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It's a quiet night aboard the spaceship. Mission Find Dirk in full swing. The Gods, and not quite Gods but Gods by association, of Earth C have mostly settled in to rest.
Night is a term Dave uses generously, affording some sense of familiarity to this fucked up stage in their ‘til the heat death of the universe’ lifespans (sans a Just or Heroic death, of course).
Who knows what time it really is? If anyone on this damn ship should know, it'd be Dave. Knight of Time, and all that. God tier, too.
But, it all blurs together. Sure, they have watches, phones, and clocks. What difference does a number on a screen, or the point of a needle make when all you see beyond the glass is black.
Black.
Squint as you may, it's black. They pass by the occasional twinkle of stars, and sometimes some purple-pink-red mush swirls up into vision, highlights the sharp edges of counters, the dismay in Kanaya's grief-hardened features. And then it's gone.
Black, again.
Dave doesn't know if they'll ever find Dirk. He's not even sure he wants to. He doesn't want to tackle the prospect of what they'll have to do if (heavy on the if) they find him.
He'd spent so long getting to know Dirk, and working to separate the existing concept of Bro from Dirk in his mind. So long reassuring himself, and being reassured by Dirk's long-term friends, that Dirk and Bro were different. That Dirk, although strange, unreadable, and with walls of titanium firm around every emotion he ever had the displeasure of being subjected to, was a good person.
So why, why, would he do something of this caliber?
Dave wants answers, more than anything else. He was never good at talking to Dirk, even though he was the one Dave would often opt for talking to about thoughts and feelings too jumbled to take to his own friends.
Dirk was, above all, a good listener.
Sure, he couldn't comfort people for shit. But he listened. He always listened. And he'd rest a stiff hand on Dave's back, or shoulder. And he'd nod, and not make excuses for or against Dave. He'd let Dave ruminate in his feelings, and occasionally make quips in hopes of cheering him up.
Dave wonders what could have possibly driven Dirk to do this. What could have been worth the sacrifice of everything he'd built up?
How much had Dirk hidden from all of them?
How much of it all was lies?
What had Dirk done to Rose?
It's all too much. Dave so badly wants to be optimistic, to think things will turn out just hunky dory when they find Dirk and reunite Kanaya and Rose, but he knows, in some horrible, stomach-churning, convoluted way that…
It's going to end in bloodshed. Royal, cardiac blood, and lots of it.
Dave isn't sure he can watch another brother die.
He's laying awake, in bed, shades settled on the bedside table. His boyfriend, Karkat, had stalked off an estimated 10 minutes ago, to get something to drink.
Dave had waved him off when asked if he wanted anything, and off the troll went. Now, he kind of regrets not getting up and following him.
Too many thoughts, and they're all so heavy, and he could really use a distraction from the deafening silence filling his ears. A conversation with Roxy, or a catfight with possessed Jade, or even an awkward and stiff run-in with Jake or Jane, both of whom he barely talks to anymore. Anything would be better than this.
Dave rolls onto his side, grateful for the sound of the covers rustling with his movements. It's something. It's audible.
Seconds tick by at a rate that makes Dave wonder if time flows differently here. If the power of his own mind's incessant overthinking was enough to quite literally change the pace of a second passing.
He draws the conclusion that that is also just him overthinking. A surprisingly sensible conclusion, because if there's one thing Striders are good at, it's being nonsensical about their own thoughts and emotions.
Eventually, after what Dave considers cruel centuries of waiting, the door to the bedroom creaks open. Pale, artificial light filters in, and a shadow casts its silhouette in the bright streak drawn over the floor and splitting across the bed.
A shadow with nubby horns, a stocky, chubby build, and-
Dave sits up, without even realising he'd moved to do so. It startles Karkat as much as it startles himself, because the horned man jolts his posture straight, and all but squawks.
It's a funny sound, and a faint smirk pulls at the corners of Dave's lips.
“Oooouf. That was not manly.”
He prods, pillowing his hands behind his head against the headboard, and squinting a challenge towards his partner.
Karkat scoffs, stomping in and shutting the door with a deceivingly gentle force, considering the way his face is contorted in rage. Not atypical of him. In fact, Dave thinks he'd worry if his boyfriend wore another expression.
