
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7302367.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      Multi, M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Dave_Strider/Karkat_Vantas
  Character:
      Dave_Strider, Karkat_Vantas, Rose_Lalonde
  Additional Tags:
      Xenobiology, discovering_of_one's_sexuality, one_here_means_karkat,
      Implied/Referenced_Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced_Child_Abuse, all_of
      the_bad_stuff_is_in_the_past_though, this_is_50_percent_fluff_50_percent
      porn_50_percent_awkward_mental_dialogue, this_is_the_most_embarrassing
      thing_i've_ever_written, but_it_was_also_pretty_cool_so_ye
  Collections:
      Drone_Season_2016
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-06-25 Words: 18771
****** Wanderlust (tiny right things) ******
by AliveArsenic
Summary
     Adolescence really is all about making new friends, playing video
     games, dying a couple of times, being stuck on a meteor floating
     through space, exploring your sexuality, crushing on foreign alien
     guys with absurd genitalia.
     Yes. Probably.
Notes
     Hi !! So I'm your secret writer for this Drone Season... God, I have
     so much to tell you !! First of all, thanks for your prompts, they
     were all so nice ! I really had a hard time to decide which one to
     pick, but in the end I went for the Davekat one because exploring
     sexuality, and what it means to become sexually active... Is actually
     something I wanted to work on for a while. This was my first time
     writing Dave (and writing in English at all, it's not my first
     language, so I hope I didn't do too many mistakes ahah) so I hope
     it'll still be okay. I wanted to make a comic at first, but some
     things just didn't make sense translated on paper, so I had to write
     it !
     I gotta admit, this is not as porn-y as it could have been, it's more
     like... Yeah, discovering sex. i tried to include most things from
     your prompt (including the over-use of parenthesis). I still hope
     you'll like it ! :o Well, we'll see each other again at the end of
     the thing. See you !
See the end of the work for more notes
 
It’s black and white and suddenly it’s red, too.
Pink at the centre, a tender glow like a small fire stuck in a jar; purple on
the far edges, slick paint all over sharp things. But it’s mostly red and
Karkat finds out that he doesn’t mind, because for once he thinks things are
moving in the right direction (upwards, ascending) and, well, it’s good. It’s a
good thing.
He doesn’t tell anyone, though. It’s stupid (no it’s not, look at how many
things he’s fucked up in the past just by opening his goddamned chomp hole) but
he fears that talking about it would spoil, somehow, this weird and unfamiliar
feeling of rightness.
Yes – talking would wrong it, maybe. It would change its course so it wouldn’t
go up anymore, but down, nowhere, disappear in the vast void of space.  
He doesn’t want this to happen. So, for once, he keeps quiet, and he waits.
===============================================================================
 
                                      10
- Hey, says Dave from his side of the room.
- What? Karkat snaps back.
He’s ready for one of his endless questions-and-answers games, or a
philosophical banter about whatever absurd concept he has in mind right now
(Karkat can’t say he doesn’t find those interesting, though).
They’ve spent the last twenty minutes in comfortable quietness. It happens more
often lately, which is nice, Karkat thinks, because he had never really reached
that point in a relationship with anyone before (or maybe Sollux, but still, it
wasn’t the same. Not as... Wholesome). Plus, after a couple of sweeps stuck on
a floating meteor with the same persons, tranquillity is always welcomed.
He is currently picking up the pieces of a tea set Terezi has broken last day
because yes, sometimes, he does his share of chores, thank you very much, this
meteor isn’t going to clean itself; Dave is doing... Whatever he does when no
one speaks to him, which is looking at the ceiling and mumbling to himself (he
says he finds the sound of his own voice soothing. Karkat has stopped worrying
a long time ago).
The silence lasts. Karkat looks up and throw a glance at Dave. He still hasn’t
answered and that is not particularly reassuring.
- I said what, he repeats.
- I know, says Dave.
Things are definitely weird.
- Dave? he asks, approaching him carefully (but not too much, because that’d be
even weirder, like, they’ve barely settled in the red quadrant and Karkat is
already starting to think it won’t be enough, and it’s strange, and it freaks
him out, and he doesn’t want to think about it just yet, so. Not too careful.)
- Yeah, I could hear you perfectly well from the other side of the room, and by
other side I mean those twenty centimetres of pure and crispy air between us. I
know it’s hard to believe, but what can I say, we Striders always had had
reality-defying abilities.
Okay, this, Karkat knows, he can play along, yeah, that’s easy.
 - Will you please do us all a favour and finally stop talking about you like
you’re some kind of smokesniffing disdainful alien deity, when everybody knows
you’re a living walking fuckcrumpet with an ego the size of the pile of garbage
you blurt out every god-forsaken time you open your mouth?
And then he punches him (but not too hard, because remember the thing about not
rushing things up earlier? Yeah.)
- Kinky, replies Dave with a smile (that odious motherfucker), but then he
bites his lower lip and Karkat’s answer vanishes in his mouth before it even
gets a chance to get out.
Suddenly, he’s made very aware of how close they are, and how stupidly Dave’s
hair stick out on his nape, and of the way he smells, a basic and almost dusty
humansmell and hey, is he blushing? God, he’s totally blushing.
There’s a warmth in his chest, his fingers, that he tries to suppress. Now’s
not the time, he tells himself, and it half-works.
(It’d probably work better without the pretty intense eye-contact though.)
But when he finally decides to go and sit somewhere else because as he said,
now’s not the time, Dave also decides to stop chewing on his own skin and opens
his mouth:
- Let’s try it again.
===============================================================================
 
                                       1
Karkat feels like somehow, he should have seen it coming.
Although why or how, he doesn’t know. It’s just there.
They’ve been stuck on this stupid meteor for around ten or eleven lunar cycles
now, or so he thinks, approximately half a sweep. Right now they’re almost done
with mapping the whole thing, and Kanaya and Rose have been trying to make the
living room more comfy (the labs are huge, but dark and empty, and that’s
creepy). Vriska as usual is gone “talking” with Terezi (Karkat is positive
they’re pale flirting but he doesn’t want to pry, no he doesn’t), so now it’s
only him, Rose, and Dave.
Something must have broken off in the installation, the AC or something (why
would these labs even have AC in the first place?), and Karkat is pretty sure
he’s never felt this hot in his entire lifespan. Which is, admittedly, not
much, but still. They still have to find what caused the damage... And,
eventually, repair it (but none of them is a technician, and really, even
though the guy was an egocentric classicist douche, Karkat misses Equius
sometimes).
Lying on the cold metal floor (thanks goodness for stereotypically creepy
laboratories thank you so much), he’s half listening to Dave and Rose’s
conversation. He could go somewhere else, technically, but it feels like his
legs have turned into wriggler jelly food and he probably wouldn’t be able to
get in his room without passing out because it is so goddamn hot. So staying
there it is.
It’s a small consolation, but Rose seem to suffer from the heat as much as he
does (and his Land was a fucking volcano, let’s not forget this). Only Dave
looks okay with how things are going – he must be used to heat. Shirtless, and
only a little sweaty, he’s sitting next to him, talking to a visibly not-
interested Rose like he doesn’t care (and maybe he doesn’t? Karkat still hasn’t
analysed the subtleties of the humans’ “familial” relationship. He only knows
one thing: it’s fucking gross that’s what it is.)
Humans are fucking gross all the time, Karkat thinks whilst looking at Dave.
Even physically speaking. Brown skin under white hair, such a weird colour
palette, none of that grey softness of young trolls, or the pure, slick black
of old ones like he’s seen in the movies. No contrasts, no gradients, only
colours on colours, golden on brown on ochre on pink around the ribcage where
the sweat glimmers. Their veins are blue, Karkat notes, under that weird skin
of theirs. It’s even grosser. He’s grossed out. Everyone is.
Dave’s fingers are long, thin like an indigo’s, somebody who doesn’t use their
own hands to fight. Karkat can’t help but be slightly amazed by how short his
claws are. There are scars around his wrists, on the inside of his thighs, and
a long one on his chest too, and maybe if humans had had the good idea to let
their claws grow, they would have known how to defend themselves, for god’s
sake.
Humans are gross, for sure, and upsettingly pathetically frail and fragile, and
Karkat is still looking at Dave’s hands and Dave’s scar on his chest that
follow the curve of his bones when he talks, a faint, shameful shade of red,
dusted with dark freckles like those of a seadweller, except he’s not, of
fucking course.
The grossest part is that they’re not even that different from trolls, but they
are, in small, stupid, meaningless ways.
It’s almost against his will that his eyes follow the thin trail of white hair
going down on Dave’s flat stomach, the one that disappears under his pants –
another great big question because okay, the short claws, humans have no basic
survival instinct, he can get this. But hair? On your body? Isn’t head hair
enough? What the everlasting fuckwere they thinking when they all trashpuking
baboons created their dumb human universe? They should have made a better job.
“Does it go even lower?” Karkat can’t help but ask himself, for science,
because hair around your bulge and nook would be terribly unpractical and
retain fluid. But then again, maybe humans... Don’t have bulges? They’re brown
and pink and have round pupils like fish and they don’t see in the dark, so,
maybe they’ve pushed the alien-ness this far and...?
That’d be even weirder than everything else. Yep. Definitely weird.
And he’s. Still staring.
Karkat can feel his insides heating up and slowly turning to mush, acutely
conscious of his too-wide eyes and his barely moving chest. As much as he’d
like to stop, he just can’t tear his eyes away from Dave Strider’s hands, and
Dave Strider’s chest, who keeps being brown and white and like, what? What?
What does this even mean? Does Karkat have a fondness for aliens or something?
Is that it? The punch-line to this awful parody of a life that he’s playing
right now? Seven sweeps to get there? To get a crush on an alien guy who thinks
he’s hot stuff? No way! No way.
It can’t be true. It’d be horrible. It’d be disastrous. It’d be illegal. It’s
probably like... Bestiality, or something. Humans are born bipeds. It’s
ridiculous.
“But what about John?” a small treacherous voice asks in his head – well, hey,
it’s clearly different! Whatever he felt about John was purely sentimental –
like he could have felt any kind of physical attraction to this trashy
dirtlicking dickweed, right? Because he didn’t? Right?
(Wait. Didn’t he?)
- What do you think, Karkat? Dave suddenly asks him (what was he even talking
about?), and turns to him with his mouth slightly open on his stupid round
alien teeth, and to his absolute horror, Karkat feels his bulge wiggle happily
inside his sheath (shit shit shit shit shit).
- Right, he croaks.
His sexual awakening is being provoked by a foreign creature from outer space.
Everything is awful and he wants to die.
===============================================================================
 
                                       8
When Karkat manages to break the kiss, and gather all of his strength to ask
Dave if he wants to do anything more (which clearly is an euphemism for I’ve
been having sexual fantasies about you for like forever now and I want to touch
you so much it hurts sometimes, but he’s seven and a half sweeps, so euphemisms
are nice), he’s almost too busy marvelling at the fact he didn’t spontaneously
combust or anything to register his answer:
- Oh, yeah, sure. Why are you even asking in the first place?
