inb4shittygayfanfiction

"No, actually. I flew to Egypt to free one of the Thirteen Treasures of the British Isle from some crazy priest who was trying to summon a space robot to rule the world. I crawled through cursed temple ruins in the dark. I got shot at. I shot at other people. I honestly think I might have killed some bad guys. I almost got face raped by a robot mummy. I've lost count of many scars I have - like, literally, I swear the number always changes. So I kind of don't want to hear about the Magical Adventures of Dermott in Make Believe Badass Land."

"…Dude, what the fuck?" Dermott was staring at hip, mouth agape. Hank just shrugged.

"That's my life, dude. The real deal. You talk a really big talk, but I walk the walk. So I'm sort of sick of your bullshit."

It was quiet for a minute. They were just hanging out in the rec room, Hank flopped down on the couch and Dermott slouched in a chair across the room. Hank sighed and rolled over, grabbing one of the dozens of old magazines stored down there.

"It's not all bullshit."

Down went the magazine. Hank was actually surprised that Dermott had responded reasonably. He'd expected a huff and maybe an argument, but definitely Dermott storming out.

"So why don't you tell me something that's not, dude. We're friends. I'm not gonna stop being your friend just because you're not a super ninja pirate assassin spy or whatever. You were like…the first friend I ever had. And you're kind of still the only friend I have, that's not super crazy or bizarro. And I like that about you." Hank figured if he was urging Dermott to be honest and maybe open up or whatever, he could to.

"Don't get all gay on me. I seriously could kick your ass. No lie."

"Okay. Let's go." Hank swung his legs over the side of the couch and bounded to his feet. He wasn't afraid to have a little one on one match with Dermott. He'd seen Dermott fight. Hell, he'd seen Dermott get his ass kicked by Dean. And Hank knew how to handle himself in a dojo. More or less.

Better than Dermott.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Yeah. Come on, let's see." If this was what it took for Dermott to stop being such an ass, so be it. Hank flexed his shoulders and dropped into a ready stance.

"Okay. Fine. But don't blame me if you're eating out of a straw for a month."

Hank just shook his head and waited. Dermott came at him, clumsily. It was easy for Hank to duck and shoot a light kick to Dermott's side. He had already moved away by the time Dermott swung around for another attack.

"Fuck you're fast," Dermott mumbled, before barreling in low. Hank bounced from foot to foot and this time met Dermott's charge, bracing himself against the bigger boy. And then flinging him over his shoulder. Hank was down on top of Dermott in moments, pinning him.

"Who's kicking who's ass now?" Hank asked, grinning. Dermott squirmed under him, bucking his hips and twisting his legs.

"Screw you!"

"Admit it!" Hank leaned down, pressing his forearm against Dermott's throat. "Admit you can't kick my ass. Admit you can't fight!"

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"You!" Hank was breathing heavily, angry all of a sudden. "You and your constant crazy ass super lying! I know you're fucked up, whatever! So am I! Just stop being a huge douche! I don't even get why you do it? What is so damn wrong with you that you have to run around claiming you're Indiana Jones, James Bond and Batman rolled into one? Why are you such a fucking…." Hank trailed off. Dermott wasn't squirming under him anymore. Dermott wasn't moving at all. Which was, Hank realized, probably a good thing.

"Dude?"

"Uh. Yeah?"

"Do you…do you have a boner right now?"

Dermott didn't answer, but he didn't have to. He turned his face away, turning red. And even if it weren't for that…Hank was on top of him. Hank hadn't actually needed to ask. But when you're wrestling around with your best dude friend and all of a sudden there was a hard on between you, you had to say something.

"Would you fucking get off me?" Dermott still wasn't looking at him. Hank decided to nix the 'hey, it happens in contact sports!' speech Brock had once given him years ago. A million thoughts suddenly exploded in Hank's head, some of them too mature and complex for him to fully comprehend. Dermott's bullshit. Dermott's constant talking about how many girls he'd had sex with. Dermott's insistence that he was the baddest bad ass that ever lived. Dermott's very obvious erection.

Oh boy.

Hank made some quick decisions then and there. 1) He didn't care. Either Dermott liked dudes in general, or Dermott liked him. And or. Whatever. Either way, he didn't care. Even if Dermott did like him…well, so what? That was pretty flattering, wasn't it? And Dermott was pretty big about only being into things that were awesome, so clearly that just made Hank awesome. 2) He probably ought to be more freaked out by the fact that he'd been laying on top of his best friend's erection for like five minutes. The first one, at least, he could do something about.