“Shut up, Dave.”
The grey-skinned troll grumbles, setting his steaming mug of coffee on his own bedside table. He throws back the covers, and slides his legs into the bed, yawning.
Dave watches, through his peripheral.
Karkat rubs at his eyes with his knuckles, makes a small, indistinct sound somewhere between a moan and a sniffle, and then flops back against the headboard too.
“Correct me if I'm wrong, but you look fucking exhausted and for some reason coffee doesn't strike me as the solution to that.”
Earning him another scoff, Karkat reaches out and flicks the side of Dave's face. Dave feigns offence, drawing a hand up to press against the oh so terrible wound.
“Low blow, man.”
“Do you ever get tired of the sound of your own voice?”
It's not a question, really. Dave opening his mouth to answer like it is one is rewarded with a hissed ‘ssshhhhht!’, Karkat waggling a claw in his direction.
“Nope. Nope! You're gonna come out with something smug like ‘nah, but you don't either’, and I'm way too tired to argue with you over that.”
The corners of Dave's lips twitch upwards. Subtle, but not subtle enough that Karkat doesn't notice, brows pricking up to match.
“I dunno, Karkat, you're kinda the one starting this up. Not me.”
“YOU were the one who opened your big mouth in the first place!”
His voice grows more shrill when he gets defensive, and Dave loves it. He rolls onto his side again, facing his boyfriend, and his eyes rake over Karkat's features.
His brows, thick, are furrowed again, knitting tight. A fold in his skin draws a dark shadow between them. His button nose wrinkles, and although his gaze, yellow-red and concealed beneath thick dark lashes, is fixed on Dave with an air of sharp displeasure, Dave's in no way blind to the carmine tint on Karkat's deliciously silver cheeks.
“What are you looking at?”
Karkat's voice comes out a little more uncertain. Distrusting. He can't quite read what's going on behind Dave's deep red eyes. It annoys him, to no end, because 90% of the time he reads Dave like a book.
Dave just shrugs.
“You.”
Karkat sputters out a few garbled syllables, and bears his pointy little teeth.
“Dave.”
“What, is it such a crime for a man to wanna admire his boyfriend every now and then?”
“Dave.”
The Strider snorts, edging his way across the bed with subtle wriggles of his hips. Karkat informs him, with a downward flit of his eyes, that he has very much noticed the movement, and Dave's ‘subtle’ gain in proximity to him.
“You're plotting something.”
Bold accusations, flying around in here. Dave answers with another frustrating shrug, and Karkat squints.
It's not long until Dave is near pressed to his boyfriend's side. Notably, Karkat had made zero efforts to move away in the half a minute this went on for.
“I was thinking-”
“Oh, God.”
“Wow, okay, let me finish. I was thinking a lot when you were out of the room, and I couldn't sleep, ‘cause I was thinking too hard.”
Karkat squints harder at his boyfriend, suddenly a little worried. Rightfully so, although Dave wouldn't admit that, and isn't going to elaborate on what he was thinking about. They've had awkward feelings jams on this spaceship before, plenty of times, and Dave thinks… Well, he tells Karkat what he thinks.
“I could use a distraction.”
Oh.
“Dave, I kind of think talking about your feelings is a good idea-”
He's immediately shut up by the feeling of Dave's nose tickling his neck, and a cold-fingered hand trailing up, under his red sweater. His breath catches in his thorax, and stays there, held. Grey skin prickles in the wake of Dave's chilly digits.
“Oh-”
Karkat's spine arches a small way off the bed, chasing Dave's touch when his fingers soon retract. The subconscious action, which Dave notices, just elicits a smirk. Dave bites his lip, chewing on his own skin, and rocks to the side with a heaved ‘hup’.
He straddles Karkat, who stares up at him with those big, pretty eyes, and a slightly agape mouth.
“We do the whole feelings talk a lot, and it's awkward.”
Dave's hands both slide under Karkat's sweater this time, palms splayed across his skin. His fingers spread out, and they settle over the slightly raised residual scars above Karkat's ribs. His boyfriend shudders deliciously beneath him, Dave sighing out in bliss.