And then Dave laughs. It’s a short, brief laugh that Karkat has never heard
before. It doesn’t sound hopeful, or relieved, or mad; if anything, a bit
hollow. It’s not... Exactly what he was expecting (well, he doesn’t really know
what he was expecting, but not this, clearly, not this.)
Karkat’s confusion increases when Dave gets up and starts to undress, lazily,
as if he didn’t care, as if everything was perfectly cool, and as if he wasn’t
going to have sex with an alien – come on, was Karkat the only one to freak out
here?
But then, he notices the tension in his arms, and how stiff Dave’s neck is, and
yes, something is wrong with this situation, and all of Karkat’s enthusiasm
disappears and leave place for some kind of vague fear, a worry he can’t
explain.
-Wait, he tells Dave.
He’s almost finished undressing. His socks and pants are still on and he’s
currently putting away his trousers. It’s too methodical, so carefully not-
prepared that it’s obviously all fake. A sour taste spreads in Karkat’s mouth.
- What?
- What are you doing? Karkat asks.
Dave frowns:
- Well, what do you think I’m doing? Don’t you want to have sex or something?
Karkat is relieved to see that even though he’s the only blushing like crazy,
Dave’s ears are also quite red, because that’s one shitty embarrassing
situation here – but he does his best to not get too distracted and tries to
gather all of the data he’s acquired on human sexuality (did he do something
wrong? Is that how it’s supposed to go?):
- Well, I don’t know, he says slowly. You look kind of, well, not really cool
with that. And, also, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be the one to undress
you.
Dave’s eyebrows are now raised in puzzlement:
- What do you mean, “I’m pretty sure?”
Karkat takes one second to try and make a nice sentence out of “I’ve been
looking at an extensive collection of videos of your species wildly fucking in
all kind of places to be sure I wouldn’t do anything stupid”. He gives up the
second later.
- Let’s not talk about this right now, okay? This is already pretty awkward
like that and wow, okay, I’m making it worse. Okay, like, of course I don’t
know about the way humans have sex, but it seems...
- Wait, because trolls have special ways to have sex? Dave asks, looking really
perplexed now, and maybe almost panicking, and surprisingly enough that doesn’t
improve Karkat’s mood:
- I don’t know! I mean, yeah, it’s probably different, but you’re the human
right here, I’m just trying to make things work between us, okay?
- Well, I was doing the right thing!   
Oh fuck, was he?
Dave almost looks reassured. It could be okay. But his hands are still
clutching his trousers, white bones under brown skin, and Karkat still has this
weight in his stomach, this sourness in between his teeth. So no, he decides,
something is still up.
- Karkat, can you stop panicking for one second? I know how it goes, okay?
- But, I’m just saying, from what I’ve seen the guys were there and then...
Then he gets it:
- What do you mean, you know how it goes? he asks.
He’s never seen Dave’s face close up this fast.
Dread makes his stomach twist as he looks up to see Dave’s eyes, and Dave’s
eyes are not meeting his, looking at the floor instead, and fuck, he’s messed
up, he’s messed up, things are fucked up and he’s the one who did it, fuck,
what is going on?
Karkat quickly thinks about it. When Dave entered the game, he was about his
age, and he’s not one for shaming (just look at his weird repulsive self) but
six sweeps is a young age to fool around with the people you like. Did he date
people during the game? Very quickly they were the only ones on the meteor and
okay, did Dave have sex with... Who? Karkat’s never seen him hanging around
anyone, except maybe for Rose (but that’d be weird for humans, right?) and
Terezi. But then again, Dave wouldn’t look like this if it was only about
Terezi, right?
His face is the most expressionless thing he’s ever seen (worse than the first
half sweep in his company, so young, so sarcastic, so utterly and completely
alone). For one moment, it seems he’s going to run away. Karkat is almost sure
he sees the thought going through his mind.
But then he grits his teeth, and Karkat has to listen very carefully to hear:
- What is it you wanted to do?
What is it he...?
He doesn’t know. He tries to be honest (there’s no time for insults and double-
entendres and innuendos, it’s time to spit the truth, because the situation is
Very Wrong and he doesn’t want Dave to feel Very Wrong):
- I’m not really sure. Whatever you would have liked, I suppose. Um, it’d have
felt really nice, personally? To do something you would have enjoyed? I mean,
it’s maybe not really the time to discuss all of this, but, ah – you know.
Dave finally meets his eyes: the expressionless facade falls off to reveal pure
confusion. “He doesn’t understand”, Karkat tells himself, and it’s nauseating
for a reason he doesn’t quite grasp, makes him angry, make him worried:
- What were you going to do?
Dave shrugs.
- You know.
- No, actually, I don’t.
- Well, I just. You know. Let you do your thing.
Then he shrugs again, and his shoulders slump a little as he sits on the floor,
and he’s not crying and he’s not talking but he looks so deeply miserable, legs
too long for his arms, brown skin and all, the face of someone who wants to
talk and cannot and maybe doesn’t want to at the same time, uneasy, awkward,
and Karkat has never felt more pity in his life, for anyone, ever.
This adds up nicely to his pent-up anger and Karkat just, kind of explodes:
- Okay, first of all, which braindead fuckmunchkin has ever taught you anything
about romance, because let me tell you about Wrongville, well guess what that’s
where they’re standing right now, the pathetic rotten dingus, as an official
new town member they’re hereby removed of the privilege to teach anything to
kids.
Dave opens his mouth to protest (Karkat knows he will if he let him), and he
cuts him, because he has to say something, he can’t just let him here and what?
What did that mean, “let you do your thing”? No, that’s not right, it’s not:
- Second: this, right here, was fifty shades of fucked-up. It was fucked-up,
okay? Let’s not tiptoe around the issue like we’re polite and stuff, I even
propose we fucking smash that issue because okay, wow, Dave, what was that?
What did you think, that I was going to, what, use you as some kind of living
sex-doll? Oh, wait, shit, is – is that what you’re into? Did I watch the wrong
stuff?
- The wrong stuff? Dave repeats with a faint smile.
- You’re deflecting.
- You’re deflecting.
- I said, let’s not talk about right now!
- You wanted honesty. I’m honest. Did you watch human porn so you’d be prepared
for a possible encounter with our genitalia?
It’s even weirder when he says it.
- Educated, Karkat mumbles (his ears are probably brick red by now, fuck his
blood, fuck his whole body, why is he even justifying himself in the first
place?). I was trying to get educated. It was for science, Dave. Strictly
educational purposes.
- Sure thing.
Dave’s smile is a bit steadier now, and Karkat notes that some of the tension
in his shoulders is gone. They’re not sitting very close: Karkat makes a
conscious effort to leave him be, leave him some space, so he doesn’t feel
pressured or threatened or anything.
Dave scratches the back of his head and laughs again. It’s embarrassed, and
maybe a bit forced, but it’s better than the strange, horrible hollow sound
he’s made before.
- I’m touched, he says.
- You better be. I’ve seen some pretty weird things.
- Weird like what?
- Weird like I don’t want to talk about it ever.
- Ever?
- Ever. A big, enthusiastic, definitive ever.
- Okay, okay, but then you have to answer this, my dude: do you like dicks?
It’s probably a joke, but at the same time, it doesn’t really feel like one.
That’d be a very Dave thing to do, ask a big question and pass it out as some
irony bullshit. Yeah, that’d make sense. Karkat makes sure to choose his words
with care:
- Yeah, I think so. Do you?
It’s definitely not the most brilliant thing he’s ever said, but Dave’s face
does that thing where suddenly, a hundred different emotions follow each other,
furrowing his brow, twisting his mouth, shaping him like he’s so soft and
malleable. That thing that makes Karkat want to hold him close and speak softly
to him and wow, hey, that thought is kind of pale, isn’t it? He was about to
pail the guy ten minutes ago, what about consistency? But then again, this is
rapidly turning into a feeling jam, and from what he’s seen humans like mashing
quadrants together, like it’s perfectly normal to wear soft robes and talk
about your deepest inner thoughts and seconds later wildly fuck each other on a
table, yes, nothing’s wrong with this picture, nothing to worry about Ma’am.
Dave finally seems to find his voice back after a while:
- Oh, well. I don’t know. It’s complicated. I’m not sure I like. Anyone, in
that way.
- Oh, Karkat says, trying his best not to sound completely devastated.
But he must have failed somewhere (how could he? Him, the master of disguise?)
because Dave immediately adds:
- It’s not that I. Don’t want. It’s just that it’s... I just don’t know
anything about. How all of this truly goes. Apparently?
- Well – I don’t know. I’m not saying that you’re wrong, it’s just that you
look – you don’t look really okay with how things are going, and...
- No. No, I’m wrong. I’m wrong. This is wrong. This was all wrong. All of it.
Wrong. I’m wrong. So wrong. Fuck.
Inhale, exhale, then he keeps going on:
- All right, you deserve to hear it. It’s all a... Work in progress. I had a
suspicion for a while that I wasn’t... Maybe the way I was taught this stuff
was... A bit fucked-up?  So I simply don’t know. And that’s why I don’t... Like
anything. At least, not really? Maybe a bit. Some stuff. But. Yeah, I. I’ve
done some thinking recently, and I’ve got to keep. Keep thinking about it for a
while. Maybe talk about it with someone. Like, uh. Rose maybe. Or, well.
Someone.
Karkat really wants to say “me, please tell me, what is wrong, what happened to
you, how can I help, is there a way to help you at all”, but he doesn’t. Partly
because Dave looks like he’s making an intense effort to get those words out,
as if his body was working against him, and he doesn’t want to make him say
what he cannot say yet. Partly because that’s already a lot to take in, and
maybe they can do this later. And yeah, partly because if Dave talks again
Karkat is pretty sure it’ll become his dutyto shooshpap him and they’ll both
probably cry and okay, let’s stop the wild diamond fantasies here, it’s steamy
enough as it is.
(Dave’s thinking about it. About whatever shady stuff happened to him. That’s
good, Karkat realises, that’s good because if the issue had come up a sweep
earlier Dave would have straight-up attacked him (he remembers terrible
conversations about human sexuality and gender and broken things and angry
silences) but no. Not now. They’ve grown up, grown out of things.)
So instead he says:
- Okay. It’s okay. I’m okay with this. Don’t – apologise or anything. It’s
okay. Do what you have to do. We’ll talk about this later. Or... Whenever. It’s
okay.
Dave’s shoulders slump again, but this time it’s in relief:
- Good, he sighs out.
The way he says it, so relieved, like he thought Karkat was going to get mad,
makes Karkat’s bloodpusher beat faster – Dave lived through something very
shitty for sure, something that Karkat doesn’t want to happen to him ever
again, and damn... This is what pity feels like, he thinks in shock.
- Good, he repeats.
It’s true. It’s good. He’s good with this.
There’s a small moment of silence between them. Dave is the first one to speak
again:
- Still. I can’t believe you had to watch porn from our internet so you could
know what we looked like down there.
Karkat groans. Way to ruin the moment, Strider.
