Chapter Text
Weeks have passed by now, and Dick has somewhat adjusted to the entity that had chosen his home to reside in.
One thing he understands is that It has no intention to hurt him.
Dick is loath to admit it to himself, but some part of him takes comfort in the familiarity of Its presence; the knowledge that It would always be there, waiting for him.
The way It interacts with his Shine is particular, and he’s never felt anything like it. It’s like an electric current runs through them both–one which they can occasionally tug on like a wire run taut, and let it vibrate between them. This connection draws him to It, whether he wants it to or not.
Despite these complex feelings, or perhaps in lieu of them, Dick intentionally tries to keep up a wall to It. A wall to anything, really, he feels he can't process.
Regardless, It persistently pushes his boundaries, testing the limits of what he will allow. He has to remind himself at times what, exactly, it is that he is cohabitating with. And of what this creature is truly capable.
It reminds him in brief moments. Something he has done will cause a flash of anger to flare within It, and Dick will feel an oppressive sensation settle over him through his Shine, and Its eyes will glint in warning. At any moment, if It decided It wanted to, It could kill him.
But It doesn't. It hasn't. He's not sure It will. It restrains Itself around him.
Dick is not surprised to see Pennywise there tonight, though he hoped that by some turn of fate It would have chosen now to leave him alone.
He grips the doorknob to his bedroom tighter in his fist when their eyes meet, gold to dark brown. A flush paints his face and he tries to fight it, biting the inside of his cheek as he ducks his gaze.
Why tonight? Why did It have to be here right now?
The room is mostly dark, save for a soft ambient glow from the streetlight outside. The clown is standing on the opposite side of the door by the window, beside his old dresser. The bed sits between them, sheets arranged neatly from when he had made it this morning.
He quickly makes for it, shrugging off his cardigan and not looking up at the clown as he sits on the edge of the bed with a soft exhale.
“You were gone for a long time, Dickie,” Pennywise says, its lilting voice cutting through the nighttime silence.
“Oh really? Felt like the usual amount of time to me,” he says dismissively, continuing to fight the flush that is now creeping up to his ears. He slips his shoes off and places them on the wooden floor right by the edge of the bed.
He feels like It will know, and he feels wrong for it even though he shouldn't, and it's not as if It knowing matters at all.
He tenses as It approaches, rounding the bed to stand in front of him and lean down.
It inhales slowly.
“Something is different,” It says, “you smell different.”
Its voice is lowered, and he leans back as he hesitantly looks up at It and makes eye contact again. Pennywise has an intent expression on Its face, interest clearly piqued, like a cat watching a bird flit around.
Dick shrugs in what is attempting to come off as nonchalant, saying, “Dunno why that would be. Now get out of my space, would you?”
It tilts its head like a dog, eyes inquisitive.
He hates that some part of him finds the action slightly endearing. But he says nothing further. The truth is uneventful, anyway. For the first time in probably a year, he had found himself in someone else’s bed. It hadn't been planned, just how the night progressed. An old military friend had been in town and they had run into one another, and they spent some time reminiscing and talking together. At one point he had invited Dick back to his hotel, and, well… It evolved from there. Dick had been desperate to feel any kind of connection like that with someone, but once he had it, it lacked something. He wasn't sure what it was, just that in the moment he felt distracted and distant.
He left feeling like he had made a mistake, and just wanted to go to bed.
Now Pennywise is staring at him with intensity, and it’s like his shame is being held up on a projector.
“You smell like someone else,” It says finally, and this time there’s a tinge of disgust in Its words.
“I can interact with other people,” he says defensively.
“This is different.”
It leans closer again, enough so that It has to place a gloved hand on the bed beside him to steady Its weight as Its breath flits along the skin of his throat. He swallows thickly and leans back even more, though he’s reaching the limit of how far he can go before he’ll fall on his back.
It presses forward anyway, and rubs Itself against him, Its face burying into the crook of his neck. This isn't necessarily unusual behavior for It. It's surprisingly tactile with him, and at some point he just started accepting the random licking, nipping, touching, and sniffing It would bestow on him from time to time.
He does fall back once he’s unable to support himself when Pennywise’s weight presses against him. It hardly acknowledges the motion, keeping Its face in his shoulder as It climbs over him to sit in his lap.
His hands come up to Its shoulders, pushing It back to look at It and get It out of his neck.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.
“Fixing your smell,” It says as It ducks down again to continue what It started. Dick is unsure what to make of that.
The way It’s moving in his lap as It presses Its body against his causes a familiar sensation to spark in his lower abdomen and he quickly pushes It back again.
This time It snarls in frustration.
“You can't do that,” he says, voice hitching slightly.