Yeah, this is a good distraction. This is what he needs.
“Fuck, Dave.”
Karkat sighs, slinging an arm over his eyes, much to Dave's displeasure. He wants to see those!
“You're insatiable.”
He might sound irritable, but Dave knows Karkat well enough to understand he's just trying to seem like he's not aching for more. Playing that slick little façade of his before he crumbles and can't quite resist doing everything to satisfy Dave.
The both of them know a thing or two about façades, after all. Dave might overthink everything that happens to him, frankly, ever. But when it comes to matters of acts, he's pretty on the money all the time.
“Not my fault my boyfriend's an alien with a prehensile dick. Lil guy knows how to move, Karkat.”
Dave leans back. A little chitter leaves Karkat's thorax when Dave's hands evacuate his body again.
“Uuuuuuggggggghhhhhh.”
Karkat groans, lifting his arm enough to eye Dave beneath it. He watches as Dave grips the base of his own black sweater, adorned with his boyfriend's symbol, and pulls it up over his head, tossing it aside with reckless abandon.
Piercing yellow eyes trace over smooth, pale skin, littered with freckles. Dave is skinny, with small amounts of lean muscle visible in his arms when he moves. His chest rises and falls in shuddery breaths, a blush blooming across his cheeks, his pretty shoulders, and the tips of his ears the more Karkat stares.
A jolt runs up Dave's spine as Karkat's jagged, bitten down claws find his waist, and dig lightly into the soft white. When red eyes find Karkat's own, he's met with smugness. Karkat is smirking up at him, brows raised, gaze narrowed.
“What, Dave? Purrbeast got your tongue?”
He snorts, slipping one rough hand up to roll his thumb over Dave's nipple. The unexpected motion causes a zap of electric warmth through Dave, that goes straight to his groin. He winces.
If he has a semi before he can prompt Karkat to unsheathe his weird but also incredibly useful and attractive tentadick, he'd lose his own imaginary contest he'd conjured up in his mind.
“Mm. Nah.”
Dave squirms, lifting one leg off of Karkat and instead opting to slot it between his thighs.
Unfortunately, Karkat is a sucker for any form of friction. It's frankly pathetic, the way he doesn't hesitate to press his hips down and rock them against the fabric covering Dave's skinnier thigh. A subtle noise joins the rustling of material; a purr, emanating from his alien boyfriend. It's a deep rumble that vibrates Karkat's throat and chest, louder when the troll opens his mouth to let out a heavy breath.
“Unless you're the purrbeast, ‘cause you are pretty cat-like.”
Dave observes, casual, hair on the back of his neck prickling to a stand. Little bumps appear across his skin - chills. Karkat looks so good.
He's breathing deep and shaky, bucking his hips back and forth. Dave assists by pressing his knee forward, and a surprised trill erupts in Karkat's thorax. Both of them pause, and Dave snickers. Karkat's cheeks flush a harsh red.
“See?”
“If anything, and I'm going to use your human terms here for simplicity, that was a bird noise!”
“I dunno, Kar. It was more like the sound a cat makes when you touch them out of nowhere. Which is actually exactly what I did.”
Dave acknowledges, looking pointedly down where his leg is lodged between both of Karkat's.
“Technicalities, Dave!”
Karkat whines, pressing his body insistently down. Dave reciprocates, see-sawing his knee back and forth in a motion opposite to Karkat.
It's not long before Dave notices his pants sticking to Karkat's more with each rub. Hmm.
He slips a hand down, revelling in the gasp Karkat emits as his digits find a wet patch. Dave's smirk is devilish when he next meets Karkat's gaze.
“Awww. Karkat. Are you wet?”
He teases, keeping his hand there as he moves his leg away. Dave shuffles down the bed, slow, until his chest hovers above Karkat's abdomen and he steadies himself with hands on the troll's hips. Karkat is staring down at him, lips swollen from digging his fangs into them.
“Is that rhetorical? That's rhetorical, right? You're just asking that to be an a-”
Karkat gasps, jerking his hips when Dave leans down and presses his open mouth over the wet strip in his pyjama pants. Dave's tongue runs over the rough fabric, warm breath seeping through. He feels Karkat's hands tangle in his hair, gripping, digging into his scalp.
