
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1000961.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      The_Signless/Karkat_Vantas, The_Disciple/The_Signless, The_Disciple/The
      Signless/Karkat_Vantas
  Character:
      The_Signless, Karkat_Vantas, The_Disciple
  Additional Tags:
      Dream_Bubbles, Threesome_-_F/M/M, Bulges_and_Nooks, Come_Inflation, First
      Time
  Series:
      Part 7 of Tumblr_Porn_Prompt_Fics
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-10-12 Words: 4828
****** In Hospitality and Love ******
by temporalDecay
Summary
     Karkat ends up in his Ancestor's dreambubble. He's kinda okay with
     that, all things considered.
Notes
     IT WAS MEANT TO BE A SHORT PWP ONE-SHOT. But alright, if I can't have
     it all, at least it can stay a one-shot, since it's neither short nor
     exactly PWP.
     ...oh sweet merciful god, please let it stay a one-shot.
“I never got a chance to have sex,” Karkat mutters, and the absurdity of the
statement makes you crack a laugh.
“That’s your biggest regret?” You tease a little, sitting on the shore of the
lake and watching him bounce rocks off the surface of the water.
“Not my biggest regret,” he says a little defensively, looking at you over the
corner of his eye – you suppose, though his eyes are white now, so you’re just
assuming from his body language. You were always really good at reading body
language, though. “It just… occurred to me now.” He turns back to the lake and
scoops up another rock to throw. You corrected his form and showed him how to
do it properly, before you sat down where you are. He didn’t thank you and you
didn’t expect him to, but it’s amusing to see him doing it now. Skipping stones
always made you feel better about things, when you were alive. “That I’m dead,”
he goes on, watching the rock bounce off the surface of the water as it goes,
“like… that’s it. I’m done. All the shit I ever wanted to do, and I’m never
going to do it now.”
“Technically you can,” you smile a little wanly, not quite sure how to take
that statement from him, considering he doesn’t sound upset. Not exactly. “I
mean, you do have all the time in the world left here, and no one can stop you
from… well, doing anything you want.”
“I guess,” he sighs, and then picks another rock.
“You’re not missing much,” you say, awkwardly lying through your teeth in an
attempt to cheer him up. “With the sex thing. Really messy affair. Always a
little bit awkward somehow. And—“
“Please,” he shudders, “stop talking.”
You laugh a bit, and he throws the rock at your head. You duck, grinning as he
flushes violently.

===============================================================================

“So what was it like?” Karkat asks you, peering at you from across the table as
you dig at your dinner.
You have been dead a long time. Long enough you’ve purged the bitterness and
the anger out of your system. By now you just want to enjoy the afterlife and
hope your message wasn’t completely lost. Though if what Karkat’s ranted at you
about is true, well. That doesn’t matter anymore. Consequently, you’ve spent a
good chunk of your death trying out food you never could, when you were alive.
You can’t know if it tastes like the real thing does, but it tastes exactly
like you imagine it would. And you have a nice imagination when it comes to
things that look delicious.
“What was what like?” You blink at him, stirring a spoon in a bowl of stew that
smells mouthwateringly good.
“Having sex,” he blurts out, and you’re grateful you don’t have anything in
your mouth because you might have spat it out onto his face.
“Uh,” you try, then shrug, pointedly ignoring the way your face is flaming.
“Nice,” you offer, shrugging again, “I suppose.”
“Hm,” is his pensive reply, and then he focuses on his own share of stew.
You decide to think about what it tastes like, to him, rather than anything
else. Because the alternative is very, very awkward. Granted, he seemed to have
calmed down considerably, after he was done yelling at you for the grave sin of
being his ancestor, when you met him the first time. Afterwards, he seemed sort
of fascinated and wary about you, but not really in a bad way. You hope, at
least, it wasn’t a bad way, because he’s your descendant and you never even
thought you’d get one, and all you really want is to hug him and make him
happy, because if anyone knows how much it sucks to grow up being you, it’s
him. And vice versa, you suppose.
