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English
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Bulletproof 25/26
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Published:
2026-02-09
Words:
1,138
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
5
Kudos:
59
Bookmarks:
2
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446

every rhythm

Notes:

baby steps is a video game about overcoming enui and achieving your accomplishments and also about asking for help. it's also about nate's unrealized piss fetish and interest in men. and yes moose is a donkey man but he is a man and they have a heartwarming developing bond. whatever!!! enjoy.

Work Text:

“Hey, Nate, relax.”

“Uhh. Okay.” That was, obviously, impossible - but Nate had not yet learned how to argue with Moose, and they were currently positioned on the couch, Nate flat on the his stomach and Moose with his fingers lubed up and probing up Nate’s ass.

There had been some fingering, there had been a few blowjobs - Nate was not very good at them - but otherwise their time together in the cabin had been relatively chaste. They did a lot of kissing while watching TV, a lot of soft touching, a lot of snuggling after Moose made them tea in the evenings. Sometimes Nate came home tired from a walk and Moose would offer him a back massage or a leg rub and Nate tried to understand what he had done to earn any of this.

“You’re not relaxed,” Moose said, smoothing a hand down Nate’s back. “C’mon, man, it’s just me.”

Nate turned his face over so his left cheek was flat on the rough fabric of the tattered couch. He still couldn’t see Moose from this angle, just in his peripheral, but it made him feel physically closer to him, and that was all that he really was looking for anyway.

“Sorry,” Nate said.

Moose snorted. But he held back what he usually said - I don’t want you to apologize, just focus - because Nate simply had not yet worked past that bad habit. He clenched his fists and then paid very close attention to unclenching them, feeling his shoulders and back and legs relax as he breathed out.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Moose said gently, crooking his finger inside of Nate. Nate twitched. He still wasn’t used to the sensation, but it was good, and every time Moose did it he was nearly scared out of his body. He took another deep breath. “You’re doing really well.”

Nate mumbled something under his breath, some combination of, shut up and thanks that turned into garbled nothing, and closed his eyes as his cheeks got hot. He hated thinking of how his face looked like when he was flushed and out of breath, but Moose promised him over and over again that he loved it, that it was what he was trying to do, if only Nate would shut up and let him.

Moose was more intent now, rocking his fingers into Nate slowly and consistently, each thrust in dragging the tips of them against Nate’s prostate. Ugh. It always made him squirm when he thought about it, but he had to think about it, if they were going to keep doing this.

Nate continued to breathe, making sure it went through his nose one, two, three, four and then out five, six, seven, eight, and Moose kept stroking different parts of his naked body, the soft backs of his thighs which were just slightly ticklish, the warm small of his back, his spine, the curve of his ass.

“Oh, God,” Nate said out loud. He’d just let out a long breath, and with it, Moose had moved, squeezed more lube onto his hand to push another finger inside. It was intense in a way that Nate had never felt before, and it scared him for a moment.

“You’re not breathing,” Moose reminded him.

He took another deep breath, holding it in his lungs longer.

His body was shaky now, tiny little quivers down in his thighs and in the muscles of his calves. Exhaustion was battling against everything else. His dick had started to stiffen against the couch a while ago, and while he’d been expecting that eventually, he hadn’t really known it would happen for sure. Like, he just might not be into prostate stuff, right? Plenty of dudes weren’t.

The room was so quiet. All Nate could hear was his own breathing and the steady skin-on-skin. Moose had such soft hands. He was so gentle. He wasn’t stopping, wasn’t giving Nate any room to get used to the all-consuming sensation of three fingers, each somehow touching another part of Nate’s insides he hadn’t known existed.

There was a part of his mind that knew this was going to be too much. It teased him, telling him he wouldn’t be able to control it, wouldn’t be able to help himself. That was scary, but the fear was muffled by Moose’s voice, and the gentleness with which he guided himself. It’s okay, he kept saying. Maybe he knew what he was going to do, maybe it was intentional.

“Oh, God,” Nate said again.

If he was relaxed, if he was tense, he didn’t know. All he heard was Moose hushing him, rubbing his prostate with his fingers. Was he gonna cum like this? Could he even do that?

No, that wasn’t what was going to happen, and he knew that too. Moose pressed a palm against his back again, stabilizing him or maybe just trying to hold him still. Nate wasn’t sure if he was squirming, trying to get away, or what. He gasped and said “Oh, God, ohGodohGodohGod,” as if that meant anything. Moose just kept saying Shh shh shh but Nate’s voice just got louder, until he was shouting, until he was sure his voice could be heard from anyone outside. There was no one who was ever outside, but if there was, they would be able to hear him and OH GOD.

“Yes,” Moose said, and even that one word was spiked with such a high sense of satisfaction that the warmth of Nate’s release - it was piss, he knew it would be piss, had he really let his bladder get that full or was he just losing control, was it just a little bit or was it a lot? - was almost overwhelmed by the mental warmth of hearing Moose so pleased with himself.

It felt like it went on forever, soaking the couch and dripping onto the floor. Moose’s fingers were still pressed up inside of him, firm against his prostate. Nate wasn’t even sure if this was possible. Maybe he was just having a really good dream?

Eventually he was forced to open his eyes by the reality he was actually in, which was one where he was now in his own piss on their couch.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, humiliation sinking into the pit of his stomach.

“My God, Nate, shut up. That was on purpose."

“Your couch,” Nate protested.

“Our couch,” Moose said. He slowly removed his fingers. “S’alright. I know how to clean it up.”

Nate didn’t bother asking how.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he said, sitting up slowly.

Somehow it didn’t feel like the end of the world.

“Can I join you?” Moose said.

Nate giggled, uncontrollably, looking at Moose’s cock, erect between his legs.

“Y-yeah,” he said, and decided not to worry about the rest of it.