- I told you – I wanted to be prepared. What did you want? Given the way humans
look, I’d have taken a peek at the thing and probably collapsed or something.
- Hey, it’s not that bad, is it?
- It’s – well, no, it’s not, I mean, once you get used to it, it’s not.
Dave smirks, and Karkat snarls:
- Spare me your judgment, Strider, I’m doing my best to make things work! It’s
not easy getting to know the genitalia of another sentient species without
looking like the biggest creep the universe has ever seen!
- Nah, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just cute. It’s... Such an alien thing to do.
Star Trek weirdness level I tell you. John would cream his pants, that shit is
downright his lane. Does that mean you don’t have dicks at all? Or... Vaginas,
or whatever?
Dave does his best to not look interested, but Karkat knows him better than
that now. And maybe that’s also a way to subtly redeem himself or whatever he
thinks he has to do. Show that he’s not completely insensible. He decides to
play along:
- Oh, yeah, what if we didn’t?
- Dude, cut the mystery bullshit, you totally have to tell me. You can’t keep
that a secret. I’ll ask Terezi, you know. Or Vriska. You don’t want me to ask
Vriska, do you?
- I don’t know. I think it’s nice if you discover it on your own. It’s fair.
- No, it’s not fair, it’s not fair at all, we can’t do the good old “I’ll show
you mine if you show me yours”, I’m feeling really disadvantaged right now.
- Gee, Strider, your life sure is complicated.
- Come on, you can’t leave me hanging like this.
- Why, because that’d make you so immensely uncomfortable you’d rather stop
talking to me, crushed by the weight of shame? Or because you find troll
anatomy painfully bizarre and uselessly stupid, yet incomprehensibly hot and
attractive, and sometimes look at our horns or chests and think “damn, I know
it’s fucked-up but I’d tap that”?
(The blush spreads on Dave’s cheeks at light speed and Karkat can’t help
feeling a little satisfied with himself.)
===============================================================================
 
                                       6
- And there, Dave says (pointing to the fuckton of buttons on his device and
probably thinking about a very particular one), you control the length of the
actual beat sound, which coupled with this one (he points to another button
Karkat can’t see) can make it go long, then short, because you’ve cut it into
two different parts, you remember?
- Yeah, yeah, I do, you’ve literally said it a minute ago.
- Well you can never be too sure. It’s pretty complicated stuff, you know. A
long-lost science. I’m the last person alive to detain the subtleties of music-
making.
- Wow, please excuse my earlier disrespect, Strider the great Threnodealer, I
was too baffled by your complete lack of shame when it comes to describing
yourself that for one second I forgot who I was talking to.
Dave flicks Karkat’s shoulder, playfully (probably playfully, platonically
playfully):
- Karkat, man, we’re talking business. We’re talking forgotten knowledge! Pay
some attention, like okay I know I’m absolutely irresistible and wildly stupid
or something like this, but can you keep your blatant black crush on hold for
an hour?
- As if anyone would actually admire you enough to possibly sustain the black
sparks concerning your pathetic sickening life. All humans are weak as pure
soft oinkbeast shit and you perfectly know this. There’s no way for a
respectable and self-loving troll to one day conceive any kind of hate for your
useless cakesniffing species.
- What about Vriska and Rose?
- What didn’t you understand about respectable and self-loving?
Dave fakes drying a single tear on his cheek and gets more comfortable on the
couch. Judging by how things are going, they’re not going to get up at all
today, because once Dave will be finished showing off with his insane music
skills (okay, Karkat must admit that he thinks it’s actually pretty cool, and
Dave has proposed they make music together, which sounds fun) Karkat really
wants to show him the fourth movie in the “AYTFHSOAMAFLITPOAYAFACDS” series
that he’s refused to see last week because “it wasn’t the right time”. Well
guess what Strider, today’s the day!
Karkat is (unsurprisingly) okay with this.
Not because he secretly hopes it’ll evolve into some kind of confession scene,
rapidly turning into a first interspecies pail session, or anything.
Okay, that... Didn’t sound very sincere.
Dave keeps on talking about his human music machine and Karkat follows with as
much attention as he can give him, which is a lot, but not as much as he’d like
to, because he can’t help thinking about other things – and that’s actually
frustrating! First because he really wants to share Dave’s interests and know
more about him; second, because when the shameful object of your sexual urges
is sitting right next to you, thigh against thigh, firm and soft and close,
it’s hard to keep it in your pants.
(Focus, Karkat. Focus!)
It’s getting ridiculous.
A summary is in order.
Much to Karkat’s horror, the more Dave and he spend time together, the more he
finds himself to like the guy. Truly like him.
Sometimes he reminds him of Sollux, which makes him a bit nostalgic (he misses
him, really, he does), but Dave has a special, unmistakable way of talking, and
of keeping silent, that Karkat likes for itself.
He’s not going to lie: for the first half-sweep or so, Dave was kind of hitting
on his nerves. He was brutal, and cynical, and sarcastic, and dry, and
aggressive, typically the kind of guy Karkat cannot stand because he’s not even
a tiny bit sincere with others, nor with himself, and that’s also totally who
past-him was, fuck that guy, anyway, moving on.
But he’s made progresses. They both did. Karkat has seen Dave grow up, mellow
out, his voice get freaking hilarious for a while then come back to normalcy;
slowly, gradually, they had stopped exchanging cold looks and tried to talk to
each other, because, yeah... There’s not really much to do here, is there?
(Karkat cannot say he wasn’t a tiny bit pleased with this, because his Human
fantasies had quickly evolved into Dave-only fantasies for absolutely no
reason, so he was relieved to get to know the person behind the alien body – it
made him feel less like a creepy pervert and more like a young hormonal troll
with a very hot friend.)
(An extremely hot alien friend. Hm.)
The first thing they do as newfound acquaintances is to watch together this
pile of DVDs Vriska has found in the corner of one of the labs. It turns out
it’s a slightly lame, but endearing Alternian TV show about time-travel neither
of them had seen before. Because no one else joins their sessions, they’re the
only one who can discuss it properly.
It’s slightly awkward at first, as all friendships start off, and gets easier
with time. Karkat discovers Dave can provide with surprisingly good insight on
character development. It makes him a good movie-buddy. He sucks at analysing
relationships, though, but he’s confident he’ll learn some day.
So it kind of starts like this. They watch this show together (there is nine
seasons of it, they both discreetly tear up during the finale). They reference
it together during breakfast; they bicker about who is going to get the remote
to press the next button. They make small talk during the breaks; they both try
and alchemise popcorn to make it more official (it doesn’t work, they end up
eating human noodles and spill oil on the cushions, and it’s the first time
they laugh together without anyone else to hear).
Dave’s immature. Kind of gross too, in this particular human way Karkat’s
getting used to. And he’s funny, yeah, although he still has difficulties
getting when he’s joking or not (like with this leaves bullshit, okay,
apparently humans eat plants for fun? But it’s actually really poisonous and
they do it to prove their superiority over each other? Is that shit real? It
looks too complicated to be true. And Rose eats too much “salad” or whatever
for it to be really dangerous).
Karkat is also surprised by how cleverDave is (even though he seems to be
ashamed of it, when really Karkat thinks it’s one of his most brilliant
qualities). Sure, he has his bad days; he gets cold and distant and sometimes
really violent, too. But they spend more time together, and now Karkat can tell
when Dave is down (it’s in his eyes, vacant look behind the shades, carefully
constructed inexpressive face), so he does his best.
They both do their best.
(That’s where the part with black, white and unexpected sudden red (like a
blood flood, blood in the sea, blood in his veins, flowing full of life) comes
in.)
Karkat feels like he’s changing. Evolving, maybe. Ascending in a sense. He
likes it. It feels right. His friendship with Dave feels right. Every so often,
he faintly remembers something that may or may not have happened; a time where
they did not connect, they did not even try, and when he thinks about it... He
gets a little sad.
But here, on this particular plane of time and space, they’re alive, and
they’re friends. Karkat thinks he’s lucky.
(That’s when he decides to not talk about it, and just wait.)
In the end, Dave is very brave, and very cool (but don’t tell him though), and
very fucking annoying. And Dave, as Karkat discovers when he first sees him
having a panic attack (dark room, red blood everywhere, and it’s not his fault,
he broke something all right, but now there’s his blood everywhere and Dave
cannot stop freaking out even though it’s okay, really, it’s okay, it doesn’t
even hurt, wait are you crying?), may be a tiny bit fucked-up too.
And oh, he feels his bloodpusher swell when he thinks about it, and then, he
knows he’s done for, because there’s the admiration part, right, and the
compassion part, sure, and all of this together looks an awful lot like pity.
Pity? For a human guy? Yeah.
And that’s funny, because Karkat is starting to think he’s fallen back into
some kind of... Ancient troll feral state, when heat cycles were A Thing. So
red feelings were just what he needed to flesh out his developing sexual
fantasies (hint, it was irony. It’s not funny. It’s dramatic.)
Yeah. About the sex. Well.
Karkat keeps dreaming. Getting nightdreams, daydreams, whatever, point is, he
can’t stop himself and it’s borderline absurd how many of his dreams are about
Dave Strider, and about him, getting it on with Dave Strider. Do all of his
troll friends dream so much about sex? He’s not actually sure they do.
Clearly he shouldn’t have seen those videos. Damn you, natural curiosity! Now
he can’t stop playing them in his head, and it merges with what he discovers
everyday about humans, about Dave, and he’s horrified whenever he looks at him
and thinks, shit, what does his dick feels like?
(From what he’s read and seen it’s supposed to be hard, but what does hard
mean? How hard? Bulges are slick and soft, most of them, sneaky things covered
in material and they coil and bend delicately, and dicks don’t look like this.
They’re pink and weird and unbelievably solid, he can’t get his head around
it.)
He wonders what it would feel like inside him – fuck, he can’t even do that
thing humans do and... Finger his nook or anything to get an idea because hello
trusty claws, okay, maybe the humans didn’t have such stupid ideas sometimes,
but god, Karkat would die to know how it feels like, to have Dave inside him,
to have Dave fucking him (yes, fuck yes) because how different could it be? How
different is it?
One day, he and Dave spend the night on the couch because they’ve just watched
a horror movie, and both agree walking around alone in dark and creepy labs is
probably not safe. When Karkat wakes up, Dave is dead asleep on top of him, an
inert warm mass weighting on his chest, shades out of place and drool on his
chin (such trust, Karkat can’t believe it) and he wonders what it’d feel like
to have Dave riding him. He dreams of the flush on his face and of his mouth
opening on those absurdly soft teeth –
(oh shit, how would it feel like to have Dave suck his bulge like humans do
with each other? Trolls can’t do this because of their teeth, and the simple
idea is making Karkat’s blood boil because it’s so weird, so impossibly red and
pale and black at the same time, so fucked-up, so alien, and it’s probably so
good too because Dave has nice full lips and it’s probably very soft, very hot
too, ah –).
He wants Dave to be as humanely happy as possible. Now that he’s used to seeing
him relaxed and smiling, with the smile that does things to his stomach, Karkat
finds himself wishing to be a reason for him to smile, and moan like humans do,
and feel nice like humans do.
