Silly goofy davesport oneshots book

11. A night to remember [smut]

When I tell you, I didn't intent for this to be smut for like, the whole first 200 words. Rare case.

First go at writing a trans character, yaaaay self projecting.

So I wasn't sure whether to publish this, mixed feelings about how it turned out and some decisions I made while either drunk or tired that I ended up hating. It's here anyway since it still took a while, you're not allowed to talk 'bout the shitty parts so stfu

Jack's room was merely lit by occasional flashes of light from under his closed curtains, thunder still loudly rumbling outside. Though, the orange man couldn't be bothered by any of it as he hummed soft songs to himself, stepping in the room. His hair was damp from the warm shower he took moments earlier, body still heated in contrast to the cold surroundings. 

He couldn't bring himself to flick the lights on, blindly scrounging through his closet in search for a shirt to sleep in. Quickly having found one, he pulled it over his head to join his boxers as he yawned in pure exhaustion.  

Letting himself fall face forward on his bed, he pulled the covers over his entire body to bury his face in the pillows that lay at his head end. His day had been so busy, reaching the point of exhaustion where he couldn't get himself to do anything but lay there and drift off to sleep. The repetitive ticking of rain on his window helped ease his mind, the bad weather functioning as white noise. 

Jack had drifted off to a deep sleep, barely even moving. That was, until he found himself to be in a fuzzy state in between being asleep and being awake. He couldn't be bothered to properly wake up, listening to the ticking rain as he turned to lay on his side. 

He was met with one of his pillows, instinctively wrapping his arm around it. Though it wasn't as soft as a pillow would be, Jack wasn't in a state of recognising this fact. He shifted his other arm to go underneath it, pushing it through despite the thing being oddly heavy. 

With both arms wrapped around the foreign thing, he pulled it closer towards him. It was only now he noticed he wasn't clinging on to a pillow, but a human being. His stomach was pressed against someone's back, his face nuzzled in to long, fluff-like hair. 

He could recognise the scent of this person anywhere, the gross mix of kid's blood and axe deodorant was all too familiar to his poor, poor nostrils. It'd been a sort of comfort to him after growing bonds and high amounts of time spent together. He wasn't alarmed by Dave's sudden presence, considering he was so used to the other's weird shenanigans. 

The warmth of Dave's body against his was a rather comforting feeling, pressing his entire self against the other as he tightened his grip around his waist. His shirt had presumably rolled up, considering Jack'd been able to feel the familiar structure of springlock scarring on his stomach. 

Huffs and the shifting of fabric were heard in reply, Dave's hand trailing down to lay on one of Jack's. He formed small circles on the orange man's hand, unsure whether he'd been awake or not. The small movements were the first thing that managed to somewhat awake Jack, who now grew aware of the situation. His face was buried in the crook of Dave's neck, muffled by the long hair as he spoke with a low morning voice:

"Didn't I tell you to stay out of my house...?"

Sarcasm poked through his sentence, voice barely loud enough to be heard throughout the rumbling of thunder. 

"Hmh- Many times actually, old sport. Most of the times ya screamed it at me~" 

Dave said, voice similarly low to the way Jack's was. He gained a chuckle in reply, nuzzling his face further in the other's hair. He wouldn't quickly admit it, but he savored the rare moments like these. The unique cases where they found a healthy way of closure within one another managed to poke through his usual posture.