
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13097943.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Character:
      Karkat_Vantas, Sollux_Captor, Dave's_Bro_|_Beta_Dirk_Strider
  Additional Tags:
      This_is_unmittigated_garbage_and_I_mean_that_semi-lovingly, Dead_Dove:_Do
      Not_Eat, Earthternia, Karkat_has_trouble_with_quadrants_and_also_life
      choices, This_is_what_happens_when_you_leave_idiot_children_unsupervised
      and_told_to_get_laid_or_die
  Collections:
      Anonymous
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-22 Words: 5705
****** This Is Not Your Swan Song ******
by Anonymous
Summary
     Karkat has a problem. That problem is he's in love with his best
     friend, or, he hates him, or maybe it's a desire for gentle paps?
     Maybe he's just disgustingly lonely. Going to a club to get laid is
     absolutely the best way to deal with that, right? That's what he
     does.
     [This is unfinished, there is no resolution, I may never write more
     of it. Maybe someday I will look back on this and decide, yeah, I
     hate myself enough to revamp that old thing. Until then I just want
     this almost 6k monster out of my GDocs folder.]
Notes
     Gifted to TA because I love that nerd.
 
The meeting petters out and you wait for most of your friends to pack up their
dice and trollpads and gaming tomes, and once they're cleared out you approach
him. You feel like, you feel like this is a stupid idea. It is, it's the
stupidest idea you've ever had but damn it this... Ache, in your chest needs to
go. You can't figure out what you're doing wrong, almost everyone has paired up
at least, a few are fully quad-ed.
 
Sollux arches a brow at you because he thinks watching only the first series of
Space Travelers makes him cool. "What, if you're going to ask about the snacks
yes you can take them, but I keep the grubsauce with the spine bits."
 
"No, augh I'm not." You breathe in and look up because this is stupid. "I
wanted to know if we could have a private game. Like, I've been meaning to
build this character and I don't want him in an actual party. Yet, I guess." He
squints at you.
 
"What is he some kind of OP star eater? KK no one gives a shit what weird
backstory he has all we do is fuck our way through the galaxy and rack up
points killing shit." He stops when you click your teeth together in annoyance.
 
"No see I want the storyline, I want to get some character growth and sweeping
quests in without it devolving into a game of 'who can fill a pail with
everyone in the asteroid bar'. That's fun and all but the campaign is nothing
but side quests." You cross your arms and glare at the bored expression on his
face. He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.
 
He sighs.
 
"Sure, okay show me what you've got and I'll think of a universe and you can
build his stats from there. Can we do this over trollian?" He peers at you
wearily when you pull a face.
 
"No not really, I mean we could but-"
 
"But you want to get in character. Fine, okay, I'm open on grubnights and
hamdensnights and if you can't get here on either of those then take your dice
and play alien egg insertion for the whole four hours we would have been
campaigning."
 
You roll your eyes at him and let out a breath. "Okay then, I'll see you
tomorrow." You turn and grab the leftover snacks and drinks and stuff them in
your backpack. So far you're pretty sure no one has caught on, sollux doesn't
keep much food in his hive so they think he needs this shit, but he just eats
with the other psions below his block. You though, you don't have the credits
to supplement your incredibly shitty allowance. Sure they don't cull trolls
like you anymore, but they certainly don't give any high fucks about keeping
you alive. So you take the (mandatorily brought) snacks home so that you won't
start eating the furniture.
 
The walk home settles something in your nervous gut. He said okay to the game,
so he doesn't hate you so much he can't stand you, but you know he'd like to
bounce you off the walls sometimes. So, maybe you could push pitch and see what
he does. Or, well you can try, you've come to realize no amount of study or
practice is going to make it make sense when you really go for it. That's why
you fucked it up with terezi, and John, and... The previous calm upends and
leaves you feeling queasy. You can't do this, you can't, but if you don't then
you're a fucking failure to your race. You should be able to hook at least /
one/ quadrant.
 