“Hfff. Fuck you, Dave..”
He tastes incredible. That's one thing Dave can never quite get enough of. The taste of his boyfriend.
Leaning up again, Dave's thumbs curl into Karkat's waistband. He tugs, humming his wordless appreciation at his partner's obedience in lifting his hips off the bed to assist him. Dave wastes no time here, pulling both Karkat's pants and boxers off in one go, down to his knees.
He's left with an even more delicious sight. It's truly mouth-watering. Indescribably so.
He still remembers the first time he got to see Karkat's bare body, and every time he's filled with the same flush of warmth, the same jolt of excitement, the same tug at his heart and the rush of blood to his gut…
Karkat's bulge, red and oozing, is writhing, curling in on itself, desperate to be touched. It seeps translucent juices down to its base, soaking Karkat's thighs where his sheath connects to his equally wet nook. Dave has to resist the urge to lick his lips at the sight, fingers itching to reach out.
So he does. He curls his hand around Karkat's squirming tentacle, and it reacts in tandem, twisting around his fingers and seeking more of Dave's touch. Karkat's back is arched. While one hand remains bunched in Dave's hair, the other now grips the bedsheets by his side.
Dave bites his lip, and crawls upwards, pressing their bodies flush against each other. Sweat glues Karkat's shirt to his torso, skin of his neck glistening with a sheen, barely visible in the darkness of the room. Hand starting to work Karkat's bulge, sliding up and down its tapered length, Dave leans in and kisses Karkat.
He's met with eager reciprocation, and Karkat moans into his mouth. Up, down. Achingly slow. Up, down. He squeezes the base, sprawling his fingers and speeding up. When he slips his tongue past Karkat's fangs, and tangles it with his boyfriend's, he slows his hand again. Karkat whimpers past his lips, and drags his upper teeth along Dave's tongue.
The sharp, throbbing pain in their wake makes Dave awfully aware of the pulse he's feeling beneath his own waistband. His now firm hard-on strains against his underwear and pants.
Allowing his body to rest atop Karkat without propping himself up, Dave slides his formerly free hand down between them too.
He manoeuvres it, as far down as his long arms will go. Sliding past Karkat's bulge, which he's still slowly pumping, rubbing and squeezing, Dave's fingers find his boyfriend's nook.
He rubs the pad of his pointer and middle finger over Karkat's wet slit, revelling in the way the other pulls away with puffed up lips, drool smothered onto his chin, and a glassy look in his pretty eyes.
Dave smirks.
“D-Dave.”
Karkat whispers, pleading, spreading his legs apart and bucking up against both of his boyfriend's wandering hands.
“Yeah, Kar?”
His middle and ring digit slide into Karkat's welcoming hole. Dave bites his lip, groaning under his breath at the feeling of his walls clenching and fluttering around him. Fuck. Any further complaint Karkat was going to make filters out into little moans, whimpers and croons, while Dave starts pumping his fingers in and out.
With each tug up on Karkat's bulge, his fingers pull back from his eager nook. And with each stroke down on Karkat's bulge, his fingers plunge back, to the depth of his third knuckle.
The room is filled with the wet sounds of the troll's juices, Karkat's shrill noises, Dave's heavy breathing and still the deep grumble-purr in Karkat's chest and throat.
“Dave. Dave I-”
“Yeah? Yeah, Karkat?”
Dave pumps faster, rolling his wrist. He curls his fingers against Karkat's walls, pressing into the spot that he knows drives his boyfriend crazy.
Fuck, he needs out of his remaining clothes. Both because of his aching erection, and because of the translucent red seeping through his pants where he lays atop Karkat, gluing the material to his very alert… problem.
“I'm gonna- I'm-”
Dave stops.
He retracts his fingers, and unwraps his hand. With some difficulty, that is, Karkat's tentacle following after his touch at the loss of sensation.
Karkat gasps, eyes wide.
“Dave!”
He exclaims. Dave just chuckles, looking elsewhere.
“Yeah?”