“Did you have, ah, someone you wanted to… you know… with?” You force yourself
to ask, when the silence stretches to long and you start feeling guilty for
having lived so much more than him and having experienced all the things he
didn’t.
“What?” He snaps back from his thoughts with a little jump, and then flushes.
“Oh. Uh. No. Not really.” He pauses. “…there was a girl I really liked,” he
admits, quickly enough you think he might actually want to have this
conversation with you, and the thought makes you warm and panicky at once. “I
mean. I think she kinda liked me, too. But it was weird and awkward and I just…
I didn’t want her in a quadrant,” he admits, looking guilty, “kinda… wanted her
in all four at once.”
“Oh,” you say, breathing out a slow sigh, and suddenly wondering what would it
be like, if your Disciple hadn’t been receptive of your advances. You wince. “I
was the same.”
That gets his attention really fast, and you smile awkwardly, shrugging again.
He gives you a suspicious look, and you half expect him to ask if this is
another thing you left for him, something else you fucked up for both of you.
But then he doesn’t say anything and you don’t really want to say anything, so
you just eat in silence and let it go.

===============================================================================

“…what if I wanted to have sex with you?” Karkat asks, hurriedly, as if scared
of actually letting the words out.
You can’t remember how long you’ve known him, by now, how long it took him to
fall into the same mellow complacency you did. He’s never really left your
bubble, gone off exploring to find someone else, and you’ve never questioned it
until now. Except now you’re too busy falling off a tree to really process the
implications.
“What?” You squeak a bit, and he looks at you from the branch he’s perched on –
because he’d never climbed a tree before, and you couldn’t have that, because
you love climbing trees and he had to at least try once, of course – with a
mixture of apprehension and just the barest hint of hope that makes your
insides tremble a little.
“You know what, forget it,” he snaps, automatically taking on that angry,
snarly tone he had, right after he died. “It’s a fucking stupid—“
“I’d ask if you really knew what you were asking for,” you interrupt, with
aplomb and calm you don’t really feel. “And maybe ask where this came from and
make sure you understood what’s going on, because you’re not technically a
child anymore but I wouldn’t want to hurt you either way.” You pause for a
second, and feel your face coloring brightly. “And perhaps after all that was
answered, ask how you feel about being watched, because my Beloved does like
watching, at the very least.”
Karkat squeaks. You shrug helplessly, finding the sound endearing more than
anything else.

===============================================================================

“You said she’d be here,” Karkat says, tone almost accusing as you lie on your
side and rub a hand on his shoulder.
“She is,” you smile, amused by the way he squints at the corners of the room,
trying to ignore the way he’s slowly relaxing under your touch. “But she
thought it’d be best if you could forget she’s there, for now.” You wait until
he’s facing you to arch an eyebrow. “That if you changed your mind, halfway,
you would find it harder to say so, with her out in the open.”
“I’m not going to change my mind,” he mutters, looking away from your face.
“…is she really okay with this?”
“The Great Huntress is very much okay with this, and would like to do more than
just watch, in fact,” a purring, seductive voice comes from all corners of the
block, and you chuckle a little as Karkat shivers and presses closer to you in
return. Your Beloved sighs contently. “But she’s quite content just to watch
for now~”
Karkat seems to have taken that as an invitation to get on with things, because
he kisses you abruptly, almost like an attack. You wrap your arms around him
and coax the kiss into something far gentler, and as you’ve noticed before, it
makes him squirm. It makes you a little sad to realize that while he welcomes
the softer, kinder touches you’ve given him, he also tenses up and rejects
them, almost afraid to have them. This time, however, you’re determined to show
him it’s okay to like things that aren’t violent and hurtful. You think he
wants it that way, too, but the way he shivers and tenses whenever he starts to
relax makes you feel he’s scared of enjoying himself.
And that just won’t do.