He’d show him, yeah, he’d show him what bulges can do, and he knows now that
humans do produce genetic material (not much, though, and they don’t keep it
anywhere for later, that’s interesting, he’ll have to ask Rose about it
someday) so he also wants to taste it, because it’s different, and because it’d
mean something, maybe, Karkat doesn’t really know.
The thing is... He’s a bit ashamed of all of it. Not because it’s weird or
anything! The first initial humiliation, of liking people who weren’t even part
of his species, is long gone (mostly because it became clear at some point that
everyone had a xeno kink on this stupid meteor).
No – he’s ashamed because he feels like Dave is barely coming out of this shell
of faked detachment he gets in when he feels threatened, and trusts him,
somehow, now, not to be an enemy. So it’s complicated to break the news about
his ever-developing sexual fantasies. It’d surely come off as a bit...
Predatory. Maybe? Or just plain weird. Bad in any case.
(Furthermore, Dave probably just sees him as a friend. Karkat knows how uneasy
he gets when the topic of sexuality comes up in their conversations. Getting to
the point he can sleep in the same room as him is already great.
It’s great, and it feels awful.)
Anyway, long story short: Karkat’s xeno crush happened to be a decent person
and now he thinks he pities him and also, right now, Dave’s hand is resting on
his leg and is that actually happening?
- Karkat? Hey, are you all right?
- Hm? Yeah. All right. Sure. Why? Why are you asking?
- You’re, uh, making that weird sort of cricket noise. Been making it for a
solid minute now. Can’t you hear it?
Karkat is suddenly very, very glad he’s the only troll in the room (he’s been
making it out loud, for fuck’s sake this is getting out of control). He tries
to hide his embarrassment behind an insulted tirade:
- Jesus, Dave, I can’t believe you, do you really have no basic idea of how us
trolls work at all? Have you been around us lately or do you just have so much
shit oozing out from all of your sensorial orifices you can’t even register the
simplest thing in your close environment? We chirp all the time, you offensive
moron, it’s like, troll bodily function 101, don’t tell me you’ve never
noticed?
- Well, forgive me, I’m not writing down all the weird stuff your alien species
does when they’re alone, I’m not like Rose, I’ve got a life, I’m a busy man!
- Sure you are, Karkat says, and then quickly tries to change the subject: I
was listening, you know. No need to stop every time I blink in case I’ve been
sending Morse messages to my distant untamed cousins.
- You don’t even know Morse.
- Like hell I don’t. I’m the Morse master. I’m so good at Morse, you wouldn’t
even believe it.
- Yeah, right, says Dave.
Then he goes back to talking. His hand is still on Karkat’s leg, he’s forgotten
about it. It’s soft and harmless and very light. Karkat makes sure he doesn’t
look at it, but at one point Dave moves slightly and their eyes meet and
they’re both, suddenly, very conscious of how close they are.
Dave looks down, then up.
- I don’t mind, Karkat says hastily. It’s okay, it’s cool, I –
- You’re doing it again, Dave replies. The cricket sound.
- Ah. Hm.
He’s blushing, he’s blushing so hard it feels like his whole face is on fire,
and Dave just keeps looking at him – he’s going to get it, he’s not stupid, and
could his throat stop making that sound now, thank you?
- I don’t really control it.
- Oh, yeah, well. It’s okay. I don’t mind either.
He looks so sincere. So genuine. It must mean something. It must mean...
- Oh, Karkat says softly. Okay.
He’s so fucked. He’s so fucked.
===============================================================================
 
                                       4
Of course Sollux also had to download their entire porn industry because
otherwise, it wouldn’t have been funny.
Karkat cannot believe he’s doing this. The only porn he’s ever seen was a
(admittedly awful) pale video cut from an old movie, and a strange “artsy”
black romance leading to a sex scene with too many fadeouts. At the time, he
didn’t really get what the fuss was all about (although he knew there was
something to the sex concept, he just... Didn’t fully grasp it.)
But what about now? Is he okay with it? Does he really want to go there?
The answer is actually quite clear in his mind – yes. Yes, he does. Not because
he feels pressured to do so (and it’s true, even though he’d have been less
than half a sweep away from reaching Pailing Duties if he’d lived on Alternia),
but because, hey, he kind of want to discover that stuff on his own, now.
Of course, he knows that porn isn’t how you learn about your bodies, it’s only
fiction, all of these things. But what else can he do? Go to Dave, say “hey,
would you mind getting naked and engage in sexual intercourse with me so I can
learn about human anatomy first-hand?” Or Rose, for that matter, Karkat isn’t
actually picky. Anyway, it probably wouldn’t work, and – no, okay, he should
not be thinking about it in the first place, all right? It’s not a matter of
being sexually active. It’s a matter of knowing: so he goes, he watches, he
learns, he never comes back ever again.
Yeah. Good plan. He’s ready. He’s going to do it. Just so you watch.
Karkat clicks on the link, opens the window, is faced with at least a dozen ads
of unbelievably huge human bulges, lets an undignified squeal out and promptly
logs the fuck off.
He’s left alone with his legs shaking and his bloodpusher wildly beating in his
chest, laptop burning his thighs, its fan whirling like crazy.
Well. It didn’t exactly go as planned.
Karkat doesn’t try it again for a whole lunar cycle – doesn’t even want to
think about it, doesn’t look at his computer, doesn’t look at Dave Strider or
Rose Lalonde, just doesn’t do anything. But after a while, slowly, temptation
creeps back from wherever it hid itself in Karkat’s mind, and with it reappear
the fantasies, the wild thoughts, the maddening curiosity – the desire to learn
what this is all about, learn about himself too.
He comes back, one night, when he’s sure everyone else is asleep. The links are
always there – he knows what to do. He’s prepared now.
He clicks. Ads pop up. He grits his teeth, and calmly (sooo fucking calm)
closes the windows, one by one, so he’s only left with the original website.
And now, he can do whatever he wanted to do.
Wow, humans sure have weird classification categories, he tells himself, and
softly snicker in the dark, a bit nervously, as he scrolls down this list of
absurd human porn concepts (it’s both embarrassing and kind of exciting; it’s a
very peculiar feeling, but it’s not particularly bad, either).
There’s so much he doesn’t know – fuck, it’s human porn, he’s watching human
porn when he barely knows his own species, is that fucked-up ? – so he just
ends up picking something that doesn’t sound too dramatic or foreign.
He clicks on play.
He ends up watching five videos in a row.
It’s only when the sixth one automatically starts that he blinks, comes back to
his senses, and a pure rush of panic makes him remove his laptop battery in one
swift motion so everything can just stop.
The computer’s screen makes a tiny “pzoo” sound and turns to black. Karkat
feels his blood pumping in his ears, his hands shaking, cold air on his sclera.
The silence in the room seems awfully heavy, all of a sudden. The computer’s
battery is burning his hand.
Okay. Okay. Calm down, now, dude. Let’s... Let’s just summarise what you’ve
seen.
What has he seen?
Humans are so fucked-up. So fucked-up. He’s not even turned on at this point
because it was just so fucking bizarre, there was no place for anything like
desire in his mind: all available space had been taken by an infinite ribbon of
tiny interrogation marks, exactly like these: ?????
The first thing that comes to his mind now is: shit, humans sure like to mix up
quadrants. Those last two – male and female, he’s pretty sure of it – weren’t
acting red at all (at least not for the first thirty seconds), like please,
have some decency, what were you doing cuddling on this couch like a picture-
perfect diamond pair?
Second thing – holy shit... Holy shit. The fuck are those noises. The fuck are
those teeth. The fuck are humans. They suck on each other’s bulges, oh god – oh
god, this is so alien, but of course they can, no fangs, soft tongue, fuck, of
course they can...
Males really do not have nooks. Now that’s a pity, because honestly, Karkat
thinks nooks are kind of neat – but instead they have those strange dick bulges
and what, what the fuck, it goes in their arse? Karkat is lost, Karkat’s
confused, because it’s so different, okay? It’s so different from what he’s
used to. Eyes, faces, moans, chests – it’s not at all like what he’s been
taught by his lusus.
And yet! And yet, fuck – Karkat can’t help but imagine – fuck, he’s the worst,
the worst friend, the worst troll, but there’s no one there and he indulges,
for one second, in the thought of Dave Strider muffling his cries into his
shirt and – fuck, he’s actually turned on by alien pornography, no, not even
pornography, but by the idea of a guy he barely knows bending over a table –
fuck, fuck, it may have been kind of hot in the end, fuck his life, fuck
everything, fuck his bulge and fuck the hand that goes down to meet it – fuck.
He bites into the flesh of his other hand so he doesn’t make a noise when he
gets off; then swears he’ll never do this, ever again.
It works for another whole lunar cycle. Then Karkat wakes up in the middle of
the night, vision blurred by fading images of bright-red cheekbones and too-
pale legs, shrugs, and once and for all – gives up on forgetting about it. It’s
there. It’s awful. He can’t do anything about it. Well.
He’s used to live in shame anyway.
===============================================================================
 
                                       9
- Morning, he tells Dave who just appearified in the living room.
Dave stops dead in his track and looks at him like he’s grown a second pair of
horns overnight. Karkat, reflexively, pats his own head to make sure (hey,
that’s how it happened for Sollux, you’re never safe from that kind of thing).
But Dave keeps looking, and Karkat can feel the beginning of a flush creeping
on his cheeks.
- Got a problem? he asks, as politely as he can.
Dave suddenly looks like he’s been shocked awake. His eyes drop to the floor
and he mumbles something Karkat barely understands:
- Nothing. Morning to you, too.
Well, this is going to be embarrassing.
Karkat throws a glance across the room, but no, no one’s around. It’s probably
still a bit early, and everyone’s asleep.
Dave comes back to the table with a cup of coffee. He still doesn’t meet his
eyes, and Karkat is growing worried, of course he is, but he can’t just ask
what the deal is, right, or does he, isn’t it how relationships work, you talk
to each other, stuff like this?
Hopefully Dave provides with a solution to his internal dilemma by talking
first:
- Hey. I’ve been wondering. About last time.
(Last time, what the fuck does last time mean, when is last time? Can he be any
vaguer? Like hey, dude, you’re the Knight of Time, the first thing you could do
is try and be precise when you speak, Jesus –)
- You know. You said you had tried to know more about human things. Like sex.
Oh. That last time.
Well it’s been a while since the whole sex debacle; maybe two lunar cycles or
so, so it’s no wonder Karkat didn’t get it right off the bat. But still, it’s
surprising! He wasn’t expecting this to come up at all:
- Oh, yeah, that. Well, to be honest it’s already been a while, I haven’t
watched anything lately, so if you’re really not okay with this –
- No, no, that’s not what I was talking about. I. I wanted to apologise,
because I... Might not have understood that you were, like, really different.
And also, that you would have wanted. To have sex with me at some point. Hm.
Dave’s words look painful to say. Karkat know he stutters when he’s nervous: it
must be really bad, then. He’s pushing so hard, he tries so much, Karkat knows
it, and he’s amazed by how much strength it must have taken him to just think
about all of this.
