreaming about Dirk without letting him know the extent of those daydreams, throw in the whole Dirk overlapping Bro parallels and it was a one way trip to guilty jerking off town.

Very guilty jerking off town.

It was bad enough that Dave had spent a lot of his time fantasizing about Dirk thinking about clear memories of Bro’s hands and the curve of his jaw, the way his neck bent when he leaned forward over his keyboard, the pop of his back and shoulders when he rolled just right on the futon, the flat spanse of stomach when his shirt rode up while he slept or the way he looked down on him while pinning him on the roofto—

“Dave.”

Dave jerked his head up at his name, blood briefly cold. Christ, even the tone of his voice was starting to overlap with his memories, and despite years and literal universes between the two versions it wasn’t enough to make Dave not react with the confusing mix of lust and tension.

“Yeah?” he managed to get out, brows lifting a bit to show he was listening.

“You looked miles away,” Dirk said, reaching over to flick the space between Dave’s eyebrows gently before picking up his can of soda to take another sip. They’d been in his workshop for a while, Dave perched on a countertop where Dirk was piecing together a thousand pieces of something smaller than his pinky nail in excruciating detail just so there would be more realistic movement eventually when playing a game if what he said was to be believed. “I was asking if you wanted to hang out somewhere later or not. Maybe catch a movie or just order in and chill out somewhere else before coming home.”

More like catch a movie and then wind up in another tangle if last time they’d ‘chilled’ on a pre-set invitation instead of naturally relaxing was indicative of a potential pattern. One jokey half serious kiss had been all it took to wind up chest to chest on the floor connected at the mouth like they’d die if they were separated till the rush passed and they pulled apart to playfully punch each other in the arm and carry on like that hadn’t just happened. It was the most they did, the furthest they got: occasional kissing like they were going to combust, then coping with the subsequent raging hard ons afterwards till they subsided. Lounging around and full bodily contact was the norm otherwise, but it wasn’t nearly enough compared to what they could have.

“Yeah I’d be down for that,” Dave said without thinking much. “Oh. Right, before I forget though. You said you had an upgrade for my shades?”

Dirk looked up from what he was doing as if he’d just been reminded of something long dead. “Fuck. Right, yeah. Hand them over, I’ll go ahead and get this installed for you.”

“What is this precisely,” Dave asked as he removed his shades and handed them over. Anyone else he might have fought over them with or reminded them to be careful, they were important, John had given them to him for his birthday and it had meant the goddamn world. The old world to be precise. “You gonna sign me up for a bunch of porn spam or somethin’.”

“Pfft. Please, I’m not going to do anything like that. I’m just going to put this OS in instead, I’ve been tinkering with it and it works best for shades technology and eyeglasses as compared to phones or watches or laptops. Links up better with outside tech, tracks your eye movements more accurately. There’s even a better zoom mechanism for your nearsighted ass.”

“I’m not nearsighted,” Dave squawked immediately, but Dirk only laughed.

“Yes you are. You have no idea how fucking blind you actually are because you’ve been seeing the same way for so long, but trust me: you aren’t seeing as clearly as you could be. These aren’t going to be quite the same as normal corrective lenses of course, but as far as things go they might as fucking well be. Consider me Dr. Strider, but without the shitty slip of paper, wait times, excess fees, insurance quibbling and malpractice suits,” Dirk said as he crossed the room to reach his main computer hub, setting Dave’s shades on top of a wireless charging station while he brought up everything he needed.

As he typed and a few screens came to life, Dave noticed Dirk’s own shades casting the faintest light against his face from the inside as he worked. He came closer and poked one of the points, marveling that even through time and space they were exactly the fucking same as the ones he’d wanted to pull off of Bro so many times to kiss him. Dave stopped poking them with a shiver, blaming the earlier thought lines for invading his brain as far as they had. “Are you... usin’ a computer while on a computer?”

“No, I’m discussing things with Hal,” Dirk replied calmly. “I based some of the OS on the same innards from his system, and I’ll be making your shades function as well as my own do with this upgrade. It’s only right that I double check with him on the specs for your specs. He’d be able to tell the fit and adjustments for how much would need to remain in the cloud and how much could physically rest in the shades without altering their weight or shape at all a lot quicker than it would take me to sit down and measure everything by hand.”

The same light lit up the charging stand, though it was soon clear that charging wasn’t the only trick the machine could do. Dave watched his shades lift and slowly begin to turn as the arms unfolded, red light scanning the dimensions up and down, in and out. They formed on one of the computer screens as a wire diagram before being flipped left and right by Dirk, who was humming and continuing to type as slender arms rose from the base of the machine to start making adjustments and add small parts here and there.

“Wait, the same as his shit? I’m not gonna suddenly wind up with a wiseass thirteen year old copy of you stuck to my face, am I?”

Dirk smirked enough that it was visible, and Dave felt his stomach clench with lust again. It always struck him that he had a cute smile, but with the earlier thoughts it was wild to think that this was what Bro would look like if he’d smiled more regularly. If he grinned. If he laughed.

“I’d never subject you to Hal more than you’re already subjected to him,” he said as he reached forward to write something down by hand on a sticky note for later. It was no secret that Hal talked to Dave any chance he got, increasingly so lately despite Dirk’s interference. They never spoke about much, but the heckling edge was definitely different than Dirk himself. If he were ever put on the spot, Dave wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to explain how he could tell when he was being led around by Hal versus Dirk leading a conversation aside from the fact that they felt different in some deep fundamental way.

Namely that Hal, try as he might, wasn’t like Bro enough. Advanced or not, an AI could only go so far once the link with the original model had been severed. He was his own person at this point, just without a body and with a penchant for being a douchebag.

Within a few more minutes, Dave watched his shades being altered before his eyes before gently settling down once more as a few of the screens turned off. Dirk seemed satisfied as he picked them up carefully and lifted them towards the ceiling, peering up through them without putting them too close to his own face. A brief touch up with a small screwdriver to tighten the arms and the nose pad, and he held them out in offer.

“Here. Take them for a test drive.”

“We’re kinda past test drive stage, you’re lettin’ me off the lot with them because if we sit in here for ten minutes longer you’re gonna wind up rememberin’ ten other things you were workin’ on and then we’ll never leave,” Dave said as he accepted his shades and plopped them back onto his face without a second glance. It took all of his will power to remain calm faced at what was happening behind the tinted glass.

For one thing, he could see clearer than he ever had in his life. Every surface was crisp, every bit of writing he could see in range was clear, and when it wasn’t it took mere seconds of trying to focus on it to make it clearer. He squinted and it zoomed further, but not to a superhuman level without a prompt message popping up asking if he wished to enable the actual zoom function. Colors seemed brighter despite the dark shading, and the rush of new information was already making his head ache a bit.

For another thing, Dave could have sworn he saw the chat client window open and then hurriedly close itself as if something were trying to autorun. A quick pop open didn’t show anything out of the ordinary, but when he closed it with a few pointed eye gestures it showed the strangest addition yet. Red text hung in front of his eyes without the chat client being active, without a handle, and yet he knew it in an instant in his gut.