Dinner is made up of nacho cheese dip and doritos, and a bowl of shellflakes.
It's not bad honestly, you’re more annoyed with the fact that all this human
food is nothing but carbs and its making you weak and squishy. You don't eat
enough meat, because no one brings meat and the meat your allowance consists of
is in a fucking can.
 
You watch a movie to push away your thoughts, a movie where everyone falls in
love and gets a bunch of money. Three more movies later and you’re finally
about to pass out. You’re going to do it. The screen clouds and blurs, your
eyes drooping down and you see... It's time to go to sollux's hive. How the
fuck you managed that one is beyond you.
 
A shirt change, a quick rinse with some tooth cleanser, and you grab your bag.
Private game, just you and him in his hive, miniature battle of wits. He’s an
absolute genius and he knows it about half the time, and you really want to
punch his face and if you're /lucky/ the opportunity will present itself and
everything will be that one step closer to being a happily ever after.
 
You breathe slowly as you walk, trying to calm your nerves. It's just a game,
holy shit, nothing might even come of it. Nothing probably will come of it, or
just- you look up and see sollux's hivestem, the stairwell outside just a
little intimidating but it's the only way up for a non-psion so you heft your
bag, and up you go. It's two zigzag flights of stairs per hive segment and
sollux lives all the way at the dizzyingly high top. His lusus could be heard
bellowing from the roof, which means sollux was going to feed it probably
before you even reached the top.
 
Sure enough, you get a few segments away before the bellowing stops and sollux
flits into view, covered in slobber and looking roughly like a wet kitten and a
Halloween craft skeleton made an ugly baby. You only know he's seen you when
your skin starts to tingle-burn burn ow- and you flip almost upside down out in
the open air where you could fall you could die holy shit you can't breathe.
You leave your gastric sack behind when you're yanked backwards and higher,
through his open window, and are shaking like your atoms are making a mad
attempt to unbond. His hive is warm and that's all you can process before you
just turn and shriek at him.
 
"Don't you ever do that again or I will personally reach up your chute and
strangle you from the inside, fuck, fuck, /fuck/ you!" He rolls his eyes
dramatically and zaps your nose so you sneeze.
 
"While you finish pissing yourself, I'm going to go take an actual shower,
because that's the only way to get this hell slime off. Brb." When the ablution
chamber door clicks shut you take a few steadying breaths and swallow hard,
willing your eyes to stop producing tears. Your skin still burns faintly but
not like sunburn, more like when you touch the wrong wall during a
thunderstorm. You've already taken everything out of your bag and set up in the
livingblock when he comes out in clean clothes and smelling like one of his
girlfriend's shampoo, probably feferi's since she seemed like the cleaner of
the two. It makes your throat clench up for a moment actually and you focus on
making sure the character sheet app didn't crash yet while you had your
trollpad locked.
 
"Alright so, I've got a world set up, lemme see your sheets." You hand him the
trollpad so he can scroll through and you see him pause at your notes. Not very
long, he's fast at reading and processing, but it's enough and its significant.
The hotspots in his eyes flick over the rim of his glasses and he arches a
brow.
 
"Really? This isn't something we can really do in person KK, this is, I can't
LARP this." He carelessly hands it back to you and threads his fingers together
under his chin.
 
"No its, you totally can it's not like it's an outrageous request just try-"
 
"You're a dense motherfucker and I'm willing to believe you don't honestly know
what you're asking for, I can be understanding sometimes, but holy fuck you
know I have a moirail, I legit cannot do this. Go ask ED, or a human. Go ask
some humans to play your kinky games."
 