He tries to rush you, but you try your best to ignore his wandering hands and
instead concentrate on exploring his body and finding what he likes. He purrs
when you dig your fingers into his spine, coaxing tense muscles to relax, and
he chirps most endearingly when you thumb the modest swell of his thoracic fat
sacks. He’s much like you, in that respect, which is terribly redundant, but
you still notice anyway, and his are small and round, fitting easily within
your palm. You can feel wetness dripping onto your thigh, when he finally
starts mimicking your languid touches, petting your own chest with clumsy
fingers that are nonetheless adorable. When you kiss him again, he’s far more
receptive of it, returning the kiss in kind and no longer trying to turn it
frantic. You give him a nice, low moan when he reaches out to kiss the hooked
cartilage at the tip of your left thoracic fat sack, and then purr loudly when
he realizes that’s a sensitive area and wraps his mouth around the whole thing,
tongue pressing on the underside of the hook as he sucks on it.
“Ah,” you sigh, taking a moment to enjoy his efforts, “that’s really good.” You
smile down at him when he pauses for a moment, giving you a speculative look,
as if gauging how much of that was truth and how much was a lie to make him
feel better. Then he blushes brightly and falls on the right side of your
chest, with twice the enthusiasm, as if he has something to prove. “Here,” you
moan, giving ample warning as you slowly move your hands down his shoulders and
around his arms, “allow me.”
Karkat chirps in surprise, pulling away from your skin as your thumbs flick
against the tinier hooks on his chest and more moisture drips onto your thigh.
And then you can feel his bulge uncoiling from its sheath, groping blindly
against your thigh and making anticipation coil in your groin. He writhes
against you, arching his back and whining, but when he puts his hands on your
wrists, you stop immediately, waiting for him to catch his breath.
“I’m…” he mumbles, looking away and blushing hard, “I’m about to—“
“At your age is expected this wouldn’t take long,” you say, as kindly as you
can, and admit only to yourself that you find his squeak of embarrassment
actually adorable. “You won’t produce much slurry either, I don’t think. Or you
wouldn’t, if you were alive. Nonetheless, it needs not mean the end of the
experience, if you don’t want it to.”
“I just…” he trails off, trembling and panting for breath, and you’d be hard
pressed to invoke a more arousing image at the moment, without involving your
Beloved somehow.
“As you are,” you go on, taking pity on him and leaning in to brush an
affectionate kiss to his cheek, “I’m fairly certain you would climax before
being able to fully appreciate penetration.” He squeaks again, and you would be
embarrassed, having this conversation at any other time, but he’s tucking
himself to your side, nearly beneath you, and his bulge is lashing against your
thigh and it seems inappropriate to be embarrassed about discussing what you
wish to do with him. “So perhaps it would be best if I help you along
differently. My body is wholly at your disposal,” you add, grinning a bit when
he keens in the back of his throat, squirming and leaking a bit more
noticeably.
“Can…” Karkat swallows hard, writhing, and you want nothing more than to teach
him all you know, in the ways of enjoying himself, for who he is and without
resentment for what his body might be. “Can I… come inside you?”
You’ve talked about this well enough, set out boundaries and explained things,
and made Karkat walk out of a block with a flaming hot face more times than you
can count. Nonetheless, it still tastes like a victory that he asks, even
though you hope he’ll lose that nervousness eventually. You know he has it in
him, to let go and enjoy himself and be happy, you just need to coax it out,
bit by bit. You think this entire session will help, show him he can have
things he wants without the world punishing him for it.
“Certainly,” you purr for him, just because it makes him shiver and you rather
like the idea. You shift about, knees at each side of his waist, as if you
needed a reminder of how darn small he is, and how young he was, when he died.
It’s still a fleeting, but recurring ache, thinking about him dying. Perhaps
one day the ache will fade. “Is this alright?” You ask, holding yourself
upright and using a hand to pin your writhing, misbehaving bulge against your
groin, in the process baring the thick, well lubricated lips of your nook.