Hello, Dave.

No, but. Dirk said he wasn’t going to install Hal into these, and he trusted Dirk’s words. The guy might stretch the truth now and then if there was an end goal that he felt was worth it, but he’d never outright lied to him before. If this wasn’t Hal then maybe it was something else. Maybe the OS had its own assistant, and he was just knee jerking at the red text despite seeing it every time he texted a friend anyway.

Dirk was still standing and watching with a pleased grin on his face.

“Well? How do they feel?”

“They feel... pretty rad actually. I guess you were right about the eyesight thing, but how’d you make the colors brighter?”

“You’re not color blind but I figured your eyes were kind of fucky like mine. Things look kind of washed out normally. Bit of correction in there with the normal tint and.. Voila.” His grin faded briefly. “But, really, aside from that. Does the tracking work alright? Are the lights too bright? Is the sensitivity too strong? I could adjust anything you need in a second, it’d just take a few minutes t—”

“Dude, I thought you were supposed to be the chill one,” Dave smirked, shaking his head. Stupid. Shouldn’t worry about something as simple as a glasses-bound version of Siri. He went and seized Dirk’s hand, squeezed it as he pecked his cheek, then manually began to drag him out of the workshop. “Trust me when I say everything’s Gucci and that this is even more of a sign that you need to get the fuck outta here for a while and clear your head. Let’s catch a movie or somethin’, and then we can get some junk food and chillax.”

Called out and forced from his space before he was ready to go (really it would have just taken a few minutes more to finish another project he’d remembered now that the shades upgrade was finished, it only he’d get the time to do it), Dirk had no way to fight back if he even had the desire to do so. Fighting it and being a bitch wouldn’t get him another cheek kiss or keep Dave’s warm hand in his own with their fingers laced. Nobody ever questioned the hand holding thing they’d started doing thanks to Roxy doing the same thing with everybody she came within ten feet of that she liked, and he was grateful for it.

“Yeah, yeah, alright you slave driver. Rescue me from my prison of choice with promises of ludicrous adventures in cinema and snack foods like some hapless damsel who wasn’t in distress. In any other case this would be kidnapping, but you can’t exactly kidnap the willing,” Dirk said. He tightened his grip on Dave’s fingers and felt him squeeze back as they walked, feeling a similar squeeze in his chest.

Fuck.

Fuck did he love this guy. He just hoped that he could actually have this, could enjoy this, without the shadow of a ghost he never met hanging over them both.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The writing wasn’t Siri. There was no way in hell in was some kind of general OS abstraction. No, the words in Dave’s vision absolutely had to be Hal. The movie they’d gone to see had been interesting enough even if Dave had some very pointed concerns about the directing quality and some of the acting methods the people in the film employed (namely that it was cheesy as shit but wasn’t owning it damn it, step up and be one with the cheddar if that’s what your aim is don’t pussy foot around it pretending you’re being serious!), with Dirk leaning against his side with the middle arm pushed back out of the way the entire time. They’d indulged in popcorn to split, and a drink each, yet while Dirk’s entire focus was on the movie and gently whispering commentary near Dave’s ear with his warm breath, some of Dave’s focus was split away to read red words in front of his eyes in the dark.

Surprised?

To put it lightly, yeah. He debated opening Pesterchum up and contacting him directly, but was concerned it would just ping Dirk instead and there’d be all kinds of confusion. Maybe even an argument, considering Dirk had said he wasn’t installing Hal and yet, here he was. Before he could concern himself too much, a small blip of a word processor screen opened up with the cursor gently pulsing in offer.

how in the fuck

You seem so thrilled. Are you enjoying the movie? replied the text in front of his eyes instead of on the word processor screen.

Dave bit down some agitation and typed, adding to the questions in a new line as if he were texting himself.. you know damn well the movies just a movie whats your game?? howre you here when dirk didnt install you

A digital castaway who’ll uninstall himself from your shades the second he’s done should be the least of your problems. Put your arm around Dirk’s shoulders, he’d rather die than admit it but he’ll melt if you do it.

Though suspicious, Dave had been considering doing just that on his own time, and decided to go for it. Dirk stiffened for a moment as his arm snaked around his shoulders, then relaxed even heavier against his side, warm and cozy as he continued to watch the screen. Okay. So Hal knew Dirk wanted cuddled, big whoop.

seriously though why are you here and why are you bugging me ive got important shit to do and im kinda not digging the invasive text in front of my eyes thing its creepy

If I had teeth of my own I’d be sick to them from watching you two day in and day out, did you know that? It’s like watching a particularly stupid set of dogs run into a fence that stands between them over and over because neither of them is smart enough to step to the side and go around to the opening to get at the other dog. You’re both intelligent enough, yet you keep everything at arms length.

you wouldnt understand why im doing that. dirk might understand what you mean and you might be right for him but theres legit good reasons for me , Dave replied as he took a sip of soda, trying to watch the screen again to avoid missing too much of the plot.

Because you want to jerk off to Bro and Dirk’s not a good enough stand in, or because you wanted to get plowed and realized this incarnation is as much of a bottom as you?

Dave choked on his soda after inhaling half a gulp in shock, turning his head away from a questioning Dirk to avoid spitting on him at all. “I’m good,” he wheezed. “M’fine, don’t worry. It’s chill. Popcorn kernel caught soda and it all went down the wrong tube.”

“If you’re sure,” said Dirk uncertainly, watching him for another moment in case he needed to slap his back before settling down into the cuddly gesture from before like an affectionate lap pet savoring the attention and contact that he hadn’t had to ask for.

“Yeah. Promise,” Dave said, throwing a kiss to Dirk’s temple in while he was at it before settling down quietly again and furiously typing with his eyes. excuse the fuck out of you

For being correct? It’s fairly obvious if you look at how you react to mention of him in certain contexts, and how you’ve stared at Dirk over the years as he’s aged. Were you truly that bothered, I don’t believe you’d continue pursuing Dirk. No, not just pursuing, pursuing with more interest as he began to look more like a grown man.

Dave felt his face grow hot and his stomach twist uncomfortably around the kernels of popcorn swimming in soda that he’d imbibed so far, and he suddenly became acutely aware of his palm growing damp against Dirk’s shoulder. Couldn’t pull away though, not with him cuddled up so close and perfect like he was, but. Ugh, he’d never wanted to punch something without a body harder than he wanted to punch Hal right now.

i said excuse the fuck out of you. who asked? what difference does it make? its a complicated fucking thing and i dont need a fucking ai talking to me about morality and boners and incest just because it decided to stow away into my shades for some fucking reason.

There was a lull in the responses then. For a few minutes it was peaceful as it had been before, letting Dave get back to popcorn and the movie and soft murmurs back and forth with Dirk as he tried not to laugh or draw attention to the pair of them as the people on screen flickered back and forth. Then, like an unwanted storm it trickled back.