"You know…you totally could have just told me you were gay. And if this is some passive aggressive tactic to get in my pants, I like Batman memorabilia and Milano cookies." Hank sat up, not getting off of Dermott entirely but at least breaking the connection that had led to this whole mess.

"I'm not gay."

"Wow. You do not give up. You started dry humping me while we were sparring. Which I'm not mad about or anything. I mean, if you think I'd have some problem or something…. I know my dad's an ass, but I have gay friends."

"Would you stop saying that I'm gay?" Dermott sighed, but at least he was looking at Hank again. He propped himself up on his elbows. "Can we just forget this happened?"

"Are you still gonna be Mr. Super Jerk?"

"What happened to us being friends?" Dermott actually sounded hurt. Hank sighed.

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NONO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NONO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NONO NO NO NO NO NO NONO NO NO NO NO NO NO

F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5FF5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5FF5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

This is really gay. like really super gay.

See pic for proper gayitude readings.

FOR ALL THAT'S GOOD AND HOLY NO!!!

"We are friends. Which is why I wish you'd just stop this shit and be honest with me. And besides, it makes total sense if you're gay. Be out and proud, my friend! I support you!"

That rather derailed the conversation. Hank blinked, realizing suddenly that there was a chance that someone in the world actually looked at him as a sexual person. Dermott just sputtered, turning red again. And possibly protesting, Hank didn't fully understand what was being said.

"You are so fucked up in the head." Dermott shook his head, but he didn't seem so angry. "I just don't want to make a big deal out of this. It's not."

"You sure? I mean…is it me?"

"What?"

"You. And the…you know. Was it just because, or…because of me?"


"Are you asking me if I have a thing for you?"

Hank shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. If you do, it's fine."

"Do you even hear yourself?" Dermott was laughing now. "You're just totally cool with the idea of your guy friend wanting to do you?"

"You want to do me?"

>>14311148
Please stop constantly spamming and harassing www.ａｎｏｎｔａｌｋ.com. Thank you.

"I'm gonna take that as a 'yes'." Hank laughed and Dermott sputtered and started turning a really interesting shade of crimson. So, that was that. Hank wasn't sure what he was thinking. Just that he was relieved, and this was nice. Well, Dermott being honest, kind of, was nice. Hank leaned down, pinning Dermott again.

"What the hell?"

"What?" Hank was on his hands and knees, Dermott under him. It was kind of exciting. Dermott was looking confused and nervous. Hank was in control for once. He was confident and calm and totally in control. This had to be what it felt like to be a hot woman.

"You're…what are you doing?"

"What do you think?" Hank wet his lips before moving in. His heart was beating fast and he mashed his lips against Dermott's. Now Dermott was completely silent. Hank would have grinned if his mouth wasn't so busy discovering kissing. And kissing was fun. Sort of. Dermott wasn't really doing anything. Other than lying there with a hard on, apparently. Hank opened his mouth wide, his tongue pressing against Dermott's lips and teeth. And then Dermott opened his mouth and started kissing him back. Now the kissing was fun. A whole lot of fun. Hank drew his legs up so he was hunched over Dermott's hips, leaning down over him. The larger boy's hands were on Hank's hips, holding him. And now that they were kissing and touching like this, Hank felt his own pants begin to tighten in response. Dermott's tongue was sliding along his and Dermott's hands were under his jacket, shoving it off. Kissing was wet and messy, but it was good wet and messy.

>>14311145
Please stop constantly spamming and harassing www.ａｎｏｎｔａｌｋ.com. Thank you.

This was totally not how Hank had expected things to go. At all. How had they gone from arguing about fighting to sucking each others faces on the rec room floor? Oh well, he wasn't going to complain. Not when Dermott's hands had found his bare skin, just above the waistband of his jeans. Not when Dermott was licking his neck like that, right where the pulse beat under the skin. Not when Dermott was sitting up and pulling Hank flush against him and Hank wrenched his head up to kiss him again and….

The door opened. They both heard it, Hank could tell. Dermott froze in the same instant he did, Hank's bottom lip held between his teeth, hands working Hank's sweater up his torso. Panic set in, neither one thinking to jump away, only fearing discovery.

"Hank? Have you seen…..ACK!"

Time seemed to stand still. Dermott swallowed and Hank's lip finally fell back into place. Dean stood in the doorway, eyes wide and horrified, mouth agape like a fish. Hank stared at his brother with a terrified expression.

why am i still reading this peice of relatively interesting writing

"Um…um…um…" Time flew into motion.