- Well, the thing is. I. Thought I had to see how it was, for you, too.
Because. It might get useful at some point, right? So I – in the end, I didn’t
ask Vriska, because shit, that would have been terrible. So I just. Kind of.
Saw for myself.
Dave is serious, and it’s a serious talk, yet he just can’t help it: slowly, a
grin spreads on his lips, and Dave looks twice as awkward (he’s usually so
composed, so suave and shit, Karkat really thinks it’s funny as hell, and also
maybe a tiny bit endearing).
- Well, well, Mr Strider, I clearly remember you mocking my admittedly pathetic
attempts at “interspecies communication”, yet there you are, over a disgusting
alchemised coffee, and saying – what? You’ve been watching naughty things on
our part of the Internet, is that so?
- I think the word you’ve used was “getting educated”, he replies, that little
shit.
But he’s grinning too, and some of the awkwardness fades away as they both
smile at each other, somewhat embarrassed, somewhat excited.
- So, Karkat says slowly, what did you think?
Dave’s ears go red, but he doesn’t flinch:
- You know me. Always been dreaming about the day I could finally live through
a real-life hentai and get a tentacle dick up my arse in a dark backstreet
alley.
- Careful, your obvious kink is showing. And yes, before you ask, I know what a
hentai is, don’t try to play all human with me so I’ll ask you “gee, Dave, what
is that strange vocabulary you’re using?” You’ve been spending too much time
with Rose.
- Yes, clearly I’ve been underestimating you, you already know so much about us
poor pink monkeys, how could I dream to teach you anything at all? And I don’t
actually have a tentacle kink, god, Karkat, who do you think I am?
- Don’t play dumb with me. Rose and you are cut from the same cloth, I could
see you reading over her shoulder whenever she opened those huge pseudo-
grimdark books that everyone knows are full of horroterror porn. Watching,
learning. You were obviously very much into it.
- All right, all right, you want honesty? I – I actually like the noises you
trolls make. They’re funny. You know, the –
He clicks his tongue in a poor imitation of a troll’s chirp and Karkat snorts.
- What, do you maybe think your weird whale sounds are better than ours?
- Offensive much? As one of the last members of a dead species I think it’s
really insulting. Moaning rules. So much cooler and expressive than your dying
cicada cries.
- It’s because you can’t understand the finesse of the modulations, cretin. If
you were a troll you’d find this totally hot and sexy, which it is.
Dave laughs again.
- Trolls are such a mess. Cat-like eyes? Tentacle dicks? Insect-like babies?
Can’t you be a tiny bit constant?
- You compare them with what you know, you big ball of dried bulgesweat.
Technically we came before your earth beasts, so they copied us; we called dibs
on the two sets of eyelids.
- Hey, are all bulges that big in real life?
- How big?
Dave raises his arm, and Karkat instinctively shivers:
- Dude, no. That’s way too big. No. No, no, no. What have you been watching?
- Does that mean troll porn actors have this special alien Viagra that make
their inner octopus go crazy? Wait, do you also have ads on the side with
clickbait titles like “how to get your bulge bigger in ten easy steps?”
- The size of your bulge depends on your blood colour, actually, it’s
genetically determined because given the temperature of the genetic material –
- Gross.
- You’re gross. Shut up, it’s biology. The thing is, the colder the material,
the lower it’ll go in the slurry, so same-cast material generally meet there.
And as you’ve probably seen, genetic material is released by the nook when put
in contact with the bulge’s natural fluid, so slender highblood bulges make it
go out slower. Plus, they’re naturally cold-blooded, and you’re kind of
supposed to reproduce with people your rank. Anyways, it’s complicated.
- Highbloods, they’re the one with a ton of them, right?
- Seadwellers only. We lowly landdwellers do not carry horroterrors in our
pants, thank you very much.
- Hm.
A comfortable silence falls. It’s full of questions in suspension, unsaid
words, which Karkat savours like the smell of oncoming rain. It’s surprisingly
nice, talking about... All of this, with someone that doesn’t just raise their
eyebrows and say “well, that’s interesting” (looking at you, Rose Lalonde). But
someone who actually understands. Yes. It’s nice.
Then Dave speaks again:
- Since we’re already talking about this. Last time. I. You also asked. About
how I got this idea of sex. Like, who taught me... Made me believe things.
Karkat feels his blood turn to ice. His answer is immediate:
- Hey, Dave, it’s okay, you know, if you don’t want to talk about it, I’m not
mad or anything, if you –
- No, but. You were right. It was fucked-up, right? It’s still fucked-up. Like.
I’ve got this. Understanding of things, and I think it’s. Pretty warped. By
stuff that happened before. Hm.
He inhales deeply. All previous giddiness is gone. Karkat has fallen very, very
silent. He understands something is playing itself out in front of him, inside
of Dave, and if he speaks over him, he might not say anything ever again.
It looks terribly painful and Dave has to try a couple of times before it
finally gets out:
- Do you remember. About my bro?
Karkat bites his lips, hard, to make sure he doesn’t make the tiniest sound but
it’s probable that his throat betrays him, once again, and Dave looks up, an
unreadable expression on his face.
- I. I’ve been. Thinking. About... The way he raised me. And I... Maybe,
sometimes, things got... A bit ugly. Not all the time. But... Sometimes. In
some occasions.
He does his best to keep silent, he does, he really does.
Yeah, he remembers Dave’s bro – how could he not? – and he remembers how Dave
used to praise him for his cleverness, his irony, his heroicness, too. But now
that he thinks about it, Dave seems to have dropped the habit. Karkat doesn’t
think the subject has come up in a long time, as if Dave had tried to forget
about it. Maybe he did.
His bro? What the fuck, it’s basically the equivalent of a lusus, how can
someone do this, how can anyone? Dave was probably just a kid, no, he was a
kid, no probabilities involved, and shit, to become like this it must not have
happened only one time, right? Right? And what was he thinking – wasn’t it
important enough? Did he think Karkat wouldn’t care about this? Did he think he
wouldn’t believe him? What the fuck, Dave? What the –
- Why didn’t you tell me before? Karkat finally snaps, unable to hold it in any
longer.
Dave suddenly looks terribly angry and Karkat knows he’s made a mistake:
- I’m sorry, he spits, it’s kind of hard to make it come up in a casual
conversation. Hey Karkat! Nice morning, isn’t it? Did I ever tell you about
that time my brother raped me in the bathr...
He doesn’t finish the sentence. His voice dies out, and his eyes are wide, wide
open – much like his, probably, and they both stare in horror at each other,
mouths slightly open, unable to speak, nor move.
Dave is not a child anymore but he’s young, they’re both young, it should not
have happened, and Karkat is at a loss for words, thoughts, everything.
What are you even supposed to say in that situation?
Eventually, he’s the first one to move. He gets up of his chair and goes up to
Dave, which is still looking in front of him, immobile and silent. His hand is
wrapped around the fabric of his shirt. His breathing makes no sound. Karkat
notices all of this and doesn’t know what to do.
- Hey, he says softly.
His voice sounds strange. As if he shouldn’t have raised it at all.
- I don’t... Really know what to say. I...
- It’s okay, Dave murmurs.
He still hasn’t moved one inch. Karkat raises his hand then doubts himself:
- Is it – is it okay? If I touch you?
Dave nods, and leaves a place for him on his chair. They sit side by side.
Karkat puts his hand on Dave’s: it’s cold, yet he can feel the blood pumping
through his veins, the skin rising almost imperceptibly with every beat his
heart takes.
- Hey, he repeats.
His throat closes up, and he has to make a specific clicking sound so he can
speak again.
- I’m... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said this.
- It’s okay.
- It must have been... Really hard. Not only living it, but also, talking about
it. If that mean anything, I think... It think you’re kind of brave.
Dave’s lips curl into a brief, faint smile.
- And, adds Karkat (bloodpusher beating so fast it’s hard to breathe), I...
Well, I know it’s going to sound really fucking stupid, as in downright
comical, so you have the right to get mad. But, yeah. It’s... It’s going to be
okay. Like, I know it’s hard to believe and you’re probably not feeling that
good at the moment but I swear I’ll help you be okay – if you want to, of
course, I mean, there are many people here that would like to help you, like
Rose, and all your friends, so you don’t have to chose a pitiful fuckface like
me but if you ever did, I’ll try, so yeah –
Dave’s shoulders slump. Karkat holds his hand tighter and speaks faster, a bit
panicked:
- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, fuck, I didn’t mean to do anything wrong, I swear, I
was just saying that you’ve already done so much and it’s probably better than
before, I mean I hope it is, and it’s going to be better, someday, probably,
shit Dave I’m so sorry I –
- Oh my god, Karkat, shut up.
He’s said that through gritted teeth, head low. The hand that is not under
Karkat’s is gripping the chair’s seat so hard the joints of his fingers are
bone-white. He’s a kid, Karkat repeats in his head, he’s a kid, seven and a
half sweeps, both of them and he doesn’t know what kids say when they learn
something like this.
Something pushes him to ask:
- Are we –are we not friends anymore because of stuff I’ve said?
It makes Dave laugh, very shortly, once again through closed teeth.
- Karkat. What do you think.
- Well, I don’t really know.
- Of course. Of fucking course we’re still friends.
- Oh. Right.
Then Dave starts to cry. Pitiful, heavy sobs that he desperately tries to
repress, hiccups shaking his chest. He grinds his teeth and shakes his head,
and it’s useless: absurdly huge tears fall down his cheeks, childlike, when
he’s not so young anymore, when he should still be.
It breaks Karkat’s heart so all he can do is shoosh him as gently as he can,
and tell him “it’ll be okay, it’ll be okay, it’ll get better, we’ll make it
better, you’ll be better, you already are”.
“I’m just doing what he’s done for me”, he tells himself. “I was fucked-up and
paranoid and bitter and I got better. I want to help, too, now. I truly do.”
Dave doesn’t cry for long, though, he’s not that kind of person. The game has
shaped him, changed him; it made them grow up fast, now they’re too busy to
cry. Too strong: they’ve seen too much. Yes, Karkat is right: they’re young.
But they’re also gods and universe creators and survivors, and they’re proud,
and stupid, and teenagers too. So Dave doesn’t cry for long.
However, when he is done, he holds Karkat’s hand in return. His palms are
sweaty: Karkat couldn’t give less of a fuck.
- Thanks, Dave says.
His voice is a bit raspy. Karkat nods.
- Anytime.
- Did you really mean it?
- What?
- That it’ll get better. Do you really think it will?
They’re lost in the middle of space, stranded on a lonely meteor travelling at
the speed of light. They’re discovering sex and romance and getting over
traumas and drawing dicks on Rose’s books. Karkat nods again:
- Yeah, of course. How could it get any worse anyway?
===============================================================================
 
                                       5
He keeps on feeling horrible (and secretly watching videos, some of them
actually being... Really nice, once you’re used to the stuff) until the day
Rose comes up to him and asks him about troll anatomy because she wants to know
what to do with Kanaya.