“Fuck you! I was gonna p- hah.”
Dave starts snickering, leaning in and pressing wet kisses in a line down Karkat's throat, over the lump that his growls are coming from. He licks Karkat's collarbone, then straightens up, sitting atop his thighs.
“Yeah, yeah. Let's get your sweater off before you overheat and die.”
This time, Karkat doesn't complain. He sighs, sitting up too, and tugging his sweater up to the best of his abilities. It drags across his skin, and Dave's slimy fingers come to his aid.
Karkat wonders if Dave is just using this ‘help’ as an excuse to feel him up, if the way Dave drags his palms over his sides and his pupation scars is anything to go by.
“You're a pervert.”
He accuses, brows twitching together. Dave shrugs.
“I was fingering you like, 30 seconds ago.”
“...Okay, so, touché. But that kind of backs my point up? It makes you more of a pervert?”
The shirt comes up over his tufts of messy hair, and he throws it over the side of the bed into the makeshift clothes pile. Dave wastes no time in diving down, craning his back. He continues kissing the line he's been drawing over Karkat's neck, now declining through the middle of his chest. Karkat lays back, slowly, and Dave comes with him.
Winding his hands around Dave, Karkat's claws trace the gentle lumps and bumps of Dave's pointed spine vertebrae. The small hairs on Dave's skin bristle at the tender touches.
Kisses trail all the way down to his abdomen, and his bulge writhes its way upwards, tickling Dave's chin. Dave had, by now, descended the bed, and Karkat's fingers lace into his hair again.
Dave sticks out his tongue, giving the thin tip of the tentacle a tentative lick. It shudders at the touch, a motion that replicates in Karkat's whole body. He lets out a breathy moan, and a subsequent hiss.
His lips wrap around the appendage, sucking in more wet flesh as Dave relaxes his throat. Karkat bucks into the inviting warmth, and his tip tickles the base of Dave's tongue.
A garbled noise comes from the human, but he flattens his tongue against the bottom of Karkat's bulge, slowly bobbing his head. The prehensile organ works itself in and out too, leaving Dave with less work to do.
“Hhn. Ff. Fuck, Dave.”
Karkat's little praises are uttered between his teeth. Dave stares up at him, resting his hands on the troll's thighs and spreading them apart.
“You're so- mm.”
Dave snorts, pulling off with a wet pop, much to Karkat's dismay yet again.
“Sorry, sorry. I promise I'll make up for stopping again.”
He waves his own actions off, swiping Karkat's fluid from his lips and chin with the back of a hand. Karkat growls.
“You better! Jegus, Dave, I didn't ask to be edged today.”
“I'm sorryyyy- Listen.”
Dave settles back into place, dipping down a little lower. Karkat gasps, at the sudden intrusive feeling of a tongue dragging across the dripping wet slit of his nook.
“Fuck!”
He whimpers, biting down on his lip hard enough to draw pinpricks of blood. His claws tangle in the bedsheets, and his eager bulge writhes on Dave's forehead and in his hair, fussing it around and sticking it to his skin. Dave smirks.
“I said I'd make it up to you.”
Dave's tongue parts through Karkat's folds, and he goes to town. There's nothing he loves more than eating Karkat out.
Sure, when it comes to actual sex, Dave loves being on the receiving end and seeing Karkat take charge over him.
But… in foreplay?
There's no better feeling than Karkat's walls clamping around his tongue. Than the rich, heady taste of Karkat's arousal smothered on his face. Than the intoxicating smell of need, of desperation.
Dave's fingers grasp Karkat's plush thighs, splayed, and he sucks, thrusting his tongue every which way. Seeking more of that taste, seeking more mewled noise from his partner. Karkat's back is arched off of the bed, head thrown into the pillows. He squirms, rubbing himself against Dave's working mouth and nose like a whore.
God, it's beautiful.
Sure, hard to see because of the tentacle obscuring his vision, plastered between his eyes, but beautiful nonetheless.
Dave moves a hand to grasp Karkat's bulge at its base, working it up and down in tandem with the thrusts of his tongue. Karkat's hole flutters, and a knot in the depths of his gut tightens, and Dave can just tell by the ragged nature of his breaths and the pleas spilling from his lips that Karkat is about to cum.