"I didn't see it!" Dean's hand came up to his eyes and he recoiled. Dermott shoved Hank out of his lap and scooted back, glaring at the doorway. Hank adjusted his shirt and tried not to look too debauched.

"Dean…."

"I didn't see it! I didn't see anything! This room is empty! Hank, Hank, where are you?" The door shut quickly, slamming and reverberating in its frame. They could hear Dean running back the hall and up the stairs.

Dermott and Hank exchanged a look. That was Dean. Hank figured he'd have a little talk with him later. Or tomorrow. Or whenever Dean could look him in the eye again. Whatever.

"Do we need to kill your brother?"

"Nah." Hank ran his hands through his hair, settling back into place. "And at least we know he's not gonna be back." He grinned and turned back to Dermott, drawing up one leg and resting his arm on his knee. "So. You gonna fees up that you can't kick my ass, or do I need to pin you again?"

>>14311147
Please stop constantly spamming and harassing www.ａｎｏｎｔａｌｋ.com. Thank you.

>>14311981
That's pretty much my reaction to this

Henchman 21 let out a sigh as he took the top of his butterfly uniform off. He had built a pretty good sweat this time around, but he was still the undefeated king of simulation battles, even within the Monarch's elite goons.

“Ready to hit the showers, uh, henchman?” 21 was surprised to discover he was not alone in the cocoon's locker room. His mind wandered off for a moment looking at the hooked nose and long curled eyebrows, stopping at the towel wrapped around the washboard abs before he could recognize The Monarch to return the greeting.

“Good evening, Monarch, sir!” His own towel fell off from his waist as he raised his hand to perform the appropriate salute. The supervillain let out a heartily laugh as he eyed 21 up and down, who was keeping his posture the whole time, seemingly unconcerned about his nakedness. The Monarch finally patted him on the shoulder and continued on his way, still laughing.

“What a nice guy,” 21 said to no one in particular, as he stopped at the shower he always used.

---------------------

21 was almost done, happily enjoying the feeling of hot water against his body, still tired from his previous workout. Suddenly, he felt a strong grip on his sore arms. “What’s up, 21?” He recognized The Monarch’s voice from behind him.

>>14312130
“Sir? What-“ he tried to turn around, but his grip was just too strong. “Cut it out, dickwad!” The Monarch’s strong commanding silenced him. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what’s happening!”

“Umm...no, sir...listen, maybe you got the wrong idea, but-”

“THE WRONG IDEA!?” His superior officer leaned in to roar in his ear, and 21 felt a big, hard shape against his ass. Was that The Monarch’s dick? It was like a baseball!

“You prance around showing off that hot ass of yours, and when one tries to give you exactly what you’re asking for, you act all prudish!” 21 had already given up on trying to break free from the supervillain’s firm grip.

“I just really like prancing!” he explained desperately.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t there was a camera in here!” The Monarch's powerful arms turned 21 around, making him look up at a corner. For the first time, 21 noticed a hidden camera lens on the ceiling, pointing directly at his shower of choice.

“Don’t try to deny it, you just love showing off your stuff! Tell me you weren’t begging for prick when you flashed me just minutes ago, you cocksucker! Yeah, Mrs. The Monarch my balls! Since you joined the Guild your ass has been hungry for a Monarch dicking, and that’s just what I’m gonna give to it!”

oh... oh god... my brain is dying...


MOAR?

>>14312144
His grip on him suddenly changed from 21’s arms to his hips, lifting him off the ground. 21 flailed his arms around desperately, trying to break free to no avail. How did The Monarch ever get so strong? He felt the thick cock against his lower back, and with a sudden motion the villain jammed the head up his ass, slamming 21’s face against the wall and muffling his shriek of pain.

For what seemed like hours, 21 was ridden by The Monarch, crying out for help to no avail. He finally gave up, and the only sound that could be heard was the supervillain’s pounding motion and his demeaning insults. Finally, he felt The Monarch’s tool in his rectum swell up and explode. He heard him grunt with pleasure. “You know why they call you ‘General’? Generally great ass, that’s why.”

The costumed villain let his man cream come out on 21’s ass for a while, before pulling out and turning him over, finally allowing him to see his face. He was red from the effort and lust. “Swallow, bitch,” he ordered simply as he directed his white gob shooter at his face. 21 was too tired and humiliated to fight back, so he just complied.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, cunt” The Monarch said, finally done emptying his release. “See that camera over there?” 21 noticed a remote control on The Monarch’s hand as he pointed up. “It’s been broadcasting to all the Cocoon's monitors since the start of our little ordeal.” A look of terror appeared on 21’s face. “I’d love to see what your beloved henchmen think of your performance.” The villain smiled in a wide grin.