It’s like a fucking epiphany.
“This part of hell is not empty”, Karkat thinks looking at Rose’s unwillingly
crimson face – why didn’t he think about it before, of course, Kanaya and Rose,
Vriska and Rose, he should have known he wasn’t alone!
And a good great part of the shame he was carrying on his shoulders straight-up
vanishes.
- So what – you think trolls are attractive?
Rose shrugs a bit:
- Well, it appears that even the most exotic body can become quite appealing
when you’ve seen them enough. A bit like Stockholm syndrome, I guess, only with
sex. And less vaguely psychologically damaging. Plus, alien life forms...
There’s something really fascinating about thinking you’ll be the first one to
ever make that kind of third-type encounter. Don’t you think?
Karkat considers the thought for one or two seconds – yeah. Yeah, there is.
He straightens his back, crosses his arms, and exhales deeply. It feels nice,
suddenly, to be normal.
- Go for the grub scars, he tells her.
Rose’s eyes gleam, and she too crosses her arms on her chest:
- I’m all ears.
===============================================================================
 
                                      11
Dave’s words go straight to his heart, and he feels his whole face heat up like
he’s six again. Karkat has to lower his eyes for a second – get a grip, for
god’s sake! – and clears his throat tentatively.
- Um, I, wow. Well I, I wasn’t expecting it.
- Yeah, I can see that. Do you want me to use a trigger warning next time?
Hashtag sex mention, hashtag xenobiology, hashtag lewd proposals, wow, now
that’s the kind of romantic talk I like to hear.
- Don’t you dare acting this smug, Strider, I swear to whatever awful and
sexually deviant deity is watching over us right now you’ll end up regretting
it.
Dave raises his eyebrows suggestively and Karkat pushes him away, urgh, what a
fucking prat, he just can’t believe the nerve of the guy; and then comes back
close, for very obvious reasons.
(Dave really does smell nice. He always has, but Karkat can’t help noticing. He
knows by now humans do not emit pheromones the way trolls do; it doesn’t
matter, he thinks it’s funny; Dave smells like salt soap, with the thickness of
a dust cloud, and it’s one of the nicest things Karkat knows.)
They both look at each other. Dave has dropped his shades. It’s hard for Karkat
to actually form a coherent thought, and he lets himself drown in warm fear and
sour excitement – and then, suddenly, a pang of doubt goes through his head,
turning everything to moon ice. Space cold.
- Wait, he can’t help saying.
Dave had already his eyes half-closed. He looks a bit annoyed that he has to
re-open them properly. Nevertheless, Karkat has to ask:
- Are you really okay with this? I mean, really okay. Because if you’re not, if
you’re just doing it to be nice, I appreciate the idea but I’d rather – what I
mean is, I know we’ve talked about this a bit, so I just want to make sure, I
guess, that you’re –
He’s cut short by a flick on his nose.
- Karkat. Karkat, Karkat. Listen to me.
- I am listening, he says, eyes rived on Dave’s fingers, a couple centimetres
only from his nose.
- Good. Because I’m going to talk.
- All right. Talk, then.
- Okay. Well. I’m glad you’re concerned, of course. And it feels nice. But I
wasn’t... Asking just to be nice with you. I’m asking because. Things have
changed. And things have to change again, right? I have to... Unlearn some
stuff. Learn some other stuff again. Properly. You see?
He shuffles on his seat, maybe the tiniest bit uncomfortable:
- So yeah, I guess the point is, it feels. Okay. Now, to want and try.
- You want to try? Karkat repeats.
- I. Yes. I want to try. And I want, period.
He suddenly lets a nervous laugh out:
- Not gonna lie though, it’s kind of weird.
- Weird as in... Bad? Or scary?
Dave takes some time to think about it, slowly lowers his hand.
- As in unknown, he answers thoughtfully (sincerely). So yeah. A bit scary. But
with you – it’s going to sound super cheesy, but keep your snide remarks for
yourself. It’s just that, with you, I guess that’d end up being pretty cool.
Karkat finds himself smiling, uncontrollably, exactly like the first time Dave
and he kissed; as stupidly as he can, as mindlessly, because he’s moved, and
terrified and hopeful, it makes his stomach turn into jelly, shaken by hot
waves of sparkling fear.
There’s another fleeting moment of awkwardness, both of them close enough to
hold each other, not knowing why they’re not doing it already:
- So, finally says Karkat (is his voice shaking? Really, dude? Don’t you think
it’d be time to grow a pair of horns and at least seem confident?), what do we
– hmm, how do we, start?
- Hm. How about you kiss me?
But their lips are already meeting before the sentence is over, and Dave’s last
words are pleasantly muffled by Karkat’s mouth, dying lazily on his teeth; he
sighs, and Karkat thinks he’s going to explode, or melt, he doesn’t really
know.
The floor is hard, but Dave’s soft, his hands rummaging through his hair as if
he was digging for lost treasures. Eyes closed, Karkat feels his fingers brush
against his ears, his horns, his nape. His nails keep getting caught in knots,
it’s a bit painful, it makes him think of road bumps (unknown dangers in
unknown lands, it’s worth it, worth it all).
He can feel Dave smiling on his lips. He stops for a second:
- What?
- Cicada cries, he breathes against his cheek.  
It takes a couple of seconds of embarrassing fumbling, but Dave finally manages
to put one of his hands on Karkat’s chest, under his shirt (oh fuck, oh fuck oh
fuck) and they both feel the vibrations inside their bones. If it wasn’t for
Dave Strider currently lying under him (fuck, fuck it’s really happening this
time, it really is), Karkat would gladly welcome death.
- I told you, he tries to justify himself, I can’t really control it, trolls
are naturally aggressive, they need signs to –
- Nah. Told you before. I like it. It’s – it’s very you, you know? Insectoid
purrs and all that. It’s – wait, let me...
They both move a bit, trying to get a better position on the cold metal floor
(wouldn’t Dave like it better elsewhere?). Dave’s skin is getting redder by the
second, warmer too, and he tentatively brushes against the – fuck, ah, fuck,
well – that was the most obscene noise Karkat has ever made in public in his
entire life, is he already this turned-on?
- Wow, Dave says softly, awe-eyed. Wow, so it’s true. Wow. I. I’m.
- Yeah, Karkat answers, kind of breathlessly (Dave keeps doing it, it feels so
nice, so nice holy shit, does he even know how red touching someone’s scars is?
Does he have any idea?), you’re doing it, good job, well-learnt.
A shit-eating grin spreads on Dave face, suddenly, and Karkat has just enough
time to understand he’s made a mistake:
- Don’t say it Strider don’t you dare say it –
- Karkat. Karkat, my bro, my dude. It’s the perfect occasion. Come on. Say it
with me. We’re doing this, man...
Karkat kisses him to swallow his voice, and Dave happily complies, but he can
feel him silently mouthing the final words against his tongue – that godawful
trashfumbling bulgeeater, Karkat is going to kill him, it’s not a time to meme,
not with his hands on his torso and drool on his chin, no.
His bulge is gently coming to life, warmth spreading between his legs where
Dave’s knee currently lies. Involuntarily (instinctively), Karkat rubs against
it and wow, it feels so good, it feels so good (fuck, it was definitely a
creepy move, did Dave notice, will he think it’s weird?)
- ‘T’s warm, Dave mumbles.
So he did notice. Please, Demoness, come and take him, he’s ready.
- Yeah, he admits. Yeah, it is, fuck, I’m sorry –
- No, no, you should – I’ve seen – it’s so warm, it’s just, so warm. You can –
you can...
He doesn’t finish his sentence, but Karkat’s ears are boiling, as well as his
cheeks, and he can feel Dave moving around and the pressure on his arse gets
more intense.
Fuck, it feels so good, it is so good, and they’re not even naked. Karkat
doesn’t want to be a fucking loser and come in his pants before anything
actually happens. He doesn’t want to fuck this up. So, as much as it costs him,
he momentarily stops (tries to) acting like a meowbeast in heat and says:
- Dave – shouldn’t we, Dave –
He tugs at the fabric of his shirt, already damp, which makes his heart
stutter. Dave understands, nods, raises his hands above his head so Karkat can
finally pull that stupid thing off.
Getting Dave undressed is weird, messy and really embarrassing (his arm gets
stuck in his sleeve for a while; Karkat has to retain himself from laughing
hysterically, it’s so awkward), but it doesn’t take very long.
Dave’s chest is the same as always, white soft trail of hair on brown skin,
freckles and scars and weird birth hole on the stomach and thick dusty smell.
Sweat covers the skin of his shoulders. He’s so pretty. So alien. So hot.
His heart is beating so fast, he’s going to puke.
He’s not yet too lost in his fantasies, though, that he can’t see Dave gulps,
too-wide eyes looking at him, through him. Karkat immediately moves back,
flooded by panic:
- Is it okay? Am I doing okay?
- Yeah, answers Dave after a while. Yeah, it’s okay.
- Is there – hey... Is there anything I, I shouldn’t do? Anything that would
make you, remember or...
He hates himself for talking about this, bringing down the heavy shadow over
them in a space it should not belong to, yet he’d hate himself even more if he
did something wrong with Dave, and he asks, he has to.
Dave bites his lips. His words are almost incomprehensible now, too low, too
rash:
- Maybe – maybe, here, please, wait a sec –
Shakily, almost in a hurry, he takes his hand and places it on his chest, on
the curve of his ribcage. Dave opens his mouth and no word comes out. Karkat
tries to make sentences out of what his eyes tell him:
- Touch you? Don’t – don’t let go? Is that what you want?
Dave nods violently. Karkat is suddenly both terrified (he can’t fuck this up)
and painfully aroused (he can’t fuck this up).
- I won’t, he tells him, I won’t let go, I –
He leans in to kiss him, and Dave does the same, mouth wide open, god, Karkat’s
never seen him like this, too-bright lips and shaky arms, almost desperate,
almost like a starved beast, his tongue running on his teeth like he doesn’t
care, and he doesn’t probably, he doesn’t.
All that Karkat’s ever watched and read is out of his reach; he’s never felt
this lost, this blatantly ignorant. He runs his hands on Dave’s chest, muscles
sticky with sweat under his palms, comes across what humans have instead of
grub scars – fuck, he can’t remember the word, what was it, what was it – but
he does what he think he’s got to do and when he touches it, Dave jerks.
- It’s okay, he tells him right away. It’s – I, I –
- Is it nice? Tell me if I do anything – ah – anything wrong at all.
- Hm. Hm. I, yes. Yes. Yes. It’s nice. Yes.
He said “yes” – he looks like “yes”, so Karkat keeps going, and he can feel
Dave shift under him, his leg definitely rubbing against his nook like he knows
what he’s doing – and it hits the right spot about one time out of five and
it’s already so much Karkat wants to cry out.
Fuck. His nook feels so empty. He’s probably dripping like crazy on Dave’s knee
by now and he wants him as much as he wants to do things to him, whatever
things, all the things.
-  Fuck, Dave, is there anything – anything at all, anything that you’d want,
anything I could do?