Karkat moans again, shivering and reaching out to hold your hips. Eyes going
from your nook to your face, he presses in slowly, as if expecting you to
change your mind. You throw your head back instead, closing your eyes and
moaning encouragingly as he slowly buries himself to the hilt inside you. He’s
not, by far, the largest you’ve ever had inside you. That dubious honor belongs
to a rather disagreeable troll that even death hasn’t managed to really mellow
out, despite you best attempts. But it’s hardly a matter of size, when Karkat
chirrs and whines beneath you, and every clench of your muscles makes him cry
out loudly. It’s not long before you can feel his bulge abruptly going stiff,
releasing his genetic material as close to your genebladder as it can. Despite
your predictions, Karkat pours a considerable amount of genetic material inside
you, making you moan as you feel your body taking in as much as it can. You can
hear the barest hint of a sigh, the only indication your Beloved is enjoying
this as much as you are, but you doubt Karkat registered it.
When he stops, lying back and gulping air desperately as he shudders in place,
you moan a bit as you feel his bulge slowly slip out of your body, leaving the
inner walls of your nook oversensitive and your own bulge twitchy. You’re not
overwhelmingly close to the edge, but certainly more eager for it, than you
were before Karkat filled you up so nicely. As a positive reinforcement for
such outstanding performance, you lean in and give him another languid, loving
kiss, followed by a trail of lips up to his ear. He turns to the side, burying
his face on the soft pile of pelts you’ve prepared for this situation, though
you can’t hide your satisfaction at the fact he’s turning to you, rather than
away.
“Would you like to continue, Karkat? Or has it been enough for now?” You take
extra care to make the question sound as little as a challenge as possible.
To his credit, Karkat seems to actually take a moment to think his answer,
before swallowing hard.
“I can take more,” he says, panting still as his chest heaves with each
desperate breath. He corrects himself, before you can even comment on it. “I
want more.”
“Alright,” you smile, leaning in to nuzzle the side of his face, which makes
him grunt somewhat, but you don’t second guess him.
Second guessing Karkat ends in disaster, you’ve learned, and the last thing you
really want is for him to be in pain of any kind. So you lean in and nuzzle his
face and then his neck, slowly pressing your body back against him, letting him
get used to the feeling. He chirrs in the back of his throat, when your bulge
squirms against his groin, but you wait a bit longer, until his breathing has
slowed and deepened somewhat. Then you start the excruciatingly slow process of
sliding your bulge into him, and it’s made tortuous twofold: because he is
legitimately tight and small and narrow, muscles clenching instinctively around
you in a way that lights your spine on fire, and because you can see every it
in his face, every time his muscles give beyond what he thought possible. His
hands find your sides and your breathing hitches when he digs in his claws, the
further you press into him. You stop immediately, which only makes him claw
your skin harder, wordless cries falling easily from his mouth.
Tentatively, trying to focus on his pleasure lest your own overwhelms you, you
continue sliding forward until your hips are flushed with his. And then you
still, holding yourself above him to give him space to breathe, and just
relishing the maddening tightness of his nook. When his hands reach for your
chest again, you allow yourself a slow, sinuous movement inside him, and smile
with satisfaction as Karkat arches his back with a loud shriek. He responds
easily to your touch, though whenever you slow down out of concern over a
startled gasp or a stray curse, you find yourself the recipient of a barrage of
profanity that makes you blush a little.
You arch your back and let out a surprised moan of your own, when you feel your
Beloved draping herself on your back, her bulge thick and heavy, rubbing
lightly against the lips of your nook. You hadn’t forgotten about her – how
could you, even in the midst of pleasure like this? – but you hadn’t expected
her to step in like so. Karkat looks up at you both with wide eyes, though his
expression, as a whole, is hardly what one would call repulsed. Instead, he
licks his lips as he watches her mouth trail up your throat, and he squeaks
self-consciously when he meets her eyes.
“Is this okay?” she purrs, the tip of her bulge pressing against your entrance
insistently. “I can stop, if it bothers you.”
You physically stop yourself from whining a reply, since the question was
obviously not aimed at you.
“No,” Karkat croaks, swallowing hard, “no, it’s… it’s okay.”