You flush hotly and scowl, setting the trollpad on the awakejuice table. "It's
no kinkier than what you constantly send to my computer. And I'm not asking you
to cheat on Aradia holy shit that's the wrong quadrant you blind bozo-"
 
He snags the tech in an arch of red and holds it in front of your face. "Look
for me if you fucking will, at how you're asking for your character to go
through a few battles and shit and then, oh, what's this, a troll of the DM's
choosing helps him through the after effects of being a war hero-"
 
"It wasn't meant to be a huge part oh my god, that's not even the big sweeping-
"
 
"Right, wrong quadrant. But see when I get to the kismesitude part it's got so
many notes it's practically playing foursquare, ignoring flush /mostly/ and I
know that's only because you're scared of FF's trident-" You punch his knee and
he zaps you harder than he meant to by how all the tension fades from his face
and his hands come up. You suck in a harsh breath and close your eyes to let
the pain and heat ebb.
 
"shit- shit KK I didn't mean to do that, don't touch me without warning like
that you fucking assbag." Just as you're getting your chest and joints to stop
feeling weird he puts a hand on your shoulder and you realize rather vividly
that you can't do anything or you'll ruin it and lose this calm. So you look up
at him with as neutral an expression as you can manage.
 
"Okay, I'm sorry. But fuck you okay because I'm not trying to make this weird,
you could have just trained it into something more structured, you're not
actually an idiot so that should have been fucking obvious."
 
He sighs and leans back in his chair. "Yeah alright, let's start this shit and
if you make it weird I'm kicking you out and we'll maybe do this shit online."
 
So he brings your greenblooded fighter into the world and you play through a
few grind battles, then he starts the plot and you feel your pulse pick up
because he's obviously not going on easy mode. If you fuck up or miss something
your fighter is toast. Then he introduces the main enemy and you wet your lips
because while you never thought roleplay would be a thing you did regularly,
you have to admit you feel something dark pool in your thorax when he sneers at
you like that. It's not because he's someone else when he's doing this, it's
more that... It's not /you/ he's looking at, right now you're a competent
battle pawn and he's got some serious power over you and there’s a real /
chance/ here.
 
There's a point where you're alone with the main enemy, the pitch atmosphere
almost tangible between them, and you keep seeing sollux forcing himself not to
grin while the two of you fling underhand insults. And finally, finally he
reacts by bowling you over and baring his forearm down across your throat, knee
digging into your gut and you fucking shudder. It's not hard to play it off as
in character so you follow it up with a quick snarl.
 
"What, words failing you captain poisontongue?" There's no way he didn't get
that name from Terezi's shenanigans but you'll let it slide after only one day
of planning. He presses down so hard you wince and he let's off, holding your
tongue down in your mouth with a ball of psionic energy instead.
 
"No, but your sorry displays have been, like some sort of retarded
iridecencebird dipped in coal. I think it's time to step up our game." His
voice is a low simmer that makes it real hard for you not to act impulsively.
He has to know, by now anyway, and he hasn't stopped so maybe that means
something.
 
Keep it pitch vantas, you repeat that in your head as you throw his arm off
your throat and headbutt sollux, though you don't further aggress, because fuck
you want him over you again just angrier- he snarls and pins you against the
couch with his freaky lightshow, standing up to 'stride' towards you.  He's so
gangly it's more like shuffling over. He puts his foot on your stomach and
sneers down at you, fuck this is a nice view, then your everything hurts and
you can't breathe for a moment, trying to process the fact that sollux just
electrocuted you. You're shaking a little and his expression shifts to worry
until you start growling and struggling against his psionics.
 
"You just going to cheat your way through this shit or do you think you can
handle a proper one on one fight?" He presses his lips together until they thin
and he lowers himself down over you, straddling your stomach and oh-
 
Oh he's
 
Pressing his trapped but unsheathed bulge into the cushion of your gut. Your
mind goes blank because all you want right now is that, you want him, fuck you
really do but how do you, this is just a game.
 
"kk."
 
You just keep staring at him, face steadily growing hotter and you have to
swallow thickly before you start drooling on yourself because if there's one
surefire way to ruin the mood it'd be to fucking salivate all over the place.
 