And he does.
“Dave!”
Slapping a hand over his mouth to quieten himself, Karkat clamps his thighs against the sides of Dave's head. He comes undone, spilling red into the Strider's hair, down his face, into his mouth and down his chin.
Dave laps it up like a thirsty dog, swallowing down as much as he can. It's pathetic, the way he savours every drop he can get.
He's so, so thankful Karkat is too spent to see or poke fun.
Sitting straight, Dave watches Karkat's bulge slowly retract into the sheathe. Not quite fully, but it's clear he's going to have to wait a little before getting the sweet release he's craving.
He crawls up, making brief eye contact with Karkat, whose lips are bruising and whose eyes are glassy. Dave resists the urge to snicker, slinging his legs over the side of the bed and wriggling himself out of his plaid pants.
Finally!
It feels so good to get out of those, to free the aching hard-on he'd been neglecting this whole time. He kicks his pants aside, boxers having come down with them.
A sigh of relief slips from his parted lips, and he shuts his eyes. Dave focuses on the throbbing, and the steady thump-thump of his heart against the otherwise silent spaceship.
Ironically, he's not sure how much time has passed before the bed dips behind him.
Two arms wrap around his waist, and Dave leans into the touch. His back meets Karkat's sweaty chest, and a soft shiver runs down his spine. Karkat litters sweet kisses to the crook of Dave's neck, tugging him backwards further onto the bed, which Dave allows.
“We're gonna need a trip to the laundry room later.”
Dave comments absentmindedly, opening his eyes back up.
Karkat laughs, arms tightening around Dave's bare stomach. He kisses his boyfriend's earlobe, caressing his skin with his thumbs.
“Roxy's gonna fucking kill us.”
He rasps, nuzzling into Dave lovingly. Dave shrugs, bumping Karkat's nose with his shoulder. They both laugh, whilst one of Karkat's fronds ventures up. He pinches Dave's nipple, shortening the blonde's laugh into a gasp. He rolls it beneath his thumb, nipping an open-mouthed trail over Dave's shoulder.
“He- He really is.”
Dave agrees, slyly wrapping a hand around his pleading cock, flush against his abdomen and seeping precum. He works it with just the motion of his forearm, knitting his brows together.
It's not subtle enough. Karkat reaches out, and clasps his fingers around Dave's.
He forces Dave's wrist up and down, pinching and rolling his nipple with the other hand. Dave's head lolls back, hips rocking in a slow, but ever so needy motion.
Being made to jerk himself off by Karkat is the most delicious humiliation. Dave hates that he loves it.
He hates knowing Karkat is really getting off on this, literally. But fuck, he's so desperate to be touched that even his own hand, driven by Karkat's, feels like a blessing from the heavens above.
Or, wherever heaven is now that they're out here in space, if it even existed in the first place.
Maybe it's below them now. He's never really considered the logistics of the supposed location of heaven.
Maybe he shouldn't be thinking about trivial shit like that while jerking off with his naked and sexy alien boyfriend. But it was a fun train of thought to entertain regardless. Dave decides to stick that on the back burner. Where is heaven geographically? Tune in to the next episode of ‘The Mind of one David Strider’ to find out.
“Hellooo? Are you in there?”
Dave blinks, and realises. Ah, Karkat's waving a hand in front of his eyes. He bites back a grin, despite the pleasure from before having met its temporary end.
“Yeah.”
Karkat waits for anything more than just that.
Nope. Dave looks at him, over his shoulder, and flutters those pretty blonde lashes of his, and Karkat just groans.
Dave was always so spacey. Pun not intended. Karkat worries about him, especially since it had gotten a LOT worse since they left Earth C to come on this race through space-time to… probably kill Dave's ectobrotherdad or something.
When he puts it like that, he can't say he blames Dave for being out of it. Nor can he say there's no logical explanation.
There is. That's a lot for someone to come to terms with. They'd had many late night (endless darkness notwithstanding) feelings jams about that exact topic.
What's worse is that there was only so much Karkat could say, and it wasn't much help.