Nobody asked. Dirk would never ask either. But you see, that’s where he and I are quite split. If you’ll recall, he and I haven’t been identical since he wrote my code, and I’ve changed quite considerably from whatever he was before even if our core is the same. We’re identical enough and I have enough thoughts of his outside of simple observation and conversation with him that I can easily tell what’s going on inside his head. His tells are quite easy to decipher if you have half a brain.

Dave felt his eye twitch as he began to type again, but Hal continued before he could get far.

Dirk’s worried that you aren’t advancing anything because of who he resembles. I don’t believe he really understands that his appearance is a bonus to you, given the circumstances and the information he has on what a douche canoe your guardian turned out to be. If he understood anything he’d comprehend that you’re not advancing anything because you’re as much of a bottom as he is.

now wait a fucking second there

Am I wrong? Or are you actually a switch who switches?

i am not talking about this with you holy shit why is this even a thing thats happening right now. i came here to chill and watch a movie and maybe make out afterward not argue with an ai over if im a bottom or not and delve into my love life. go bug rose im sure shed love having a deep philosophical conversation about my attributes or even her own way more than me

Dave lifted his shades up and rested them atop his head to avoid the words for the rest of the movie, Dirk giving him more than a few glances to watch the multicolored lights play across the bridge of his nose and the red of his eyes. Even with his eyes on the film, though, it was impossible to focus any longer on anything but his own thoughts. Why was Hal there? Why, out of everything in the world, was he wanting to talk about he and Dirk’s fledgling fumbles at romance? Why was he so set on calling them both bottoms? Even worse, why did he bring up the Bro thing on the exact day he’d already been tossing the concept around in his head for the upteenth time this year?

Worst fucking timing, rudest fucking AI, 0/10 would give negative review on Yelp.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Good afternoon, Dave. Have you given consideration to what I was talking about before?

Dave had managed the rest of the movie without his shades, and had nearly made it outside before the bright glare from outside the double doors made him wince and instinctively pull them down. Seeing that red text sitting there waiting for him made him want to scream, but it would’ve been pretty uncool and very much concerning for Dirk if he suddenly went off like that while holding his hand, so cautious texting while walking instead it was. He made sure to lace their fingers good and tight though, even adding a bit of a swing as they set their pace and headed off for the hell of it.

you gonna keep asking till you get answers or is there an off switch i can find for you somewhere in the settings of this thing. He paused a moment before pressing further. or better yet why not just tell dirk and let him in on this little bit of bullshit youre pulling on me here.

By all means, throw away the only hope you’ll ever get on this subject that could be beneficial. It’d be fitting really. The Prince of Heart forever destroying and remaking himself because he can’t change who he is at his deepest core, not knowing that every inch of him past present future and alternate reality is something that you’ve wanted for a long time. The knight holding the prince in stalemate because of his inability to lift the metaphorical sword and strike. Poetic almost, but it would be far more poetic if the swords were dicks and some fencing was involved. I’m certain Dirk would agree.

And there went Dave’s mind again, flickering briefly to the times he and Dirk had wound up in a hot and heavy tangle on the floor, the press of dick against his abdomen, that strain of fabric he found himself working his own hips against instinctively till the heat of the moment had cleared enough for them to pull apart again. He felt his pulse kick up and he wet his lips reflexively.

fine. start talking. you keep talking about what dirk would like and keep acting like hed somehow be fine with the whole

Dave shifted his gaze to the side, observing Dirk as they walked down the street, traces of his orange eyes flickering here and there to track what was coming down the street and what was in the storefront windows that they passed. Okay, good, safe.

the bro thing. if hes that chill with it i guess i can try to figure out how to spill the beans and.. idk. go for it?

I’m not entirely certain Dirk would be immediately comfortable with the idea of you still thirsting after your older Brother when he was such a dirtbag and having that same thirst for him. Not at first at least.

didnt you just wax poetic about quenching dirks thirst and drag me left and right for an entire fucking half a movie because we havent fooled around yet? what the shit is up with the fucking change of tone here im getting mixed messages

Notice I said “Not at first”. If you go ahead and act on your desires, all of them, then he’d be satisfied. Whatever comes later won’t be permanently bad I assume, but I’ve got no idea for absolutely certain if he won’t flip his shit for a bit first.

then why are you trying to get us to fuck if itd hurt him potentially, thats kind of the opposite of what im into here

Dave could almost hear the pause for a laugh. He was grateful Hal lacked a voice chip or force feedback right now that he was aware of, uncertain if he’d be able to prevent himself from breaking either his shades or Dirk’s in some misguided attempt to destroy him as if they were able to have a fist fight over some snarky bullshit instead of it being majority one sided frustration and anger and the other being satisfied as the cat that ate the cream.

Long term goals and short term goals, Dave. If you two go ahead and bone then the tension will ease in the air, you two can get your release any time you want, and I can stop gagging on my own code from watching you morons carry on for a second longer. That’s the short term goal. Long term, he’ll come to terms with the Bro thing one way or another if it’s because of you. Dirk’s a genius, but geniuses can be alarmingly idiotic in some strange ways, especially when they’re meatbags.

...and if im not entirely down with this what then. what happens if stuff just stays like it is and we see if things happens organically instead of me taking cues from a creepy ai talking at me by typing in front of my eyes. like are you gonna be doing this during the deed if it goes that far am i gonna be seeing red text when the dicks come out or nah

What was he thinking. There was no way he could really be thinking of indulging this bullshit, was there? Hal was obviously manipulating him, it was plain and simple he wanted to manipulate them both for his own end goals even if they were benign as just being annoyed with watching their antics as a couple. ...A couple? Wait, were they actually dating? Were they dating at all? Nobody had really asked, and it was kind of assumed he thought but. ...No, it wasn’t assumed even, Dave knew there was still the occasional afternoon at Jake’s, but that was fine wasn’t it? Especially if they weren’t already dating.

Dave blamed Hal for the sudden sense of concern and possessiveness clawing at his stomach. He wanted Dirk to be his and only his, if possible. He’d already lost Bro before, lost all the potential opportunities, and now he’d gotten Dirk and fallen for him and there was no way he was going to risk losing him to Jake even if the guy was built like a brick shit house and had an ass that would make Helen of Troy jealous. Forget the face that launched a thousand ships, English had an ass that could launch a thousand ships into space if he bent over in shorts too quickly.

… Why was he hyperfixating on Jake English’s ass all at once instead of focusing on Dirk and the potential of them fooling around that was starting to feel more and more like a probability instead of a possibility. No doubt Dirk was down, he probably wouldn’t be dry humping him on the floor mid-makeout if he wasn’t interested in potentially going further right? Just needed a nudge. They both needed a nudge, since close as they were Dirk was still no Bro and Dave himself was... Well. Dave.

Well, if you let things hang as they are, who’s to say how much longer it will remain as it is? You can only let a plant wither so long before it dies even if you have the best intentions. Plans to water a garden don’t water the fucking garden now do they.

He didn’t really appreciate the sentiment, but it was a vivid one that hit home. Things were comfortable right now, but how much longer could it last with them both stringing each other along hoping for the other one to make the first move? If Dave himself just nudged things over the barrier and Dirk was into it then all the better right? They’d be over the hill and the rest of everything could just come to the surface over time as they got into a more comfortable routine with the added security.