"kk. Hey." He snaps his fingers in front of your face until you make a choked
little noise and smack his hand away. Oh. You’re not being held down anymore.
"shit, fuck, I'm sorry you weren't saying anything and you seemed really into
this before, did I freak you out-"
 
You surge up and kiss him so he'll stop thinking about backing out. Your horns
scrape against the couch as he leans hard into and over you and bites your
lips. Right, pitch, that’s what you're doing. It's black as coal in here, even
as you cup his face in your hands. Is that too red? You growl and bite at his
tongue, but you suck on the spot next and the way he groans is making it real
hard for you to concentrate. He digs his claws into your scalp and you grab his
hands, gripping them tight. Tight, yeah. Not really.
 
Suddenly he pulls away and you're trying to figure out what you did wrong while
he glares at you in a way that turns your libido to ice.
 
"You piece of shit."
 
"Fuck, sollux I didn't mean to, I was getting there-"
 
"Like hell you were! You were just getting to the part where we make out
passionately on the ground as if this was /flushed/."
 
You sit up but he shoves you down hard with his psi and that shouldn't make
your nook throb when he's so obviously platonically pissed off. "ngh- fuck you,
we can still make this pitch-" sollux shocks you again but harder, making you
short of breath afterward, eyes watering.
 
"You're fucked up, you're getting off on this aren't you? Smearing just enough
to make me legitimately angry and now when I could zap the shit out of you,
turn you into a goddamn vegetable, you just reek even more of sex. What the
fuck??" He slaps you and you don't look at him again because you had hoped he
wouldn't notice and now the shame was creeping up your spinal column. Sollux
stands up and starts crumpling up the game papers.
 
"out."
 
Your breath hitches and it aches to sit up but you have to fix this. "wait,
Sollux I didn't mean to, I swear this wasn't on purpose-" He rounds on you and
the expression on his face makes yours go pale.
 
"You didn't try hard enough not to! You cannot fuck with people's feelings just
because you don't /get/ it, fuck you, get out of my hive!" He shoves you with a
snap of psi and you rush to gather all your belongings. He follows you like a
pissed off ghoul until you're headed down the stairwell and trying not to look
down.
 
You end up clinging to the railing halfway down and just crying for a while,
because you're a useless piece of shit who can't even get the right quadrant.
You should be able to! Ignoring even your shitty inability to feel the lines
properly you should still be able to know where they are and not cross them,
remember the rules so you don't smear and vacillate. But nope, you fucked it up
and he's probably sick of dealing with you now.
 
You go home and lock all the doors and windows and settle in for a movie
marathon, a bag of yogurt covered stag beetles between your legs and a thick
blanket around your shoulders. It's one of those weird universe flop movies
where human will Smith and troll will Smith team up to learn about themselves
and be better to their various quadrants. It has you catharsis-bawling almost
the entire movie and by the end you're so drained you watch the rest of the
queue listlessly. In fact, you eventually space out and fall asleep with a
beetle wing stuck to the underside of your tongue and pasty dried yogurt oiling
your blunt claws.
 
*Someone has you trapped between them and the floor, teeth at your neck while
their bulge rubs against your clothed sheath until they get
boredfrustratedannoyed enough to claw your boxers out of the way and shove
inside. They broke in you think, they broke in and when you didn't have
anything worth stealing they pushed you down and ripped your clothes off. When
you struggle they laugh at you and slap you across the face, making your nook
throb and your bulge emerge. You can't make out what they're saying, it's too
quiet while the telegrub is too loud, but you hear the names they call you, how
desperate you must be to be begging for this. You're begging? You, yeah you
are, you're rutting against them and telling them not to stop don't stop don't
stop don't*
 
 You yelp and wake up with a pounding heart and your bulge disgustingly knotted
up in your underwear, half-empty bag of beetles smeared with genetic material.
 