The coils of her bulge are as familiar to you as your own, but they will never
not drive you insane with lust, pressing hard against every inch of sensitive
flesh around them, the tip reaching deep to tease the entrance of your
genebladder. Unlike Karkat, she has no trouble reaching every fold of muscle,
lashing sharply within you in a way that makes you sob. And then Karkat reaches
out, after a moment of gathering courage, and pulls you down for a fierce kiss,
his body clenching deliciously around you. Your Beloved purrs in satisfaction
as you shriek against his mouth and release as deep inside him as you can.
Karkat breaks the kiss long before you’re done, shuddering helplessly as you
continue to fill his expanding genebladder with your slurry. You slump back
into her arms when you’re done, boneless and still keenly aware of her bulge
tracing lazy waves deep inside you. It almost hurts, as sensitized as you are
from the resent climax, and you appreciate it when she gently pulls herself
away from your nook and allows you to fall onto the pelts next to Karkat, who
is likewise breathless and trembling. Without you in the way, however, you
notice with a mildly smug smirk the wide-eyed stare he gives your Beloved, as
she keeps her distance as promised. She’s gorgeous like this, aroused and
mischievous and slightly looming. Karkat’s eyes keep falling on the bulge
slowly twisting itself in knots between her legs. You’re about to say something
– offer some comfort or encouragement, perhaps – when he does something that
makes you throb to the core of your being: careful to keep his eyes on her, he
very pointedly spreads his thighs, baring his nook dripping with might or might
not be remnants of your slurry. His abdomen is already slightly distended,
bulging a little above his groin.
“If…” He stutters a little, looking small and vulnerable and pitiful, and given
the way your Beloved moans, she feels the same. “If you want,” he goes on,
swallowing hard. “It’s okay, I guess.”
“Such a good, lovely kitten,” she grins, crossing the distance with ease and
covering his body with hers. You watch with delight as she presses kisses to
his face and his mouth, and he’s more willing to take them, than before. “Why
don’t you tell my Beloved how it feels?” She asks, and you throb like an
exposed nerve, because she’s so good to you, always. She puts his hands on her
chest, guiding him into strong, kneading motions that make her groan as her
hips press more snuggly against his. “Perhaps that’ll be enough to coax him
into joining us again.”
“Oh fuck,” Karkat groans, slamming his head back as her bulge, considerably
larger and thicker than yours, begins to coil into him. “Oh fuck, you’re so
big.”
“Maybe you’re just a cute niblet,” she counters, teasing, and Karkat begins to
splutter but you can tell her bulge is now deeper in him because he dissolves
into a wanton moan, instead. “Maybe you’re just the right size.” Karkat chokes
on a sound suspiciously sob-like as her arms sneak around his shoulders and
lift him up and into her, pressing his face into her chest and using gravity to
help his body take her. “Such a good kitten,” she repeats, and from where
you’re lying on the soft bedding, you get a perfect view of the lips of his
nook, reddened and swollen as they stretch tightly around the girth of her
bulge. “Does it feel good?”
Karkat makes a noise that might have been intended as words, but clearly never
materialized. His frantic touching and the increasing volume of his cries is
answer enough, however. Your insides churn distractingly, dutifully informing
you that any moment you feel like picking up a pail, it’d be appreciated. You
ignore the feeling for the sake of watching them both fall apart together and
into each other. You shiver on reflex as your Beloved trembles and yowls in
pleasure, arching her spine in a way that gives away her release. Soon after,
Karkat convulses in her grasp, too soon for her to be done filling him up with
her share of slurry, and you find the notion that he crumbled while she did so
to be strangely arousing. She softens his fall, carefully placing him back on
the bedding and revealing the way his gut is swollen and full with slurry.
Karkat chirrs in the back of his throat, but when you try to kiss him in
reassurance he flinches away somewhat, so you realize it is purely
overstimulation making it hard for him to breathe.
You opt to give him space then, and tend to your Beloved instead. Karkat left a
trail of slurry all over her skin, and though you find yourself doubting your
ability to receive more pleasure from this session, you’re very willing to
continue giving it. Karkat makes a strangled noise, when your tongue begins
scrupulously cleaning every inch of skin covered in the remnants of his slurry,
but you don’t really pay attention, not with your Beloved arching her back to
offer herself to your ministrations.