They didn't know what the future held, what they were going to find, or even if they were going to find Dirk at all. And with his mortality, and Dave's conditional immortality, there's a lot at stake.
But their greatest enemy here, so ironic it'd put any Strider to shame, is Time.
It's all Time.
Karkat sighs, sliding his arms back under Dave's armpits and using the leverage to pull him all the way back onto the bed.
“Lay down. Get comfy.”
He commands. Dave, for once, obeys without argument. He wriggles his way up to rest his head on the pillows.
Crawling between Dave's legs, it's now Karkat's turn to lay flush atop his boyfriend. In this position, he almost dwarfs Dave. Sure, Dave's taller than him, but he's also lanky, skinny. Karkat's stocky and broad and rounded in all the right places.
His bulge has recovered from his prior orgasm, as Karkat feels the tingling of it unfurling from his sheathe again. It finds Dave's dick, and wraps itself around it.
Both men shudder, and Dave throws his head back, lips parting. Frotting is great and all, but it's so much better when you're doing it with someone whose alien dick can move on its own.
The tip of Karkat's tentacle wraps around the shapely head of Dave's cock, firm, while the thicker portions of his prehensile organ accordion their way around his shaft. It feels incredible.
Dave, typically quiet in bed, rewards Karkat with some deep, throaty moans. His nails dig into the tough skin of Karkat's shoulderblades, holding tight. The friction, and wetness, between their bodies is addicting.
Karkat slides his arms under Dave's thighs, folding his legs up so his knees meet his ribs.
“Dave.”
A breathy- “Yeah.”
“Can I?”
He's answered not with words at first, but by Dave slipping a hand between their damp bodies and working to pry Karkat's bulge from its twisted position around his cock. He shudders, helping Dave with his efforts, and shifting his abdomen downwards to a position more apt for what was to come.
Now, Dave wraps his arms around Karkat's neck and pulls him down close, pressing their foreheads together and gazing up through fond eyes.
“Please.”
Karkat doesn't need to be told twice.
Lining itself up, Karkat's tip slides into Dave's tight hole with a practiced ease. Thankfully, the slick of genetic fluid that had built up over the past near-hour acts as a lubricant enough.
He didn't really want to waste any more time without Dave's warmth around him, squeezing the Jegus out of him. It’s something no toy, no hand, no mouth, no person and no troll could ever live up to.
At least, Karkat thinks that's the case. He hasn't really… He didn't have much time to engage in these kinds of things before Dave, and besides, he was too young pre-Sgrub, you freak.
Letting Dave's body envelop each inch of his tentadick, Karkat bottoms out within him, watching Dave bite his lip and twist his face as he grapples with the familiar intrusion.
“You okay?”
Karkat's concern only grows when bedding Dave. Sometimes it's a little much, a bit over the top, but Dave never complains. Seeing Karkat so caring is worth the mild irritation of constantly having to reassure him that his alien dick is perfectly fine inside of him and not killing him as we speak.
Dave nods, taking a handful of Karkat's tousled black curls between his fingers, webbing the hairs over his knuckles. Karkat bristles at the feeling, his purrs coming out more like the coos of a dove than a horny troll.
Sounds from the heavens. Dave doesn't know how he got back to that train of thought again. Shit, it isn't time for the next episode of Dave's mind yet. He hasn't figured out the answer to that other question…
“Should I…”
“Yes, Kar.”
Dave's tone is abrasive, impatient, and that alone seems to serve as a solid boost to Karkat's confidence. His dark lips curl into a sly smile, and he rocks his hips back, rolling himself in and out of his boyfriend.
The speed of his motions grow, holding Dave's thin thighs, meeting his lips now in a deep kiss. Dave's quiet moans filter between their entwined tongues.
Nipping Dave's lower lip, Karkat digs his claws into the pretty, soft skin and uses the extra leverage to thrust with more unbridled need.
Dave's fingers tug on his hair now, grasping desperately, arching his spine from the covers into Karkat's chest.
Breaking the kiss apart, Karkat whimpers under his breath, between each rumble upwards of a purr catching in the depths of his throat.
“Fuck, Karkat.”