Dave’s mouth is glistening, good and wet, very red:
- I, I can’t – fuck, I can’t, I don’t, I, I –
He can’t speak, words fail him. Karkat feels him shiver and frown – he doesn’t
know how to say he likes things, oh, and the pity, he’s never felt it this
deep, filling his bones, his veins, his head:
- Show me, he says (prays). Don’t speak, don’t – show me, okay? I’ll try. Show
me.
Dave’s limbs are shaking hard now, full of emotions he can’t express. Once
again with frustrated precipitation he takes Karkat’s left hand in his and puts
it in the inside of his thighs, where muscle meets flesh.
Karkat instantly feels the pressure under his fingers and freezes.
Three almost unrelated thoughts cross his mind at the same moment – “I’ve never
been this wet in my entire lifespan”; “sothat’s how hard it actually is”; “I
want this thing inside of me”.
- Fuck, that’s hot, is all that he manages to make out of these.
His bulge is fully unsheathed now, trashing around in his pants, running the
fabric. It’s a lost cause. He’s never going to last long enough to get him to
fuck him. Hell, he’s never going to last long enough to fuck him either.
But at least if he can hold his dick in his hand and finally – finally, fuck,
finally see everything he’s ever wanted to see Dave do – maybe, for a first
time, that’d be enough.
Karkat swallows back his fear and pull the waistband of Dave’s trousers down.
===============================================================================
 
                                       7
They just can’t keep playing dumb.
Karkat is painfully aware of how obvious he’s been lately concerning Dave. He’s
been letting his guard down, allowed himself to do things, throw hints, send
signs, all on purpose. There’s no way Dave hasn’t at least the faintest idea of
what is happening.
He’s been talking to Rose a lot, recently. Karkat, too, has been talking to
Rose. It’s not like she didn’t know, anyways; apparently it was “bound to
happen” or some strange Light shit – although to be honest he feels like she
overplays the omniscient Seer thing sometimes. She must think it’s so cool.
What a nerd.
She keeps telling him to “go talk to him”. Well thank you, Rose, for your
spectacular advice, your chumhandle didn’t lie, you truly are the greatest most
tentacular therapist of them all – oh wait, no you’re not.
But the more Karkat thinks about it, the more obvious it gets: at one point,
they will have to talk about it.
Karkat is not stupid, all right? He’s not blind either, and neither is Dave.
Oblivious mutual pining is only a thing in fiction: when you like someone, you
keep trying to see signs in their behaviour that will say “yes, I’m also very
attracted to you, please make out with me”.
Well, it so happens that Karkat sees these signs everywhere. Dave tentatively
hugging him when they watch movies; awkward semi-hand holding; sitting closer
than before; embarrassed glances across the room; watching, listening, trying
to talk and ending up not saying anything.
Karkat knows that it wouldn’t have happened before. It never did. Dave wouldn’t
do this if he didn’t have a good reason to do so, and it’s just so huge, so
evident, it can’t mean anything else, right?
Is that flirting? No, it’s not even flirting, because it looks like they’re
both trying very hard not to acknowledge the other’s moves. Flirting requires
recognition. What they’re doing right now is called being fucking stupid. Also
probably sucking at relationships.
“Okay”, had said Rose, “if you’re so frustrated about what’s happening between
him and you, why don’t you confront him about it?”
That’s where it gets complicated. Because okay, it’s obvious. And every time
Dave just so happens to lean towards him and get his head on his shoulder in an
extremely sappy and clearly romantic fashion, Karkat’s bloodpusher summersaults
into his mouth. So, why don’t they just talk to each other, kiss, and happily
resolve that conflict?
He doesn’t fucking have a clue.
Maybe Karkat is misinterpreting everything? Pity does this to you, makes you
desperate, blind to the truth, he knows that by now. Maybe Dave is just trying
to be friendly? And his definition of friendship includes looking at his lips
way too much. Well, he did say he was raised in relative loneliness, maybe he
doesn’t really know that it’s Not Something You Do Between Strictly Platonic
Bros. Hmm.
Okay – worst case scenario, it’s a very convoluted and complex joke which goal
is to make fun of him and his (very poorly hidden) feelings for the guy. Which
would mean Dave Strider is a jerk, which he’s not. Or if he is, then he’s
really good at faking niceness. 
Maybe that’s not the worst case scenario. Losing whatever relationship they
have at the moment would affect him more. Karkat really doesn’t want to go to
Dave, ask him “hey, word on the street is you like grey mutant aliens with a
fuckton of neuroses and poor relationship skills”, and be met with a wall of
polite yet irremediable confusion, like no Karkat, I don’t, what are you
talking about?
Yeah. That’d definitely make things weird. Well, weirder than the hand holding.
Also the going around half-naked. Jesus, if that’s Dave Strider’s idea of
flirting, then he’s got the finesse of a goddamn rock. Terezi probably told him
to do so and he must have said “that sucks” but internally thought it was such
a Great Idea. That idiot.
Not that Karkat is actually better than him or anything. They’re just really
bad, the both of them.
(And he has to admit, getting to sit next to Dave when he doesn’t have trousers
on is actually... Really nice. Not that he’s been looking and later jerking off
to the image or anything. Sheesh. What are you talking about.)
Yet, they keep on doing this and pretending nothing’s wrong, until one fateful
day – and everything that had been waiting, suspended in time and darkness,
comes crashing down.
It happens in the middle of the lab they’re turned into a kitchen. Really, only
Karkat and Kanaya go in there to make actual, non-alchemised food. The others
do not really care about “eating healthy” and “not being sick”. Both Kanaya and
Karkat find cooking relaxing – it’s something to do when you’re bored, it’s
useful, it’s distracting, they use those moments to chat and gossip and bicker.
It’s cool. Karkat likes it.
So really it comes as a surprise when he enters the room and doesn’t find
Kanaya in there, but Dave Strider, an extremely determined (if not a little
stiff) expression on his face.
They stare at each other for a full minute at least.
- What are you –
- I wanted to –
They both stop. It’s so awkward it hurts.
- Okay, Karkat says, face burning; you start.
- No, you.
- No, you. I was going to ask you what you were doing here. That’s – that’s
probably what you were going to say, weren’t you?
- Oh. Yeah. Um. Well. I just wanted to have a chat.
The determination on his face falters, and he clears his throat. Holy fuck,
Karkat has never seen him this nervous.
(“He’s going to say it!” screams his heart whilst jumping in his chest. “He’s
going to say it! He is!”
“Kindly shut the fuck up”, answers his brain, and wow, wow, calm down in there,
at least let the man speak before you decide on which emotion adopt?)
- Really, it’s no big deal. Just, don’t panic, okay? Even though I know asking
you not to panic is basically asking the Earth to stop moving for once, like
dude, what’s with all the spinning, can’t you chill a little, take a break, let
us poor humans breathe for a while? Which is funny, because it, well it doesn’t
exist anymore, the Earth I mean, so that’s done. Anyway. The point is, on a
separate, distant timeline in the tree of possibilities, maybe there’s an
alternate version of you that always magically and naturally knows how to
control his temper – who knows? Well, I don’t, so I just do whatever I feel is
right, and I’m asking you, don’t panic. All right?
No. It’s not all right. Nothing is right. Honestly, Dave Strider. How is that
not supposed to make him panic.
Dave must take his two seconds of stunned silence for a sign that he can keep
talking, because he does:
- Really, it’s not much. Not super important. I don’t even know how to start
talking because it’s such a small thing.
- What, he starts calmly, the fuck are you even talking about.
He’s so calm about it. The calmest. The most calm. Truly he is.
Dave, on the other hand, is in a continuous process of simultaneously hunching
his shoulders and sinking his hands into his pockets, as Karkat’s bloodpusher
reaches peaks of activity, beating faster than it ever has.
- Hm. Well, as I said before, it’s really not a big deal, because we’re both
mature young males and we’ll know how to handle the situation. If a situation
occurs. Hm. Yes, well, it’s so unimportant, it’s Rose who talked me through,
told me to come here to find you. Silly old Rose, uh? Always pushing people to
go and talk. About whatever situation they’re in.
- You’re rambling, Karkat says without even really noticing.
The sound of his own blood in his ears is so loud, what the fuck?
- Yeah. I kind of am.
He laughs, then inhales very loudly:
- Ah – fuck, I’m such an arsehole, aren’t I?
- What? Karkat says, vaguely confused.
- It’s just – okay. I. I kind of have to say it, now. Just. Don’t get mad.
Please, don’t get mad. Tell me you won’t.
- I won’t.
- Okay. Okay. Good. Thanks.
- You can talk now.
- Yes. Well, um. You. I. It’s going to sound – fuck. Hm. Okay, we – how do I
even begin? We... We’ve spent a lot of time together lately and it’s been.
Really nice. You’re... You’re actually a lot cooler than I first thought. And
fun to be around. And kinda smart, and nice, and. A great person overall, and.
I feel like you’ve really helped me kind of grow, in a way? I never thought
it’d be this, um, this... Much. So, what I want to say, is. Fuck, I’m pathetic.
You – you probably know by now. Um. I.
It really is crashing down.
Planets colliding, stars exploding and it’s not as terrible as Karkat feared:
it’s actually pretty much the opposite. It’s golden light spilling everywhere,
warm in his chest, between his teeth; it’s a nascent sun, it’s enormous, it
makes him want to faint, makes him want to giggle excitedly, dance a bit, move
his hands and scream.
Karkat is smiling, god, he’s smiling so hard, he can’t help it.
- I like you, he says before Dave even has time to look up.
Their eyes meet.
It’s the warmest Karkat has ever felt. The fullest too.
- Oh, answers Dave. That’s cool.
There’s a moment of silence before he says:
- I like you too.
He blurts it out so fast, and his eyes widen a bit, like he’s surprised he even
managed to spell it out. Softly, almost in awe, he repeats:
- I like you. I like you.
- I like you, Karkat answers.
- I like you.
- I like you!
- Yeah! Me too! I like you!
- Fuck – Dave! Guess what!
- What?
- I like you!
An ugly fit of laughter takes them both, and Dave snorts, running his hands
through his hair in relief like he’s won first prize in some cosmic
competition:
- You’re the worst – you big, gigantic dickhead – oh man, I think I’m going to
have to sit, how ridiculous is that? I didn’t even know I could do this. I
didn’t even know I could – say it, feel this, fuck, Karkat! Karkat, take a wild
guess. Take a wild fucking guess.
- I don’t know, Dave, what?
- I like you! he yells, almost hysterical, and then laughs again, and Karkat
laughs too, because they’re both standing in this dirty dark kitchen, hands
balled in fists by their sides, two meters away from each other, so full of
everything they feel like it’s going to spill on the floor.
Someone knocks heavily on the wall:
- Can the both of you just shut the fuck up! screams Vriska through the door.
- How about maybe you shut the fuck up! Dave screams back.
Karkat’s ability to form words has mysteriously disappeared, and he knows that
if he was to try and open his mouth, the only thing that would come out would
be a prolonged hoot of victory. So he keeps on grinning, laughing, and so does
Dave, and they look at each other like misbehaving wrigglers with smiles so
large Karkat’s cheeks hurt.