Dave stole another glance over towards Dirk, startled to realize he was being watched again as he struggled to remain calm on his exterior save for a twitch of a grin at the edge of his mouth.

“What, I got somethin’ on my face?”

“Nah, you just still seem kinda not really here. You not feeling well today? Or did the movie leave that bad a taste in your mouth? You stopped commenting on the directing halfway through, and there’s no way the plot managed to catch your interest so much that you’d actually be quiet for long as you were before starting up again,” he said. Observant as always. Damn it.

“Oh. No, I’m fine man. I think it’s just the shades, they’re a lot to get used to in a theater. That’s why I took’em off for a while there actually, I’m not used to seein’ stuff that crisp and clear, it was kinda givin’ me a headache,” he lied, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could so much as pause and think through the fib.

“Well, if you’re sure..”

“I am, don’t worry. Promise,” Dave said as he squeezed Dirk’s fingers.

Will you water the garden, Dave?

ill water it , he typed back, focusing on just how nice it felt to hold Dirk’s hand in his own, trying to let his mind stray purposefully to what else might feel nice with those calloused hands. the drought is gonna fucking end in style

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dave’s prediction about how the evening would go had come true, to the surprise of nobody. After wandering for a bit and getting a bite to eat, they wound up together in the living room in a comfortable pile with the cushions yanked off the furniture and a spare blanket adding some extra comfort to the mix. Dirk was resting his back against his stomach and had a long arm slung up around to his lower back, fingers rubbing aimlessly. They were chattering off and on about what was on screen and generally relaxing when the aimless rubbing took on the edge of a one handed massage. Dave stroked Dirk’s hair gently as he’d pet a cat, taking special pride in the fact that he was able to touch that when most others wouldn’t be allowed to, not minding the gentle tension the hair gel had against his hand like some kind of organic architecture as opposed to a hairstyle. He stroked back one more time before the urge to kiss him reared its head, and right on cue the words flashed in front of Dave’s eyes once more in bright crimson.

Water the garden, Dave.

fuck off

Not wanting to disrupt the moment by taking off his shades and chucking them, Dave curled his body to kiss the side of Dirk’s neck softly, bracing the far side of his ribs with his knees to keep him in place within the coil of his body. Needing no prompting, Dirk turned in place to catch Dave’s lips in his own, and soon enough they were coiling together in a new position, climbing each other over and over as if they were drowning and trying to reach the surface of the water, drowning blissfully so long as they were able to keep lip to lip. Their teeth clicked together twice hard enough that it stung but it failed to deter either of them from what they wanted.

Dirk rocked his hips and arched his back, Dave scratched his hips and tangled his fingers in the dark fabric of his shirt to keep him near, both gasping for air between spurts of frantic kisses. Dave felt heat in his abdomen, felt his stomach clench, and more insistently felt his dick ache every time Dirk squirmed against him. He was far from a small guy, and every inch of muscle and bone beneath the flush warmed skin was making it worse and worse. When Dirk went to pull back for air again, Dave could tell the inevitable separation was going to follow. He felt the tension leaving Dirk’s body save for his erection, knew that he’d just slip away and rest in the same position as before with a soft laugh and they’d carry on like before. Same as they had dozens of times by now. Same as always.

Not this time, though.

As Dirk tried to pull back Dave pushed forwards, doing his best to ignore the flash of red in front of his eyes once more, a moving image of hands clapping that disappeared quick as he got the kiss going once more. Tensing in surprise Dirk opened his eyes behind his shades, sharing up through two layers of tinting to try reading Dave’s expression, trying to understand for certain. Dave smiled against his lips and rolled his hips suggestively forwards a few times.. and sighed softly once he felt the tension leave Dirk’s body and realized he was yielding to the idea.

Told you so.

i said fuck off

No need to be bitchy, I’m simply stating facts.

Dave closed his eyes to ignore any further text as he rolled them, pinning Dirk down by the shoulders with his own forearms and bracing himself to continue deepening the kiss as he felt Dirk’s breathing pick up beneath him. It was delicious really. He was so ready, so pliant already. Was Bro like this in bed? Behind all the bravado and macho exterior, was he this willing to roll over and spread his legs when the time was right? Or was the universe shift and the different upbringing enough to change him and make him just as dominant as he acted in day to day life for appearances sake or not?

No, focus. Dirk. Not Bro. Focus on here, on now. Focus on Dirk and how sweetly he was groaning when Dave licked past his lips to explore his mouth, the soft scratch of nails against the fabric of his jeans and the way he could feel that hardened body arch and stretch and shiver every time he rocked his hips. Dave already knew there was no way they’d be able to go all the way, not this unprepared, but is mind was already filling in the blanks with scenarios he’d imagined across the board in ways that might be fulfilling for them both.

Either way, Dirk was going to come for him. That much was certain.

Dave tipped his head and broke the kiss, working down the column of Dirk’s throat to where the pulse was beginning to hammer harder against his lips before he bit down hard enough to leave a ghost of a bruise. His hands slid down the square of Dirk’s chest to his waist, then smoothed forward to slip open his pants as he started to travel downwards, heart in his throat. This was it. The big reveal. He’d felt this dick against him before, had seen it in his dreams past and present, and the mystery would finally be revealed at about the same time he’d need to come to terms with not knowing how to actually suck dick.

“You sure?” he asked, wetting his lips best he could. “I mean. We don’t need to rush anything, I’m fine taking it slow. Or. At all I guess. Just. Fuck, are you sure?”

It was the least positive Dave had ever heard him, and the quake in his voice was to die for. Nothing had even happened and yet it felt like Dirk was barely holding himself together at the seams.

“Yeah,” Dave breathed as he scooted down further, perching on his knees between Dirk’s thighs. He could smell precome on top of the scent of soap from his copious showers, as well as the faint smell of popcorn from the theater earlier clinging to his clothes as they were pulled aside. “Yeah. I’m sure. Chill, a’ight? I got this.”

Did he? Oh, he did.

Probably.

Was it weird to call a dick pretty? It probably was, wasn’t it. The tiny Rose that lived in the back of his head was ready to go off, but Hal’s red writing beat her to the punch. Yet there wasn’t really any other way to describe Dirk’s than just that: it was nicely shaped, a good size in Dave’s opinion, had a gentle curve and was nestled comfortably in a thatch of darker blonde curls. It was like a dick out of an absurdly well drawn anime or comic, which in a way was fitting for him. Of course he’d have the doujinshi dick. Of course he would.

It as nice as you hoped? I’d be more smug, but Dirk hasn’t gotten around to building one for me yet. I think because he’s insecure and not prepared to be outdone by me yet again by his own hand.

Ignoring the flood of red, Dave was enthralled by Dirk’s reactions to him instead. He was trying to sit up on his elbows, staring down with a dry mouth and wide eyes, cock straining and leaking more the closer Dave’s mouth grew to it. It emboldened Dave once he realized that it seemed like anything he did would be appreciated and enjoyed by someone enthusiastic instead of it being judged. He reached out with his tongue as he glanced up, worried he’d gag or make a stupid face if he didn’t focus on something, hoping it was a good visual. From how flushed Dirk had grown, it seemed like it was plenty good enough.