This kind of dream has become more of a frequent thing for you than is probably
healthy, but even so, they're tamer than what you come up with while awake.
Which... Your mind drifts easily towards after your little stint with sollux.
What if he had gotten mad and wanted to show you why you shouldn't jump into
things being as fucked up as you are? You imagine him biting at your throat and
pinning you to the couch, psionics hot and hard when they wrench your legs open
and he rips the seam of your pants open just over your nook, just so he can
push his bulges into you without letting you move.
 
You shove your snacks and laptop to a safer place and grope your desperate
bulge as you let the image move on to him getting bored of you liking it,
pulling out and grabbing your hair to yank you over his lap to suck him off.
You grab your own hair and pull your bulge free to stroke it, grip tight. You
imagine him pouring down your throat, and not being satisfied. You... It's not
working, you can't really imagine him doing this to you, and your mind drifts
again. Terezi was a sore subject, equius wouldn't touch you and if he did you'd
die in a mangled heap, eridan... No, maybe if he was more like he tried to act.
You lose the moment and feel your bulge start to retract, so you give it up for
a lost cause.
 
This isn't going to work, just imagining things, sitting alone in your hive
tugging your wiggly. You need to go out and try something. There's plenty of
people willing to fuck without strings attached, just to satiate whatever
disgusting aberration in your soul is magnifying this, this /need/ to be put in
your place.
 
You just have to not wind up hurt or dead.
 
***
 
The thrum of the music reverberates down your spine as you enter The Mania and
weave through the crowd. Your loose-necked top and relatively flowy skirt
feeling like nothing more than excessively sheer towels after a shower and
you’re in the middle of a huge group of people; trolls, humans, carapacians,
hell you see some you can't figure in your head even. It's hard to tell
yourself that the attention you're getting isn't too much, that it's why you
came here in the first fucking place. The bass is starting to settle low in
your gut as you try not to look lost and wind up making eye contact with some
rando in a... The fuck is he wearing it's like a plastic jacket with spikes.
Well, he ends up within arms reach and smiles, putting a hand on your arm to
lead you closer to the speakers. You go because he smells good and his hands
are warm, which is different with how hot you run. His touch slides to your
hips as you get close enough to the soundsource for any words you might say to
be swallowed up entirely, shivering as he slips up behind you and pulls your
ass flush against his groin. It's no different than what anyone else around you
is doing but it still feels obscenely intimate.
 
He’s too gentle, his grip too loose and it would be so easy to call this off,
but the feeling of one hand sliding up under your shirt as he crowds your
entire back brings you down to the present again. He finds the grubscar
analogous with his mammalian nipples and squeezes and you grind back with the
intent to line up your outer nook sensors with the hard lump in his way too
tight pants. Lips graze your neck and he digs his fingertips into your hips as
he grinds against you, slow and hard to the slower bass tempo. Fuck. You’re
secreting so much preparation fluids it's got to be leaking down your thighs
past the hem of the skirt.
 
When you have the presence of mind to open your eyes you see the DJ's tongue
flick past his lips and he's looking in your direction, right? Right? You blink
and he's just gone and the music loses some of its flare. Hell, what a reaction
to getting caught staring. The human doing his best to fuck you through two
layers of clothing curses and pulls away, and when you turn to ask what his
damn problem is you see the DJ. tall but with a cocky slouch, lean muscle,
shades sharper than the spikes on your previous dance partner's jacket.
 
You snort at him and shift your weight from one foot to the other. "Who invited
you? Don't you have any fucking manners?" He smirks and jerks his chin for you
to follow and you hiss but can't seem to stop yourself because, because this
might be it, this might be as good as you've been daydreaming about. He leads
you just outside the club's side door and you think he's kicking you out until
he grabs a fistful of the shirt between your shoulder blades and hauls you up
against the brick wall, pressed tighter to your back than the other human.
 
His fingertips brush your thigh and you suck in a breath as they move up to
smear your lubricant across your sheath and nook and wastechute, one movement
with the rough press of his thumb. Teeth meet your ear and pinch the flesh in a
way that shoots straight to your groin.
 
