And so I am lonely

[themostempty]

There can be a quiet period after sex. A relaxed kind of lull that's easy to exist in, even for someone like Dirk. Relatively, anyway. His mind doesn't stop--the layers and contrivances that turn inside him like an endless mechanica are an endless process, and so even this peace is tentative. Fragile, and short lived. But it's still a state of relief. His body feels better. His brain is calmer. When he actually cums, that is. Which, Ranboo has been incredibly cooperative about--sometimes the guy takes some talking through some concepts, but he's eager and earnest and he's bigger than Dirk in a few key dimensions that make his difficult traits tolerable, if not outright endearing.

He has, however, noticed that he's always the one making demands, prompting and cueing Ranboo through certain motions. Which is partly what Dirk means when he regards Ranboo as difficult and/or endearing. It's nice, in a way, to have a willing partner who does what he wants. It's also... odd.

They're curled up against each other; Dirk has taken the liberty of resting his head against Ranboo's bountiful pectorals, feeling the warmth of the man's skin against his ear and face, the rhythm of his breathing and even his pulse just underneath Dirk's own. He's slightly sticky with sweat (it's mostly sweat, anyway) but that's kind of a plus, to Dirk. It's... real. Comfortingly so. He can better feel himself against Ranboo this way.

"Fuck, man. Every time we do this, it's like.... I want to say it gets even better, but I actually don't know. Not--because of you. Or kind of because of you. Are you into this? What are you into? You never say anything about that--you never ask me to do anything specific. Which doesn't seem to be stopping you from putting your hot load in me every time. Sometimes repeatedly. Which feels fantastic, for the record."

Comments

[generationlost]

The response takes far too long to arrive. While it wasn't nearly as long as it might have felt to Dirk, the delay was just long enough to register as unusual to Ranboo. They quirk an eyebrow at him-- not out of mockery or condescension, but concern and genuine confusion.

"Are you... sure about that?" When he speaks, his voice is slow, soft-- feathered in a way that they don't often let themselves speak around Dirk, since they figure he'd probably just tease them for it. It's an utterly gentle tone, warm at its core.

Dirk is difficult to read. The way he expresses himself and views the world is so utterly alien to Ranboo that trying to follow or make sense of his emotions is generally a fool's errand-- trying to predict how Dirk might respond to something is borderline impossible until you've spent as long around him as Ranboo now has. They still don't quite guess correctly sometimes. Now is no different; Ranboo can tell that he's thinking, can see the gears working behind his vibrant eyes, but they won't even pretend to have any idea what about. Hopefully it isn't how annoying they're being right now.

[themostempty]

It's too late to take it back. He curses himself, on some level. He really shouldn't have admitted--but then, what else was he going to do? He should have lied, is what. Even though he's certain now, he hasn't had time to actually examine the reality he's unlocked yet. He doesn't know what it means that it's true, he doesn't know what he plans to do with that information or how it fits in, and some visceral sense tells him he doesn't want to. His sense, intuitive and deep, is that knowing this about himself will change things. Change him. That's not necessarily a good thing. It can't be a good thing--one way or another, it's going to make him worse. If it doesn't make him a bigger monster, it makes him a weaker person. He can't have either one, can only just stomach the first and he can't allow the other at all. He can't un-know this. Why did he let Ranboo--no, why did he let himself let Ranboo draw him in like that? What kind of idiotic, horrible impulse was that?

And just to make this all the more childish and stupid, his brain interjects an added note: his stomach hurts.

He lets his breath out all in one heavy gust.

"Yes? Why does this matter to you so much? Is this your new fetish? Did you figure something out? I said yeah, I'm not going to say no afterwards. Yeah. That's my final answer. Take it or leave it." His jaw presses back, his brain still working behind it all. Pushes him, churning through the waters of deeper thought while the rest of him forms a new wall against the world.

[generationlost]

Well. At least Dirk definitely seems like himself again now, for better or worse. Ranboo gives Dirk a bewildered look at the outburst, but the edge of his mouth is touched by a smile.

"I was just... wondering if it helped, dude. Jesus." They heave a deep sigh, settling in to get comfortable there with Dirk; it's only a little bit of a delaying tactic, or an attempt to play off the intimacy of what just happened, at least outwardly.

It's pretty immediately betrayed by Ranboo murmuring, turned to gaze at the ceiling, "I just. It's like... if it's helping you, then that's... good."

It's a very simple statement, but so much meaning is hidden behind it. If Dirk is being helped, then it's okay to continue. Ranboo isn't making things any worse by doing what Dirk asks of them, right? So they can relax and enjoy it, too, knowing that Dirk is okay. Well, as okay as he ever is or can be, considering...

[themostempty]

"Remember what I said about not making this weird?" Dirk's reply is half a grumble; he's pressing the side of his face into his pillow now. He doesn't actually try to get up, though. Heat rises in his chest, intense enough to be almost a burning. He doesn't know what that that means. He has a lot of... a lot of thinking to do, and he's not sure he appreciates that. But he's just so tired right now--so ready to simply dissolve into the bed and into Ranboo--that, frankly, it's a problem for a future man.

As, it becomes increasingly likely, will be cleaning up himself or the bed.