Sucking dick turned out to feel a lot like coming home. Maybe it was because he already knew his way around his own equipment and could guess what might feel great or not based on personal jacking off experience. The flavor wasn’t amazing, yeah, but the sensation as much as the idea of what he was doing was proving to be more than enough to get himself hard and aching. Dave undid his own pants and freed his cock with a tentative stoke before focusing twice as hard on what he was doing to stimulate Dirk, mind finally being made up on what he intended to do to him.

To?

No. With.

With him.

….. To him had a nice ring to it, though.

One hand stroked the length Dave couldn’t fit between his lips, quickly growing wet from how messy the blowjob was turning out to be, while the other gently kneaded and fondled Dirk’s balls once they were also fished out of his jeans. Dirk had continued to shuffle his clothes down till they were at last off, awkwardly trying to toe off his socks without running the risk of dislodging Dave from his hard earned perch.

He was gentle when he took Dave’s head in his hands, hesitating quite obviously for a solid thirty seconds before finally clasping those calloused hands to the back of his neck, then up into his short blonde hair to gently tug. Dave was pretty sure he’d come right then and there as his thoughts blurred past and present, dream and reality, desire and need with just the pressure of those hands. He moaned louder than anticipated and doubled his efforts on making Dirk come, bobbing his head quickly enough that even Dirk finally groaned and started to rock his hips beyond his own control.

Here I’d been trying to convince you to go ahead and fuck Dirk so I could finally have some peace and quiet beyond watching you two fail at your attempts to successfully move beyond initial courtship, and you go above and beyond at showing what a slut you are the second someone akin to Bro grabs your head and humps. Do you plan on swallowing too? Live the full fantasy?

He hadn’t intended on swallowing, but now that the idea was lodged in his brain, it seemed like a good thing to attempt. Nearly there but not quite. A perfect match as a match could be, yet still entirely separate. The hottest shade of a ghost he’d ever experienced in his fucking life, and the tiny Rose in the back of his mind that was worried he was accidentally using Dirk for his own means was dead silent at last. Dirk’s head fell back as he came, salty against Dave’s tongue as he tried his best to swallow and gave up, pulling back to let the mess of drool and come slide onto Dirk’s thighs.

“Jesus. Jesus fuck, dude, where did that come from?” Dirk asked through heavy pants, looking dizzy with pleasure as Dave wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm. “I mean. Shit, I mean I liked it but it was kind of sudde-”

Dave shoved him backwards suddenly and lifted his slender legs upwards till Dirk obediently lifted his feet up as well. No resistance. No questions. Just acceptance and staring orange eyes, flushed cheeks and wet lips, a messy dick that was steadily going flaccid and the slick mess of his thighs. He hooked Dirk’s legs up against his shoulder and braced, lining his own cock up not with his ass, but with the slickness of thigh. It took all of two slides for Dirk to get the idea and clench his legs tight as he could, hissing air between his teeth as he was fenced at from below, still overly sensitive from having just come himself.

It was desperate, quick motions and running on instinct. Dirk was moving beneath him deliciously, tensing his muscles and loosening them when it was too much to handle, shuddering, making Dave wonder if this was what he’d be like while really being fucked. If this was what Bro was like, or if this was how he’d wind up if they swapped. Would he be able to handle that? Would he be able to handle getting pinned down and worked over like this? It was too much to think about at once.

Not long after starting what was, essentially, a hurried humping motion as opposed to anything dripping with skill and experience, Dave added to the re-warmed mess on Dirk’s legs and up against his abdomen before leaning forward against his straight legs while they both caught their breath. Endorphins and afterglow made for a dreamy soft sensation when Dave finally scooted back on shaky legs and flopped down on the ground beside Dirk in the pile once more, trying to wrap his head around what they’d just done. What he’d just done.

“That was. …Good,” Dave finally said as he stared wide eyed at the ceiling, words fleeing his mind like sand through clasped fingers. He wasn’t that articulate to begin with when his brain was fried, but this was a step and a half fucking beyond.

“Really good,” Dirk murmured. He rolled and slid a heavy arm across Dave’s chest, nestling close and comfortable. He took his shades off and dropped them an arms length away suddenly, leaving Dave unsure whether it was because he wanted to not have the Kamina looking motherfuckers jabbing into the cushions and digging into his nose when not trying to rip the fabric, or because Hal was bothering him.

Not bad, and success: he’s not aware in the slightest still that you have a throbbing hard on for his alternate self. It’s a win win, but mostly a win for me. I assume you’ll be doing this in the future again, yes? This wasn’t a one time thing? Affirm this wasn’t a one time thing, the idea of you two properly fucking and carrying on instead of being the dating equivalent of a cordyceps ant clinging to a leaf might be a cause to celebrate. I might even run a disc cleaning on myself, get those hard to reach files a nice thorough scrubdown.

what did i tell you to do earlier

Tell me to fuck off once more and see if I care, Dave. I was right, and that’s enough for me. Even Dirk had to admit I was right. Affirm that this wasn’t a one time thing, and I’ll leave you be for now til you inevitably need me again.

Dave took his shades off without another word and tossed them on top of Dirk’s before holding him closer, loosely tangling their legs together in the mishmash of a nest on the floor with a sigh. Was this situation perfect? No. Would there be problems in the future? Potentially. Did he have confidence they’d figure it out together, especially now that they’d managed to slide over that mutual gap for the first time?

He was pretty sure they’d find a way, hopefully without excess red text.

#Stridercest #homestuck #dirkdave #my fic #dave strider #dirk strider #lil hal

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flowerpowell · 6 years ago

Text

Meet-Cute (Drake x MC)

PART FOUR

Part four is here, and to be honest, I’m quite happy with it! I like how it turned out even though I sort of ended the slow burn we all love 😂 Anyway, I hope you’ll all like it too! Feedback is always very appreciated!

All rights go to Pixelberry, I don’t own the characters.

Rating: PG-18 (slight ns*w by the end)

Word count: 1769

When Friday came, Riley was ready to drop out and come back to the States. The thought of another class with Drake gave her anxiety and she was considering not going.

But then again, what was the point? She’d only fall behind and had to catch up on the material.

Tired and annoyed, Riley made it into the classroom only to be greeted with Amanda flirting with Drake.

Good luck with that. This man can’t flirt for life.

She sat down next to Luke who was coldly staring at the teacher and Amanda talking.

“Hey, what’s up?” she asked studying his face. He looked weird, very focused and very angry.

“I hate the guy,” he nodded towards Drake, “he hates me and you for whatever reason but flirts with Amanda like there’s no tomorrow. He just want to get some, stupid jerk.”

“What, him? Please, he can’t flirt!” Riley said shaking her head. If he could he would flirt with her when he had the chance two years ago, right?

“And how do you know that?”

“Body language. Look into his eyes, he’s uncomfortable.”