It blinks at him when he feels a gentle prod in his mind as It probes at his Shine.
At first he accepts the intrusion as a tingle goes through him at the feeling, before quickly coming to his senses and blocking his mind off from It.
This, however, was enough information for Pennywise as a grin spreads across Its red lips.
“Oh,” It says in faux realization, placing a hand on his chest. “Is that what you were doing?”
“Not that it should be any of your concern what I do in my own time.”
It doesn't pay his words any mind, instead curiously letting Its gaze trail downwards along his body.
“I see…” It mutters, and it seems to be more to Itself than to him.
Then he feels the weight of It adjust on his lap, pressing downwards.
A small noise escapes him as another spark of pleasure shoots through him and his hand drops down to hold Its thigh.
“Penn… You should get off me,” he says slowly.
Its pupils seem to grow slightly at the nickname, and It does the motion again.
And again.
Dick groans, letting his head drop back and squeezing his eyes shut.
He doesn't know what he’s doing right now, not sure how they got here, but a part of him that he usually tries to silence and bury is demanding his attention. The part of him that wants It. Badly.
Why? This creature of all things? He can't begin to answer those questions but his body is reacting much more honestly than his mind.
He feels Its presence in his head again, dancing along the edge of his Shine, leaving ghost sensations like static shocks that ignite through him as Its lights burn cold against his Shine. He's learned, at some point in Its time alongside Dick, the shape and form of Its psychic presence—perhaps more real than Its physical one. Three searing lights, orbiting one another like planets.
Their power is distinct and overwhelming, and when they play against his Shine it becomes encompassing.
It drags those lights along his Shine and it feels like It scrapes the inside of his mind. Like scratching an itch in an impossible to reach location. Another noise is pulled from him and he grips Its thighs harder in embarrassment.
Beneath It, he feels himself growing hard, the pleasure building in his stomach growing harder to ignore.
As It grinds against him, Its lights continue to move against his Shine, each one placing a burning pressure that makes his pulse race and his body hum with a tense energy. It's as if he can feel It, Its being, the space It takes up pooling in his consciousness and he’s sure every feeling he has is being projected though his Shine into that pool without inhibition.
In return, It seems to be slightly flustered Itself, though to a significantly lesser degree. Its eyes are staring with heavily dilated pupils, though other than that it would be hard to tell externally It’s being affected at all. But he can feel the effects he’s having, the insistent tug at his Shine brimming with a curiosity and a want for more.
He can't seem to bring himself to care enough, at this point, that what he's doing is objectively insane.
“I can show you,” he says softly, “What I did tonight.”
He pulls It down by the frills of Its ruffled collar until Its nose almost brushes his own. The face of a predator, inches away from Its very bold prey. Its wide eyes glint with interest.
He closes the distance.
It doesn't seem to know what to do, still against his lips so he traces a tongue along the seam of Its mouth and It opens obediently, responding to his prompting. He licks inside and Its tongue quickly responds in turn, licking back then pressing into his own mouth hungrily.
The movements are clumsy and It is clearly operating outside of Its wheelhouse, but as It licks sloppily into his mouth he cant help but thrill at the feeling.
His hands curiously explore the silky clown suit, feeling the lace and the ruffles, and allowing himself to feel the form of Its chosen body at least just in this moment.
How long has he wanted to do this? How long has he been shoving down this attraction to It? Most importantly, how much careful compartmentalizing is he undoing right now? His thoughts dissolve quickly as It continues to move Its hips against him, and adjacently continues to encircle his psyche like a boa.
He pushes Pennywise off him again when he needs to breathe, sucking in air quickly before It clamps down on his neck instead, buck teeth piercing the skin.
Dick gasps sharply, wincing away from the pain as It laps at the small amount of blood that pools there.
It purrs, and through his Shine he feels Its hunger radiate. It mixes harmoniously with lust and arousal and Dick almost feels intoxicated.
His pants are practically painful at this point and he reaches under Pennywise to undo them and kick them off, freeing his member.
He wraps his fist around it and sighs at the feeling of his warm hand providing much needed contact.
It pauses what It’s doing at his neck to look down, interested.
Carefully, he takes one of Pennywise’s gloved hands and guides it to join his own, and It grips him in a mimicry of his own previous action.
He hums at the feeling of the glove material against his hot skin, and a droplet slides down the length of it as if in response, wetting the silk.
He guides It’s hand up and down, gripping it gently to prompt It to tighten Its fist. More precum dribbles from the tip, slicking the motion.
Curiously, It stops what It’s doing and lifts the hand that was on him to Its mouth. Its tongue unfolds from behind Its lips and licks the sticky substance off Its fingers.