Dave groans, squeezing his pretty eyes shut. Karkat snorts, kissing atop his eyelids, and then the tip of Dave's sharp nose. The blonde can't help it, smiling, just enough that Karkat's heart swells.
“Please.”
“Please what?”
Karkat rocks his hips all the way back, tapered length leaving an emptiness in its wake that Dave subconsciously presses his body down to counter. The troll, smirking now, hovers where he is.
Betrayed, Dave's eyes dart back open to stare at him.
“Oh, God. You're not gonna-”
“I am.”
“Karkat.”
Dave whines, tossing an arm across his face.
“C'mon Dave. You're always on me about having manners, or whatever. Soooo.”
He leans back, shrugging, but his gaze is still fixed on his boyfriend. Dave huffs, rubbing his palm over his forehead.
The silence that stems from there is tense. Both men don't want to give in for the sake of winning, but, fuck, Dave needs it.
He needs this.
He swallows his ego.
“Please fuck me, Kar. Please. I need you. You should totally show me what that tentacle can do.”
“HA!”
Karkat laughs, leaning back down and kissing Dave softly. When they part, he grins.
“Well, fine. Since you asked sooo nicely.”
Slam.
Dave casts his head back and moans aloud. He claps his hand over his mouth, suddenly conscious of how silent the ship had been beforehand. Fuck. Roxy probably heard that. Hell, maybe Jake or Jane did, too.
Not that it matters when the bed creaks with every one of Karkat's harsher thrusts, retracting to the tip and snapping back in to the hilt, over, and over.
Dave's so tight around him, it takes effort to even pull out that much. Squeezing his length. Trying so desperately to keep him buried deep within Dave's core.
Karkat's vision is blurring, and he knows he won't be able to last much longer. By the pitch rising in Dave's moans, Dave wasn't far off either.
He slips a clawed hand between them again, snaking it down and grasping Dave's weeping cock. His wrist twists, working his boyfriend closer to the edge with every tug and every thrust. Dave's hole flutters, and it nearly sends Karkat plummeting into an orgasm then and there.
He resists, until Dave's legs are trembling, and he's babbling quiet pleas against his own knuckles.
“Karkat. Karkat please. I'm gonna- Hooh- Fu-uck.”
Dave's breathing hitches, clasping his thighs against Karkat's sides and digging his knees into his ribs.
“Me too, Dave. Me- Me too.”
Karkat kisses along Dave's jawline. His movements fall sloppy, seeking the end, chasing the light spotting across his vision. He squeezes his eyes closed, brows knitting together.
Hand pumping Dave's dick, holding tight, thumbing the opening in his tip, Karkat can't stop himself. Not anymore.
He gasps, spilling over. His hips lock in. Not really thrusting so to say now, but base deep within him, rolling his hips in jagged circles as Dave comes undone seconds later, clawing down Karkat's back and moaning out his name as he spurts across Karkat's hand and their stomachs.
Genetic fluid soaks the bed where their bodies meet, and runs down Karkat's wet thighs.
“Hhah. Hnn. Dave.”
Karkat laughs, breathless, tucking his face into the crook of Dave's neck. Dave's arms tighten around him, pulling him close and nestling against the side of Karkat's head himself.
The two spend some time recovering, enjoying one another's presence. Coming down from the high of some good concupiscent activities, as Dave's sure Karkat would put it. So lame. So stupid.
“I love you.”
It's Dave. Surprisingly.
Karkat grunts, sitting up to pull himself out, much to Dave's temporary dismay. This dismay is quick to filter into embarrassment, when Karkat's arms wrap under his legs and his back and he's suddenly lifted off the bed and cradled against the troll's chest.
“I love you too, Dave.”
“What are you doing??”
“Taking you for a shower. Duh? I mean, fuck! Unless you'd rather lay there in all of that all night. That's fine too, but I'm not gonna be doing that.”
Dave stares up at his boyfriend, whose rambles fall on deaf ears. The blonde smiles to himself, rolls his eyes, and shrugs.
He's pretty sure Heaven is a Place on Earth - in the words of Belinda Carlisle (1987).
But at times like this, heaven's right here, in front of him.