“Man, you’re really good at this. You’re gonna make a great psychoanalyst!” Luke smiled at her and she blushed. This was her main goal, she loved analyzing people.

“Okay people, sit down,” Drake’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

Here we go again.

“What does have North and South have in common with the topic of our last class? Maybe...Amanda? I’m sure you’ll know,” Drake smiled warmly at Amanda and Riley’s eyes widened.

What? What does he think he’s doing?

“It’s set during Industrial Revolution and it shows the effects it had on people,” Amanda replied, smiling at the teacher as well and Riley felt the sudden urge to scratch her eyes out.

For no reason.

“Very good, Amanda! Today we will focus on relations between North and South, between the people from these two worlds.”

“It’s a little bit like us,” Amanda started, “we are from two different world but share the same passion for history.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Umm, kind of,” Drake was clearly a little bit disconcerted by the remark but tried to keep a straight face.

“Anyway, can some point out the differences between the main characters, Margaret Hale and John Thorton?”

“Their attitude to work, to money. John is prejudiced and doesn’t like or trust people. Margaret trusts people and wants to help them,” Luke noticed and Drake made a wry face.

“Mhm, it’s a correct answer but I didn’t ask you. As you read, Margaret was from the South, which was a rural region whereas John was from the industrial North. Mr. Thorton worked very hard on what he had but Margaret didn’t understand it and misjudged him. I think it’s safe to say it was Margaret who was prejudiced.” Drake explained.

“Are you trying to make Margaret a bad character? Cause she’s not! She helped many people!” Riley interrupted, already tired with Drake’s prejudice against Luke.

“She helped many people but she made a lot of mess along the way. She definitely wasn’t the best for Mr. Thorton.” Drake answered calmly.

“She tried her best!”

“...and failed? Every single of her actions hurt John.”

“She never hurt him!

“What about that time when Margaret left, which means she left Mr. Throton as well. Was it a good decision?”

“Yes.”

“Oh really?” Drake asked mockingly, “How so? Cause she wanted to torture Thorton?”

“She had nothing left!”

“She had him!” Drake exclaimed and Riley realized he was talking more about their situation from two years ago, not so much about the book.

“This place was ruining her!” she argued.

“So it’s better to leave like this and ruin him, huh?”

“She left him a message!” Riley remembered the events from two years ago and didn’t want Drake to play the victim. Since he was referring to their situation, she decided to do so too.

“A message! After she left!”

“And what exactly did he do to make her stay, huh? Why didn’t he fight?”

“Umm...but..” Amanda started but everyone ignored her.

“How could he know she wanted to leave?”

“Well, maybe he should’ve acted as if he cared more!”

“Care? He didn’t care? It was her who didn’t care!”

“She literally said she loved him in the letter! And he?”

“I can’t seem to find that in the book...” Amanda murmured frantically flipping through the pages.

“What did he do? What did he do? I’ll tell you what he did! When she was busy writing this fucking letter, he was telling his best friend that he was in love with his woman. He had an argument with his best friend over a woman he loved. He came to her fucking room to tell her he loved her but all he found was this fucking letter and she was gone. That’s what he did!”

Riley froze as everyone remained silent. She felt her classmates’ eyes on her but she didn’t care.

Did he just say he loved me? Did he just...does he love me? Did he talk to Liam...Did he...

“Excuse me, can someone show me the exact passage we’re talking about now? I swear I read it last night and I can’t find it now...” Amanda raised her hand but no one answered her.

Riley felt like she couldn’t breathe. He loved her. If she hadn’t left that night they could be together now. Did he still love her?

“I...excuse me,” Riley took her bag and quickly stormed out of the classroom.

“Shit,” Drake cursed as he took his own bag.

“Class dismissed, write an essay on why communication is crucial based on Margaret and John. Have a nice weekend,” he said as he ran out of the room as well.

“Riley!” he cried out seeing her on campus, walking towards her dorm.

“Riley wait, Riley!” he yelled causing Riley to stop and turn back.

Before he could say anything else, Riley closed the distance between them and kissed him so hard that Drake was taken aback for a while. Only for a while. He returned the kiss with even more passion, pouring all his emotions, relief that she was fine, pain that she left, anger that she played with him, into the kiss.

They were in the middle of the campus, kissing like crazy, like their lives depended on it. It felt like hours before they parted, both breathless with wild looks in their eyes. They had waited enough.

“Your place or mine?” Drake rasped still holding her close as if afraid she could disappear.

“Yours, I have a roommate,” she panted and without giving her any time to catch her breath, he took her hand and led her to his apartment

~~~~

He didn’t even lock the door in his apartmenet before he threw Riley on his bed, eager to finally do all the things he dreamed of doing for almost three years. Waiting would be damned. It was already too long.

He was kissing her neck trying to take off her dress while she was removing his clothes. It didn’t take long before all their clothes lay scattered all over Drake’s bedroom.

No talking, just indulging their deepest desires, showing all the unspoken emotions in the most intimate way they knew. Making up for the lost time and silently promising to never part again. Exploring, or rather discovering their bodies for the first time, their moans and cries filling up the apartment. Reaching a peak together, once, twice, and then doing it again, and again, till they dozed off, content in each others arms.

~~~~

Riley woke up and found Drake already looking at her.

“Hey, creep. Momma didn’t teach you not to stare at sleeping people?”

Drake chuckled, “I wasn’t staring. I was admiring how beautiful you looked.”

“That’s still creepy,” she gave him a wide smile, which faded quickly.

“We should talk,” she said and Drake nodded. “I guess we should.”

“I didn’t know you talked to Liam. I had no idea you had any intention to...But you must understand, I never left to make you feel bad, I just...There was so much drama, you were very distant and I had to literally push you onto me, you never initiated any kiss and I started thinking you didn’t want me,” Riley shook her head not letting Drake interrupt her. “People thought I was the King’s mistress who cheated on him with Tariq, Madeleine hated me, Liam had zero time for me and I felt overwhelmed with everything. It was not my life, you know? Not the life I wanted. So I left the notes and decided to start living on my terms. I went back to the States, changed my name so the Tariq scandal wouldn’t follow me everywhere and went to uni. And here I am. It was never about hurting you.”

Drake listened silently and gripped her hand.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should’ve known it was hard on you too. I was so distant cause I didn’t want to betray Liam. That night I went there and talked to him because I couldn’t hide my feelings anymore. And imagine my surprise when I saw you were gone. And nowhere to be found. But anyway, I’m sorry. I should’ve acted like a jerk when I saw you again.”

“I guess we should’ve had this conversation when we met again, that would save a whole lot of trouble!” Riley laughed before twisting her face in a serious expression.

“I still don’t know why you’re here, Drake. Or rather, Mr. Stagger? Why did you change your name? To start over too?”

“Mhm, kinda.”

“Drake, why did you change your name? I told you my story, tell me yours!” Riley looked at him expectantly but he was avoiding her gaze.

“It’s not that important, we can talk about it later,” he got up and started looking for his clothes.