"nice little sluts like you are always a bonus around here. I'm going to fuck
you until I blow my load, and you can try to keep up." Metal jangles as he
undoes his belt, then flips your skirt up and shoves himself right in, deep as
he pleases and you feel /metal/ rub against your pleasure ridge. He slows his
intrusion as he gets deeper, the fat tip of him grinding against your shame
globes. Your eyes squeeze shut while you pant harshly against the grimy bricks,
then he pulls out and you wonder if that's really all humans go for before he
shoves back in, forcing a chirp out of you. He groans out a laugh and bites
your other ear, sucking on the elongated tip.
 
"you've never been fucked by a human before, hunh? Or is that at all?" He jerks
into you shallow and harsh and you can only gasp and reach back to grab his
arms, claws first. He twists your hair and shoves your face harder into the
bricks until you let go, and then he pulls out slow in that way that feels like
you're never going to be full again. The DJ starts up this teeth-grinding
rhythm where he fucks in hard and fast and pulls out slow, sometimes all the
way to smear your wastechute with lubricant, pushing the head against your hole
enough to make you squirm. When he pushes in deep the next time, what has to be
his finger pushes and wiggles up your chute and you can only curse at him until
he thrusts shallow and cruel against your shame globes.
 
"I got preferences, kid. You come into my club salivating for cock then I'll
give it to you but it's gonna be how I like it." That gets you hotter than it
really should and when he starts probing your ass again his other hand starts
to palm your bulge, crowding it into a lump against your groin before squeezing
it. His dick slides between your legs to get good and wet before the tip prods
your waste chute again. This time he presses in while squeezing your bulge and
everything's just so slippery he manages to get a couple inches in before you
clamp down tight and /whine/.
 
He grabs your thighs and spreads them before pushing your upper body tighter to
the wall as he pulls out, only to thrust back in deeper while you're relaxing
in relief. You yelp and start breathing harder, vision blurring over with
tears. He does it one more time while stroking your bulge and manages to get
his hips flush with your ass, freaky human shame globes brushing your skin.
 
"mmmmmhh fuck you're tight, how old are you?" He pulls out slow and re-lubes
his cock, sliding in deep again while you struggle to remember your age in
years.
 
"Ah, ss, fuck. Seventeen. Ahh, Seventeen years." He pauses, throbbed inside you
while his fingers idly rub your tip in a way that's making your nook flutter.
 
"Well shit, close enough I guess." with that he starts thrusting again, faster
than before and with a lot more ease now that your waste chute's all slick with
your own desperation fluids. Your face is so hot the bricks you're shoved
against are starting to warm slightly and you can't seem to stop crying. It
feels good, it feels really fucking good but it's got your pump biscuit going a
thousand beats per second and you want to scream because it's so intimate and
you don't know him and it’s all pooling together in your guts like fire honey.
 
"hah, ah, fast-ter. Fuck you, fuck me, faster. " He groans and complies easily,
fucking you like it's a damn race. He doesn't go much longer though, shoves in
so hard you chirp and deposits his pathetic amount of genetic material up in
you. Not even in your material bladder, fucker just came in your ass. He pulls
out and lets you slide to the ground with your bulge still searching for touch.
You whine and he laughs.
 
"told you to try and keep up, I gotta get back to my post but you can keep
dancing, find someone else to fuck your brains out." He saunters back through
the side door and out of sight while you pant and wipe your face dry. You...
Don't go back in. Actually you go home and take a hot shower, feeling more
disgusted with yourself than what you just did. Or rather, because of what you
did. You let some random human push you into an alley and fuck you up the waste
chute, and God it felt good, it's what you wanted, but not quite. There was
still a good chance for you to tell him no, he didn't tease you for very long
or really make you do much at all. Three fingers up your nook later you wish
you knew his name, because moaning "DJ" is the stupidest thing you've allowed
yourself to do tonight. It's better than "human" but only marginally.
 