I HAVE NO JPG FOR THE RAGE I'M FEELING. IT"S SOMEWHERE BETWEEN TEARS OF ANGER AND TEARS FROM NASEA.

>>14312161
“Open up,” he ordered, as his strong arms lifted 21 by the shoulders and pinned him against the wall. Leaning his hips upwards, he started to pee, his still semi-erect dick delivering a glorious golden shower on the ace henchman's body. He let go of one shoulder and used his free hand to direct his yellow stream against the young goon’s face.

With his tool finally empty, The Monarch unceremoniously dropped 21 on the floor and left. Lying face down, water falling down on his ravished ass, still hearing the brunette’s jovial laugh, 21 turned his face up towards the camera. “24...” he cried out, as a single tear streamed down his face.

this is some homo gay shit

and i am enjoying it

>>14312170
>This entire thread

bump for these wonderful stories

I feel fucking dirty for using a reaction image with two children in it in this thread.

this one bitch (she goes by theladyfeylene on Livejournal) ruined venture bros for me because of her fucking slash fanfiction arghhhh

All things considered, once I shook off my initial horror, the Hank/Dermott thing was kinda sweet, and makes a bit of sense.

Cute couple, can't wait for SkyPilot and Holy Diver to notice...heh

>>14313321
>the Monarch/21 thing was kinda sweet
Fixed it for you.

>>14312170
>>14312168
>>14312161
>>14312144
>>14312130
>>14311981
>>14311861
>>14311835
>>14311802
>>14311684
>>14311577
>>14311517
>>14311450
>>14311386
>>14311310
>>14311149

>>14313321
I would have preferred if Hank was more retarded about it. I mean sure, he's changed since season 1, but I never chalked him up to be anywhere near...mature.

You're not actually saging, brah

>>14311450
>>Dermott came at him, clumsily. It was easy for Hank to duck and shoot

lol

What they did at night sometimes was super wrong. Dean knew this, in theory. He knew lots of things in theory. In fact, if one was brutally honest, most of what Dean knew he knew only in theory. While he could identify a variety of monsters, cannibalistic natives, aliens and mutants from personal experience...his education was sorely lacking. He was a brilliant genius who'd just never been given any life lessons.

In theory, there were teenage girls outside the compound. There was even one inside the compound, but that was a concept that Dean had trouble thinking about after a few minutes. What with the sweating palms and shortness of breath and other unpleasant sensations that tended to make themselves known when he thought of Triana.

He didn't find himself plagued with sweaty palms or difficulty breathing or anything like that when he thought of Hank. Why would he, Hank was his brother? Even in theory you didn't think about your brother like that. It was two super no-nos in one.

But it didn't exactly stop Dean from just sliding over when Hank woke him up in the middle of the night. Or from switching off the nightlight because there was no way they'd do what they did in the light. They didn't talk about it. Dean never even thought about it in concrete thoughts, only the abstract. It was easier to think things like 'it's okay to sleep in the same bed as my twin brother even though I'm 17, because we have nightmares sometimes and it's safer'. That was a perfectly sane thought to have upon waking up in the morning, when Hank's arm was tossed over his chest and Hank's leg was casually tangled with his and Hank's head was on his shoulder....

>>14314211
Agreed. I mean, I know Hank isn't all uptight against swearing like Dean is but I have a hard time believing that he'll drop the word "bullshit" so casually like that. I mean this is a kid who, pass the age of 16, still calls his father "honky" and "President of the United States of Boogers"

'I sleep in the same bed as my brother sometimes because after everyone's asleep we sometimes make out and Stuff' was not a perfectly sane thought to have. So Dean just didn't have it.

But it was pretty hard to pretend it never happened when Hank was nibbling on his lower lip and breathing heavy all over his face. And Hank would stop, leave it alone and never mention it again, if Dean just said it bothered him. Because of course it bothered him! They were brothers, not gay boyfriends! And that wasn't right at all and also it was possibly illegal. But this was all in theory.

In reality, Dean didn't care that much that it was Hank who sometimes climbed into bed with him That Way. It honestly hadn't seemed very strange at first. They'd just wanted to practice kissing....