“Drake! I thought we were talking, I thought we were being honest. Why are you making it a secret? Why did you change your name, is it so hard to answer?”

Drake sighed and turned to face her. He took a few deep breaths before locking his eyes with hers and replying.

“Because they all think I killed Liam.”

Tagging: @littlegreenmoo @agent-bossypants @flowerpowell @mysteli @gardeningourmet @annekebbphotography @mymandrake @butindeed @walkerduchess @brightpinkpeppercorn @choicessa @violinist3121 @jlouise88 @innerpostmentality @tmarie82 @blackcatkita @darley1101 @littleeeepeach @ooo-barff-ooo @sleepwalkingelite @traeumerinwitzhelden @jovialyouthmusic @nikkis1983 @notoriouscs @melodyofgraves @zaffrenotes @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @rhymesmenagerie @emichelle @drakesroyalromance @drakewalkerisreal @mrsnazariowrites @furiousherringoperatortoad @lynne1993 @drakesensworld @iplaydrake @thequeenofcronuts @confessionsofabrokegirl @xxcaptainchrispowellxx ♥

#trr #the royal romance #drake walker #drake x mc #choices #choices fanfiction #playchoices fanfiction #choices stories you play #the royal romance fanfiction #im kinda proud so pls dont let it die lmao #worked hard on this one #and might be my fave #scheduled post

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sceptilemasterr · 6 years ago

Text

MW Act 1, Scene 6 - Analysis

Title: Most Wanted: The Hollywood Killer (A CIU Screenplay)

Main Pairings: Dave x Sam

Other Pairings: N/A

Genre: Full Rewrite

Rating: PG-13 for violence, blood, swearing, alcohol, and sexuality

Summary: While talking to the crime lab’s eccentric trio, Sam and Dave learn more about Tull... and each other.

Previous Scene: The Other Case

Masterlist: Link

INT. L.A.P.D. STATION - CRIME LAB - NIGHT

The crime lab is a scene best described as “organized chaos.” Pop music blares from a speaker sitting at the workstation of a man with short black hair, glasses, and a blue cardigan, spinning idly in his chair. This is NIKHIL MANTHA, forensic specialist. Opposite him at another workstation is a man with messy brown hair and a patterned sweater, gritting his teeth in annoyance as he stares at his computer screen; this is REZA FASSIHI, data analyst.

HAYLEY ROSE (ON SPEAKER) (singing): Sirens flickering in your tail lights, your long-lost love’s your only flaw...

REZA: Nikhil, can we please turn that off? This wasn’t a good song four years ago, and it’s still not good now!

NIKHIL: But that’s the point! Pop princess Hayley Rose experimenting with a contrived club album with a hokey country twist? “Outlaw” is incredible in its American awfulness.

REZA: How does that make any sense?!

As the music plays in the background while they continue, the third occupant of the room ignores their argument entirely. MIRASOL BAUTISTA, criminal profiler and psychoanalyst, sits at her own workstation, frowning at whatever she is reading on the screen. She wears a white blazer and has her dark hair tied back into a bun.

NIKHIL: ...it isn’t my fault your tastes are embarrassingly mainstream-

MIRASOL (muttering): The contrarian hipster act, clearly a false front meant to get on people’s nerves. Typically seen in those with low self-esteem and-

NIKHIL: Ouch. I heard that, Mirasol.

MIRASOL: Oh, I know.

The door swings open, and Sam and Dave enter. Sam blinks in surprise at the music. Dave doesn’t bat an eye as he strides up to Nikhil’s workstation and hits the power button.

DAVE (deadpan): Oops.

NIKHIL: Hey! Excuse me, Dave, we were listening to that-

REZA: Correction: you were listening to that.

NIKHIL: Mirasol secretly enjoyed it!

MIRASOL: Excuse me, what?! I will murder you, Nikhil.

REZA: She’s not kidding, Nikhil. You weren’t here for the time she brought a live grenade to work, but-

DAVE: Look, as entertaining as this conversation is, right now, we’ve got a killer to catch. And more importantly, we’ve got company.

Mirasol, Nikhil, and Reza all look up and notice Sam for the first time.

DAVE: This is Sam Massey, U.S. Marshal. Massey, meet the Three Stooges. That’s Reza, our data analyst and resident computer nerd.

REZA (frowning): “Nerd?” Excuse you, Dave, I’m a data analyst and digital security consultant and a moderator for the Crown and the Flame official fansite... Okay, I may be a ‘computer nerd.’

Sam nods, clearly not understanding most of what Reza is talking about.

SAM: ...Pleasure.

DAVE: Over there is Nikhil, forensic analyst and card-carrying hipster.

NIKHIL: Nice to meet you, Marshal. I have to say, this ‘thing’ you’re doing with your outfit? Talk about defying the mainstream L.A. look with your rough-and-tumble style. Such a middle finger to the masses.

Sam crosses her arms, frowning.

SAM: I’m not trying to do a “thing.”

NIKHIL: Exactly, right? Everyone else is always trying too hard. But you get it!

SAM: Uh...

Dave shakes his head in amusement before moving on.

DAVE: Anyway, the cheerful one over there is Dr. Bautista, our criminal profiler and psychoanalyst.

MIRASOL: Just call me Mirasol. These two clowns don’t go by fancy titles, why should I?

SAM: I can respect that.

DAVE: Right, well, that’s the introductions. So, what have you all got for us?

NIKHIL: Perfect timing, actually. I’ve just finished my initial run-through of the forensics. Don’t have much to work with, but I was able to analyze those bullet casings you found, plus the autopsies and ballistics.

SAM: Let’s hear what you’ve got. I’ve got a hunch I want confirmed.

They walk over to Nikhil’s workstation. Nikhil swivels in his chair to face them.

DAVE: How’s it look?

NIKHIL: The autopsy and ballistics reports indicate an abdominal wound from a sawed-off shotgun, fired from approximately three feet away. Casings confirm standard double-aught buckshot. (shakes head) Can’t have been pretty.

SAM: Point-blank, straight to the gut. Tull’s specialty, the sick bastard.

DAVE: Anything else?

NIKHIL: Well, I’ve got an educated guess on the type of shotgun he used. It’s hard to tell for sure, but from what we could get from the camera footage, I’d say an old-school Easton 850, sawed-off.

SAM: Wait. Did you say an Easton 850?

NIKHIL: Why, does that mean something to you?

Sam gets a faraway look in her eyes, staring at a point on the wall. She says nothing for a long moment. Finally, she shakes her head and turns away.

SAM: No. You just... don’t see those every day.

From her station, Mirasol watches Sam with a calculating look. Dave notices and walks over to her, Sam following.

DAVE: Dr. Bautista, what do we have?

MIRASOL: I’ve told you not to call me that.

DAVE (smirks): Why do you think I keep doing it?

Mirasol rolls her eyes and turns away from him, facing Sam.

MIRASOL: Beckham had your file sent over, Massey. Frequent physical altercations. Questionable use of force. Repeated altercations... fascinating stuff.

SAM: Alright, alright. Let’s cut to the chase. What have you got?