Your dreams that day and the next are plagued with images of your friends, of
strangers, of movie stars coaxing you into their clutches. You've picked and
thought and psychoanalyzed every dream and passing thought, and come to the
conclusion that you're just lonely. You're straight up, pump biscuit in a
press-strainer lonely. The nights have passed into weeks of you hiding in your
hive and ignoring every invitation to leave. The snark you've been throwing has
made a few of your friends even talk less to you, and sollux has even blocked
you for posterity. All of this just makes it hurt worse and eventually you find
yourself at the club again. This time you've got on sinfully thin leggings and
the same loose sweater as before, which gets you those interested glances. This
time someone buys you a drink, some sort of cinnamon pineapple syrup. It coats
your tongue and sticks to your lips and teeth, sticks to your wrist and sleeve
when you get jostled around towards the speakers. This time it's a troll, a
tall blueblood with long hair and rumblespheres that make you feel inadequate,
but she seems content to pull you close and grab two rough handfuls of your ass
until you wrap your arms around her neck. Her chest cushions your throat as she
pulls one of your horns into her chilly mouth, rubbing the wet spot where the
tights are sticking to every fold of your nook. The room is lopsided in your
head, half is small and cold and pressing in against you while the other half
is spacious and buzzing with noise and heat. Nectar weighs your tongue down
heavy in your mouth as she touches you, rubs and prods and teases until you rut
into her hand and pull on her hair, saliva pooling in your mouth and leaking
out the corner of your mouth slightly.
 
Then someone yanks you away and throws you stumbling into the stage stairs to
grab your dance partner and kiss her, pitch as obsidian. They don't even spare
you another glance as you pull yourself up and stumble back to the floor over a
mess of wires. Everything spins and blurs while you crawl along the line of the
stage until you find the stairs and sit down for a while. You are so turned on
and so tipsy at the same time you can hardly think the entire time you sit
there and gasp for air. Someone puts a cold drink in your hands and helps you
gulp it down, sour bite of sugary human energy drink filling your senses.
Vaguely familiar hands help you up and out of the noise and light, pulling you
into a room behind the stage. Looking up reveals the DJ with the shades
sporting a cocky grin.
 
"Come back finally? What is it, you come here when your partner makes other
plans?" His eyebrows pop when you laugh so hard you have to hold yourself up
with his shirt.
 
"partner? Fuckin... /no/, m'single as hell. I'm here cause I want uh. Wanna get
lucky, yknow." He wets his lips and eyes you.
 
"This going to start being a regular thing? Cause as much as I'd love to have
another go at you, I'm kind of busy." You bite your lip and shrug.
 
"not asking you to fuck me, never did. B'sides you're too nice, want someone to
take it." Your words slur and you reach down to grab the lump of your
unsheathed bulge through your leggings, leaning hard against the human as your
breath shakes. He wraps an arm around you to hold you up and watch you.
 
"take it, you mean you came here to get raped. You want someone to grab you and
fuck you without being nice or asking first." You swear his voice deepens, hand
moving down to your hip when you nod.
 
"fuck yeah. Not rape if I want it though." You grin at him and let go of your
bulge to grab his crotch instead, feeling the stiff heat of his very interested
cock twitch. His other hand comes up to grab your jaw, palm pressing hard into
your throat.
 
"I could tie you down y’know. This ain't a very good position for you to be in,
do you get that? Or are you just the kind of slut who don't like
responsibility? You want someone else to throw you around and fuck you their
way." He gets close enough for you to be breathing his air and you decide
you're done talking, you want him to touch you already.
 
"Hey loser, tell me when you're done with the power trip and ready to stick
your dick in me again." You hear him laugh before grabbing your shirt and
dragging you to the door, shoving you back into the throng.
 
"Go get your kicks from someone more desperate, and don't puke on my set or
I’ll kick your ass."
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