Which they were still doing, only Hank had gotten a lot better. And Hank's hands weren't sweating like they used to these days. And Hank's tongue no longer felt terribly clumsy in Dean's mouth.

Despite Dean's internal (and probably purely token) protests, he was soon half in his brother's lap. No clothes ever came off. Even with Dean recognizing on some level the difference between reality and theory, he wouldn't go that far. Not yet anyway. Probably not ever. But what if they got bored of kissing?

Dean tugged on a bit of Hank's hair and pulled away suddenly.

"Mmmph...wha?" Hank shifted. Even with no lights on and the blankets over their heads, Dean felt him move. "Wha's wrong?"

"You need a haircut." Hank's hair had always been close cropped, almost military length. Now Dean realized he could run his fingers through it.

"I'm growing it out. Warn me when you're gonna stop, will yah? I almost busted my lip on your teeth."

"Oh. Sorry." Dean reached up to play with Hank's hair again. In the dark, with his eyes closed, he could almost pretend it was a girl that liked him in bed with him. But it was just his brother, and once Hank had resumed their lip-lock, it was impossible to pretend anything else. But that was alright. At night, in the dark, it was okay. Their little secret, a special one only the Venture Brothers could share. Dean squirmed deeper into Hank's lap - but carefully, oh-so-carefully - and clasped his hands around his brother's neck.


It felt different tonight. And when Dean felt Hank's hand slide up underneath his pajama top, he only froze for a minute. Then he shivered because Hank's hand on his back was nice. Really nice. And suddenly he was very aware that Hank didn't bother with pajama pants, and there really wasn't much at all between them after all....

"…Holy sweet Jesus! And just what the hell is going on here?!?!?"

Neither one of them had heard the door open. Neither one of them had heard their father grumbling about the lack of the ever-present nightlight. They hadn't had any idea he was even in their room until the blankets were pulled away and their secret shame was laid bare to the night.

"It's not what it looks like!" Hank yelled at the same time Dean managed 'We were doing it in our sleep!"

At least they possessed enough wits to jump away from each other. Dean swallowed hard, staring with rapt terror into his father's outraged face. They were going to be grounded forever this time. And not just Hank, both of them!

"I.... You.... We're going...." Pop could barely manage to speak. He was almost purple. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no....

"We're totally grounded, aren't we?" Hank, for reasons Dean couldn't grasp, didn't seem to be that bothered by the fact that their father had walked in on them making out.

"Hank, go sleep on the couch. And yes, you're grounded." Hank grumbled as he climbed out of bed, grabbing a blanket from the floor and slouching towards the door while Pop called after him. "Which is nothing compared to the fact that you're an abomination in the face of god and nature!"

Hank didn't say anything. Dean felt behind him for one of his remaining stuffed animals. He came up with a pillow and hugged it anyway. What was Pop going to do to him? He was the good one! He never did anything like this! Except he did, and now he'd been caught, and he was going to be in so much trouble....

"Dean, calm down, you're going to give yourself an aneurism. Just take one of those sleeping pills I gave you the other week and go back to bed. We'll talk about this in the morning." Pop didn't look purple and angry anymore. He just looked tired. He patted Dean on the shoulder and straightened up, nodding once to the bedside drawer where the pills were. Dean hadn't taken any - Hank had kept the nightmares away.

"Yes Pop."

"And for god's sake, boy, don't let your brother feel you up anymore! That's it, you two are getting a new bodyguard. I leave you unsupervised for a few days, and look what you're idiot brother does...."

Pop kept mumbling as he left, and Dean sighed. Hank was banished to the couch, and would probably be stuck cleaning the sewers or scrubbing the septic tank with a toothbrush. And Dean got what were probably really good drugs and as close to paternal affection as Pop could offer. Pop probably wasn't even as mad about what had happened as he'd seemed. It was just something else he could hold over Hank's head. Dean was still the golden boy, clearly having been taken advantage of by his delinquent brother. That was how Pop saw it, and maybe even how Pop believed it happened.

Dean ignored the pills and settled back down in bed. There was Mr. Reachy! He held the stuffed giraffe to him and thought about his father and the empty bedroom and how the only person he'd ever kissed with tongue was his brother. He thought about what would happen tomorrow. He thought about what Pop would do for a new bodyguard. But mostly he just thought about the difference between theory and reality, and wondered why the former was always so much easier to believe in than the latter.

(Tbh, this fic seems more sad than lulz worthy. The boys are really lonely :( )

>>14311145
Please stop constantly spamming and harassing www.ａｎｏｎｔａｌｋ.com. Thank you.