Dick swears in that moment his face goes crimson, the burn he feels spreading from his ears down to his chest.
“Oh…” he says stupidly.
It returns a hand to his cock with a vested interest, closing Its large fist around it and stroking in a way that seems experimental. It twists Its wrist, then drags a thumb from base to tip, smearing precum over it.
Dick is breathless, moaning softly and biting his lip to keep himself from getting too loud.
“The way humans do it,” It starts, and Dick has to pull himself out of a blissful daze to actually pay attention to Its words; “It goes inside.”
“Uhm-” Dick struggles to pull his thoughts into coherence. “Yes- yeah.”
Realization hits him like a bus.
“Oh—But not that- we don't have to, right now.” God. If he could just get a single normal sentence out but Its hand is still gripping his cock and It's so casually suggesting they fuck, like, now.
“But you want to,” It says, a smile playing at the corner of Its mouth.
“What?”
It squeezes Its hand and he stifles a groan, eyes fluttering closed.
“I can tell.”
Dick tries for a moment to summon an ounce of strength to sever the mental connection that is currently flowing between them like a flooded canal, but in his state it's increasingly difficult. It clearly feels him prodding at the lights and It hisses.
“Don't try and break it now, Dickie,” It growls, “You won't be able to.”
“Stop digging around in my head,” he says weakly.
“I’m not. You're projecting, remember?” It sneers.
He rubs a frustrated hand across his heated face as It cackles at his self-imposed predicament.
“Get over here,” he grunts, and yanks It forward by the front of Its silken suit to crush their lips together.
He’s already in too deep, he might as well reap the benefits before facing the consequences.
He feels Its satisfied purring as they kiss. His arms quickly wrap around Its neck to pull It closer, as he grinds up into It and sighs into Its mouth.
The weight of It on top of him sends a chill of excitement through him.
He wants to feel It push him down; cover his body with Its own.
One of his hands digs desperate fingers into the thick of Its ginger hair, the other clawing at Its back.
Pennywise, noting the shift in behavior, responds in kind; climbing fully onto the bed and settling now between Dick’s legs, his thighs resting atop Its own.
The position makes Dick feel incredibly vulnerable as It leaning forwards causes his legs to spread to accommodate Its size.
He breaks the kiss to glance down at Its waist, and notices movement. Slowly, a black, tentacle-like appendage emerges from Its groin, slick with a substance that drips onto his stomach.
He jumps at the sudden wetness, eyes widening at the sight of it. He thinks his face might go pale.
If any part of himself was trying to convince him It’s close to human, it’s vanquished quite firmly by this.
He once again experiences a flash of deep questioning at his life’s choices leading him here, only for the answer to be painfully obvious. Because as the tentacle-like appendage slides wetly along his cock he drops his head back into the bed, a soft moan slipping from his lips, and he knows he’s right where he wants to be.
The tentacle slides lower and Dick bites his lip, a shiver running through him. Only then does he notice: the bastard switched their positions.
It grins down at him like It’s reading all his thoughts like a playbook—and It very well might be—before Its appendage presses into him.
Oh.
That’s-
A clawed hand digs into his hip and lifts him by the waist for ease of access. It slips deeper and an embarrassing sound is pulled from him as he squeezes reflexively around it.
Immediately pleasure pools in his lower stomach as It fills him, and the sensation of it inside him is dizzying.
“Oh, god,” he mutters into the darkness of his bedroom.
His Shine flares in response to his heightened emotions, and Pennywise’s purring deepens like the hum of a motor.
Dick feels helplessly close to finishing when they've hardly started as the thread between them hums with the energy of both of their heightened states. Arousal blends with hunger and fascination, then flows between them until Its emotions are almost indistinguishable from his own.
The cold burn of the lights against his Shine causes him to feel like electric currents are running along his skin.
“Hold on,” he says breathlessly, clawing weakly at Its shoulder.
Pennywise makes a quiet noise as Dick pulls himself off It while It stills Itself.
“We’re gonna have to do this differently.” It may have swapped their positions, but there is no way in Hell he's just going to let this thing do whatever to him. Surely he can grasp a bit of control of the situation.
He scoots himself further up the bed and tugs Pennywise along by Its ruffled collar again, directing It between his legs.
“Okay,” he says, “Now sit back.”
It acts with surprising obedience and sits upright on the bed, setting Its hands a bit behind Itself so It can lean back onto them.
“Right, good,” Dick mutters, vaguely distracted by the sight of It sitting there for him, legs spread and tentacle-dick curling in the air expectantly. Its yellow eyes are watching him, waiting, wide and earnest.
He exhales slowly through his nostrils, willing himself to stay strong and last longer than a couple minutes, then climbs over onto Its lap.