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never wanted something rational

Summary:

Stopping in the middle of heat to have an existential crisis is very typical for Dirk. Fortunately, Jake gets in the way.

Notes:

A little flufflet to get myself warmed up after a week too sick to write.

Work Text:

Dirk wakes up pressed to — an alpha, definitely, and kind of a huge one at that. For a fleeting semi-second he considers freaking out about it.

But this alpha has one hand buried in Dirk's hair, rubbing his scalp, and the other petting his back in broad motions. Dirk can't think of anything the guy could do to him that he wouldn't be okay trading for this.

The alpha kisses Dirk's temple. "Awake, are we?"

The events of the last three days do a charming speedrun before Dirk's run. Apparently he's an omega. Fuck. Apparently he found a hot alpha at the hospital and took him home. Double fuck.

Instead of answering, Dirk hides his face in Jake's chest. If he doesn't acknowledge reality, does that not mean that this reality, in some small way, isn't happening?

"How are you doing?" asks Jake, scritching Dirk some more.

"I've turned into the ravenous bugblatter beast of traal," Dirk says, muffled. "Or maybe an ostrich."

Jake chuckles and squeezes him. "You look rather more fetching than either of those."

"I mean, they don't call it the ugly bugblatter beast," Dirk says, mostly automatically. "It could be hot, dude, I'm not gonna judge. Half of Reddit would smash that."

"Incredible." Jake's scent is thick with — something positive, Dirk doesn't know. "Do you always go on these tangents?"

Dirk snorts. "You think that's a tangent? Better strap down because shit's about to get trigonometrical around here. I got vectors up the ass."

Jake's chuckles take on a suspiciously snigger-like tone. "I don't think that's what you have there, at the moment."

"A dick can be a vector," Dirk says, rubbing his cheek against Jake's shoulder and kissing it for good measure. "It's got a size and a direction, that makes it a vector according to high-school physics."

Jake breaks into out-and-out guffaws. "You," he says, "are something else."

Dirk nods. "As discussed: ostrich."

"No, I think I have first hand evidence you're a mammal," Jake says. He nuzzles Dirk's hair. "Quite an attractive specimen, even."

"Ooh, yeah, baby," Dirk says, deadpan. "Talk about me more like I'm a taxidermy subject, that really gets me going."

Jake sniffs him. "I bet that routine goes much better for you when the other person can't smell you genuinely mean it."

Well, fuck. Dirk rallies. "Taxidermy can be hot." Stand your ground. It's a really dumb hill to die on, but at least his body can be mounted for posterity.

"I'm glad we're in agreement," Jake says. His hips do a little shimmy, bringing it home that Dirk's body is already pretty mounted.

It's funny. For a minute, it escaped Dirk's attention how full he feels. Not only in the physical sense: it's like that gaping maw in his chest finally found prey to latch onto.

Jake stills. Voice gentle, he asks, "What's the matter, sweetheart?"

Dirk shakes his head, speechless, feels wet trails running down the side of his face. "Fuck, shit, I'm sorry—"

Jake only holds him close. "Nothing to be sorry for, darling. What do you need?"

There it is again. "What do I need?" Dirk's heart beats sharp and painful in his chest. "What about what you need?"

Jake stares at him a moment, perplexed. Just as Dirk is gearing up to really tear into himself — oh, he'd done it this time, now Jake is going to take his dick and go —

Then Jake sighs and aggressively snuggles him. "Hush," he says. "No, not another word out of you. You're just determined to spin everything in the worst light possible, aren't you?"

Dirk is pleading the fifth. He'd already spent some time pleading for filth, if he recalls correctly.

"Well, none of that," Jake says with cutting certainty. "I want to be here, I'm a grown man who can mind his own desires and needs. You," he punctuates this with a gentle thrust that has Dirk grunting in surprised pleasure, "will simply have to lie there and take it." He pets the hair back from Dirk's forehead. "Unless there's something I'm doing you don't like, in which case, speak up."

"You're not making any sense," Dirk mumbles as coherently as he can. Considering what Jake's cock is doing to him right now, coherence levels are pretty low.

Jake cups Dirk's cheek in one hand. "So what if I'm not? Are you enjoying yourself?"

Given the noise he just drove out of Dirk, it's hard to deny that he is.

"Then simply," thrust, "let yourself," thrust, "enjoy it — oh there we go," he says, with enormous satisfaction, as Dirk starts coming again. "Just like that, buttercup. Nothing easier."

It's as though reality itself wants to twist into ribbons to follow Jake's whims. Dirk can't blame it, he's the same. Because when Jake looks at him with those intense green eyes, it becomes possible to believe that it might, in fact, be that easy.

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