You will never tire of the taste of her skin on your tongue or the small,
pleased sounds she makes, when you touch her like this. Your mouth pays tribute
to every curve and plane you can find, trailing after Karkat’s slurry, yes, but
also deviating at every possible chance to explore and love every part of her
you touch. As you drift lower and lower, one of her hands comes to your head,
fingering your hair and your horns and subtly nudging you to where you were
heading anyway, her groin. You mouth her bulge lovingly, licking and slurping
and delicately sucking on each cartilage bump along the ridge on the top.
“Go ahead,” your Beloved purrs, laughter in her voice as she slides her thighs
further apart and your mouth trails lower, “he’ll like that.”
You don’t quite realize it is not you she’s speaking to, until you feel
Karkat’s bulge once more pressing against your nook, just as you find yourself
kissing your Beloved’s. Time loses what little meaning it still has for you,
after that, as your entire existence is reduced to the intoxicating, addictive
taste on your tongue, and the endearingly awkward and tentative thrusts at your
back. You’re okay with that. You’re more than okay with it. Even if your body
protests the addendum of slurry when it was ready to release what was already
in it into a pail. Even when climax claims your Beloved with her bulge
partially down your throat and you can feel the rush of genetic material down
your throat and settling in your belly with a strange warmth.
Then it’s over and you’re bloated with a comforting, pleasant weight in your
gut, and you’re surprised Karkat had it in himself to put so much genetic
material in you to make you show, however slightly. Compared to him, however,
it’s nothing. Perhaps because of his size, the swelling in his body as a result
of the slurry churning inside him is obscene. He’s lying on his back, when you
gather enough of your pan to think coherent thoughts again, pressing his thighs
together in a way that’s painfully familiar to you. You look over and meet your
Beloved’s eyes, and though there’s amusement in them, there’s also
understanding.
“It’s okay,” you whisper, kneeling with your thighs wide apart enough she has
no trouble pressing the pail between them. “It’s okay to let go,” you tell
Karkat, and wait until he’s looking at you to teach by example.
Bright red gushes out of your nook in short spurs, but for once you’re certain
it’s not just your own. You sigh contently as your body gratefully returns to
normal, exhausted and satisfied beyond what you had hoped you’d feel, after
this. You purr a little as your Beloved presses a kiss to your shoulder, and
she giggles a little in return. You nearly lose yourselves in each other, but
Karkat makes a soft, whiny noise and you realize he’s still lying there,
bloated and gorgeous and all you want is wrap yourself around him and keep him
from harm. You reach out for him, and after one last nuzzle to the side of your
neck, so does your Beloved.
“What are you—“
“It’s a big pail,” you say, pulling the boy on his knees against your body, and
he shudders violently as you pet his back.
“It’s purrfectly alright,” your Beloved adds, sliding off your back so she can
hug Karkat more fully.
He sobs as slurry drips down his thighs into the pail in thick goops. He’s
still sobbing when he’s done, but he’s reaching out for you both, when you try
to kiss and pet and comfort him. When you hug him and he hugs back, you’re
certain this was not a mistake.

===============================================================================

After a while, and you can’t be certain how long that was, only that it was
enough for Karkat to become a frequent and always welcome guest to your
concupiscent escapades, a strange thing happens. Long enough time has passed
for you to realize that he fits perfectly between in the small spaces between
you and your Beloved, like he was made from bits and pieces of both of you,
explicitly for that purpose. That might be a dangerous thought to entertain,
but it comes hand in hand with something you can’t deny: Karkat is happy. His
happiness is different from yours, understated and almost secretive, but there
all the same. You don’t care how different or how similar from yours it is, so
long as it stays.
And it is in the wake of that realization – perhaps it is more of an
observation, Karkat, barefoot and relaxed, skipping stones in the lake and not
actively picking a fight with anything – that the strange thing happens, and
you need a moment to process the whole implications behind it, as you slowly
sit on the grass.
You’ve stopped expecting him to leave.
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