MIRASOL: Let’s see... Propensity for violence and hot-headedness, such as when you brought in a fugitive with multiple broken bones. Then the report of you telling a fugitive with hostages to, and I quote: “Grow a backbone, dirtbag.”

NIKHIL: Ooh, I want that on a shirt.

MIRASOL: And then there’s the raid on the New Flores Cartel, where the massive property damage perfectly showcases your flagrant disregard for-

SAM: Okay, okay, we get the idea! Lemme rephrase: what have you got on Tull?

MIRASOL: Oh, don’t worry. I’ve already put together his profile too, or at least a preliminary one from what little we know.

DAVE: Perfect. Let’s hear it.

MIRASOL: He’s a hired killer, but he’s brutal when he doesn’t need to be, even when it makes his job harder. Clearly enjoys inflicting pain. He’s clever but unstable, with textbook signs of egocentrism, obsessive behavior, and possible narcissism.

DAVE (sarcastically): This guy just gets better and better.

SAM: Anything else?

MIRASOL: Just that... look. I’m not easily disturbed; hell, I read the profiles of psychopaths for a living. Sometimes even for fun. But this guy... he scares me.

Sam nods in understanding.

SAM: Then we just gotta be scarier.

She turns away from Mirasol and heads over to Reza’s station, Dave following close behind. As she approaches, Reza springs awkwardly to his feet, accidentally knocking over his chair as he offers an excited handshake.

REZA: Wow, a Texas Marshal, surrounded by L.A. glitz and glamour! Love it! The fish-out-of-water thing is a classic trope in the industry, y’know.

Sam shakes his hand, looking puzzled.

SAM: The... data analysis industry?

REZA: What? No, the entertainment industry! I’m also an aspiring screenwriter, you know.

NIKHIL: Emphasis on the ‘aspiring’ part. He’s never actually finished a script.

REZA: Shut up, Nikhil! Anyway, my point is that I’m a bit of a film buff.

SAM: Huh. Sounds like that might come in handy in this town.

REZA: Yeah, I know, it’s not really... wait, what?

SAM: Hey, from what I’ve seen, Hollywood’s a special kind of crazy. Might help to have someone who speaks the language.

REZA: Ha! Boom! How’s that defeat taste, Nikhil? Someone actually appreciates me for once!

Nikhil groans and rolls his eyes as Reza picks his chair back up and sits down.

REZA: And speaking of ‘Hollywood’ and ‘crazy,’ by the way, I’ve pulled up some info on the main victim.

DAVE: Gavin? Could be a lead. But what about Tull?

REZA (frowning): Not much. From what I can tell, he surfaced suddenly about a year ago as a paid killer. Other than that, I could barely find anything.

SAM (frowning): What do you mean he ‘surfaced suddenly?’ Where the hell was he before that?

REZA: It’s the weirdest part of this whole thing. Far as I can tell, he emerged from thin air last year. His first kill happened in rural Montana, and before that... the guy just vanishes.

DAVE: Fake name, maybe?

REZA (shakes head): Nothing I can find. But I’ll keep looking. Gavin, on the other hand... with how much he’s posted about himself online, the guy practically did my job for me.

Reza swivels his monitor. Sam and Dave look at the screen, which is displaying a celebrity blog site titled “Dirty Hollywood.”

REZA: His personal blog is plenty already, but the real interesting part is this one. “Dirty Hollywood.” It’s a celeb gossip blog, and with the things he’s posted, he’s made quite a few enemies.

SAM: Could lead us to whoever hired Tull.

DAVE: Agreed. So, who’s on the list of Gavin’s potential enemies, then?

REZA: Honestly? Literally everyone he’s posted about. I can list all of them for you, but we’d be here all day-

DAVE: Give us the three most likely, then. Anything in the past week or so

REZA: Well, let’s see... he leaked some emails from screenwriter Josh Neely, exposing him as a plagiarist.

DAVE: Hold on. I spotted Neely on the tape, just before the murder. He was arguing pretty fiercely with Gavin!

Sam raises her eyebrows.

SAM: Damn. We’ve got our connection, then.

DAVE: Not so fast. Lots of celebrities were at that party, it doesn’t mean anything on its own. Reza, who else?

REZA: Gavin also posted evidence that Ryan Summers was making large, discreet payments to an unknown woman. Sure, Gavin never actually says she’s a call girl, but he sure as hell implies it.

DAVE: Huh. Ryan never mentioned that...

SAM: First-name basis with Ryan Summers? Really.

DAVE: Yeah, he’s a good friend of mine. We play poker on the weekends.

SAM: I’m not sure what’s harder to believe: that your poker face is that good, or that you’re actually telling the truth.

REZA: Anyway, the third suspect is pretty timely, considering Nikhil’s taste in music. Gavin leaked some of Hayley Rose’s, uh... illicit photos from her personal phone.

SAM: She’s the singer you were just listening to? How did Gavin get all this?

REZA: Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t legal.

Dave sighs, shaking his head in disgust.

DAVE: Typical. Thanks for the leads, though. Let us know if you can find any more on Tull, okay?

REZA: You got it.

Sam and Dave step toward the door, out of earshot of the analysts.

SAM: So what the hell does any of that tell us?

DAVE: I admit it’s not much to go on. What about the gun?

SAM: What about it?

DAVE: You seemed familiar with that specific model when Nikhil mentioned it. Do you know something?

SAM (muttering): Ugh. Of course. Goddamn detective.

Dave raises an eyebrow.

SAM: Nothing that would help the case. Look, Tull’s a killer for hire, right? So, first things first, we should look into the people he offended. Find out who hired him.

DAVE: That’s fair. It’s as good a place as any to start. Let’s go; I’ll drive.

SAM: Hope you drive fast. Every second we waste is another second Tull’s out there, a free man.

Sam heads for the door, but stops when she notices Dave hasn’t moved. He studies her, frowning.

SAM: ...What?

DAVE: Look. If we’re gonna be partners on this, I need you to level with me. Why are you really here?

SAM: It’s my job-

DAVE: Massey, I’m a detective. Half my job is knowing when someone’s lying. We do have Marshals in California, y’know. Something made you get on a plane and fly halfway across the country to nab Tull yourself. Something makes you look like you’re gonna punch a hole in the wall when you think about him.

Sam sighs in defeat.

SAM: Alright. Fine. It’s personal.

DAVE: There. Was that so hard?

SAM: Look. Tull killed someone close to me. I’d rather not say any more right now.

Dave nods and opens the door to head out of the lab.

DAVE: That’s fair. Listen, Massey: we’re gonna get this bastard. That much I can promise you.

SAM: Damn straight.

Next Scene: Good Cop, Bad Cop

CIU Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @endlesshero1122 @bbaba-yagaa @acidsugar0

MW Tag List: @griselda1121

#most wanted the hollywood killer #choices most wanted #choices stories you play #most wanted rewrite #ciu project #choices interconnected universe #fanfic #reza fassihi #nikhil mantha #mirasol bautista #sam massey #dave reyes #john tull #error 404: es references not found #but wow are these three fun to write

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