Dave is red, breathless and a little sweaty. His teeth are very white. Karkat’s
never seen him like this, no, and he really –
wants to kiss him
human, loser, smiling Dave Strider.
And he’s already moving –
They meet each other in the middle.
Karkat had never thought it’d be this warm.
He has his hands on Dave’s shoulders, moves them to touch his face, feel the
bones of his jaw under his fingers and thinks – wow.
It really is warm.
Dave’s lips are wet; Karkat loves how close they’re standing, chest to chest;
it’s not at all like he thought it’d be, it’s both not enough (he thought it’d
be... Fuller, in some weird way, like it’d been everywhere and he’d have more
of Dave’s mouth on his own) and almost too much (it feels so much nicer than he
could have thought, so much nicer, yeah; he likes how slow it has to be to move
with Dave’s lips, follow his flow, get one of their own.)
Their teeth clash – they both don’t really know how to proceed, forwards,
backwards, when to open their lips? They’re not in synch at all. And they both
move back a bit. Karkat keeps his eyes closed. Dave’s shades are in the way –
he hears him put them away.
They kiss again. It’s still as good. It’s still as weird. Kissing is so hard.
He’s probably lousy at it.
Dave opens his mouth and Karkat instinctively follows the movement and ah – he
feels Dave shiver, they both do, fuck, it feels so nice when it goes right –
then they fumble again, open lips against closed ones, teeth grazing teeth,
bloods running side by side.
Once again they break the kiss, both a bit breathless – fuck, no one told him
it’d be so difficult, like walking in the dark, venturing into vast plains,
map-less, direction-less – will they kiss again, when will they? Karkat opens
his eyes. Dave’s lips are swollen, they shine, his eyes are half-closed, they
shine, too.
So close, so close. It’s probably terrible except that it doesn’t feel like
terrible, it feels like right. It feels like overheating, like his head is
floating above his neck, like he sees and feels and doesn’t understand, yet
doesn’t mind.
He feels like smiling. He does, and so does Dave.
All of the sudden, Karkat kind of understands the appeal in foreign lands’
calls – thrill of discovery – howl of the unknown – first one to see, first one
to hear – yes. If that’s what travelling is all about, Karkat will gladly
become an explorer – he’ll fall and map and learn, and eventually, he’ll
discover, and find, and know.
Yes. He understands.
===============================================================================
 
                                       2
Karkat is pissed off. How could he not? He has all the reasons to be pissed
off. All of them.
Maybe the worst of them is knowing about the previous reasons. Their simple
existence is making him sick. And frustrated. And turned-on.
Aaaand that’s exactly why he’s got a problem.
He throws another glance behind him, but the living-room is definitely empty.
Where is everyone anyway? Bah, it doesn’t matter. It’s very convenient, that’s
all Karkat needed.
Once again, he makes sure his chair effectively hides what he’s doing if anyone
was to barge in, before he turns back to the computer, slightly frowning. He’s
hiding (hiding? No, no fucking way, Karkat Vantas doesn’t hide, he’s not in the
middle of the way, that’s all) – so, he’s comfortably installed in the most
remote corner of the room, laptop on his thighs, chin in his hand, and thinking
hard.
For the first time in what feels like forever, Karkat is doing research.
Of course the Earth blew up ages ago, so whatever technology the humans had has
disappeared with it, and furthermore they’re floating in the middle of paradox
space, so he wouldn’t have access to their network. But he’s pretty sure he’s
heard Sollux mentioning he had made a copy of the humans’ entire internet when
it was just the twelve of them trolls, maybe because he thought it’d come in
handy, or that it was a fun thing to do (fucking nerd, that guy). So if it’s
still on their own network – he still has access to all that they had written
on Internet, old memos and everything –, if the data is still accessible, then
maybe...
Karkat finally reaches the older files in the list. He looks for the biggest
one and immediately finds it – fuck, Captor, when did you have the time to
download this crap? It’s absurdly huge. Didn’t you have better things to do,
like kissing your pretty fish princess or talking to your best completely
platonic bro before you disappeared into nothingness?
Ah, great, now Karkat feels depressed thinking about his dead friends. He
really should get therapy.
He forces himself to focus on the task at hand and clicks the file. Either his
computer is fucking Troll Dwayne Johnson, or the humans’ biggest source of data
is actually not as big as they bragged about, because it opens fairly quickly,
and holy shit, that’s a LOT of subfiles. How is he even going to find anything
in there?
Well, that’s research for you, Karkat tells himself, barely indulging himself
in drama (he has the right to do so, okay, remember, he’s pissed off and all of
this?)
He spends some time wondering where he wants to start. Something tells him to
cut off the chase and get straight to the point – but even trying to imagine
what it could be like is making him overheat, so he hastily pushes the thought
away and decides to pick something clean, first, something rational, detached.
Like an encyclopaedia, yeah, books are the bomb. Great idea, Vantas. High-five.
So it appears, humans actually have very extended online culture manuals.
Karkat, after maybe half an hour of fumbling, finally finds one that doesn’t
seem too hard to use, and it launches properly when he clicks on the subfile,
so he guesses there’s no reason to back up now.
Okay. Now, the wording. Hm.
Fuck. He feels like the universe’s worst creep, which it probably not very far
from the truth given their situation. It doesn’t change a thing, though.
He opts for something scholarly, very basic (it’s safer this way) and types in
“human body”. He is immediately met with at least half a hundred different sub-
categories. Everything from their common chemical balance to their skeletal
structure is there, neatly translated in a splendid Alternian font. Usually,
Karkat would be vibrating in delight (because hey, biology is super
interesting!) and he’d dive into the list of different genetic diseases humans
suffer(ed) from. However, today’s special. Plus now that he knows that it’s
here, he can always come back to it later. Yeah. He shouldn’t get distracted.
He shouldn’t let himself get distracted.
He takes a deep breath, then scrolls until he finds the article labelled
“genitalia and reproductive organs”. Come on, man. Do it for science.
He clicks on the link.
For the love of all that’s sacred what the fuck are those.
Karkat blinks furiously and looks away from the screen, his brain desperately
trying to process what he’s just seen.
Well. That was a spectacular fail. Fuck, he really wasn’t expecting pictures.
But that’s okay, he’s okay, that’s what he’s here for, right? What should he
do, now? Go away? He’d come back. Karkat is just that curious. Shit, that’s a
very... Pure word. If he wanted to describe himself more accurately, he’d have
said something like “pathetic” or “deranged” or “way too much into alien sex.”
But, well. That’s not the point. Plus, he can’t hang around for long, can he?
If someone else came, he’d be done for. He has to be quick, get this over with,
and never speak about it again.
Yeah. Sounds nice. He can do this.
After a moment of intense mental preparation, Karkat slowly turns back to face
the screen.
Hm. Okay. Well. Maybe it’s not as terrible as he first thought. This right here
– it kind of looks like a bulge, if bulges were like tiny pink mutant arms with
globes at the base (???) and fur on the top (once again: ???). That thing here
would be a... Nook, albeit a very sick one. There again, fur crotch. That’s so
freaking useless.
Oh, okay, that he knows, troll girls have these to protect their ribcage in
fights – but humans’ got those weird round things (nipples? That’s a dumb name.
Also, why is everything so pink and red? Humans really have no sense of shame)
that he’s seen on Dave’s chest, too. So both girls and boys have those nipple
things? Interesting. Are they linked to their reproductive organs in any way?
Karkat keeps on reading – apparently female’ shame globes are used to feed
their babies (wow, now that is definitely gross, what do they even eat, blood,
like tiny monkey leeches? Oh, no, okay, he should have read a bit further, so
women produce this... Nutrition liquid so their toothless babies can feed
without fighting for survival. Kind of like moobeasts. Now that he thinks about
it, he’s never seen John feed on a female when he was a kid. He must have found
another way to survive. Urgh, he’s so strong when he wants to, yet decides to
be a fucking blubbering idiot most of the time, it makes Karkat’s blood boil.)
But okay, it makes sense now, if females’ shame globes are related to
nutrition, it’s no wonder they keep it hidden to make sure they’re safe from
attacks. Unlike female trolls, Rose doesn’t seem very keen on baring her chest
whenever there’s a confrontation. Probably because it’s super important. Yeah.
Karkat gets it. Good. He’s totally not grossed out. Nothing wrong about this.
Let’s focus on something else now.
But the more he reads, the more confused Karkat gets. He’s not even disgusted
by now, simply... Perplexed.
It’s just so different. Humans do not share the same genitalia, unlike trolls;
females get this weird-looking nook called a vagina, when males have this...
Non-retractable bulge that acts like a blood sponge and gets bigger with
arousal. Hmm. So in the end, it’s a bit like wild animals they had on Alternia.
Females carry the babies around for a while in an internal pouch and give birth
in pain and blood, screaming and sweating, and then go on with their lives like
nothing happened.
(Humans can do this? Rose could possibly do this? His respect for her
definitely increases; his slight fear of her does too, because he’s not going
to lie... That’s pretty wild.)
But wait – fuck, so it means humans use each others as pails? Oh fuck, fuck, oh
no, that’s weird, that’s perverse, that’s super fucked-up in the very very hot
sense, fuck – he gets a fleeting image of Dave Strider, legs covered in bright
red material – oh fuck, Karkat, get a grip, move on, move on!
He forces himself to snap out of it and just keep going.
There are more things about the internal structure of their reproductive organs
and their hormonal impact on the individual’s brain (everything happens inside,
it’s so wonderfully complicated, gorgeously organised, and Karkat forgets for a
second he’s talking about very real persons he’s having odd dreams about –
biology is so cool, dude, so fucking radical), but eventually he’s read
everything he needed to read at the moment.
He lets a sigh of relief out when he finally exits the window and the black
wallpaper of his desktop greets him, familiar, innocent enough.
Well, that’s done, now.
He has to be honest – it wasn’t as terrible as he thought it’d be. Actually, it
shed light on a lot of aspects of the human culture Karkat had troubles
understanding – the unnecessary over-gendering of clothing and interests, the
seemingly superior male sex (when really Karkat isn’t sure it shouldn’t be the
other way around, and not because he lives in a matriarchal society or
anything), Dave and John’s refusal of “homosexual” relationships (they probably
think it’s not natural, since they can’t penetrate nookless men and perpetuate
their species). Yes. That was actually useful. He definitely feels enlightened.
Complete, even. His curiosity has been fully satisfied. He doesn’t want to know
anything else. Nope.
So if his brain could now stop inventing crazy xeno-sexual scenarios when he’s
just trying to rest peacefully in his room, that’d be perfect.
===============================================================================
 
                                       3
Karkat wakes up one morning and wonders – okay, male-female sexuality, he’s got
an idea of how it could work (once again, some animals did the same on
Alternia), but given what John and Dave told him, there were same-sex
relationships in their pathetic human world, both male and female; so, how did
they actually do it?
Not that he’s interested in pursuing a relationship with any human ever, of
course (of course!). His inquisitiveness is only motivated by a pure and noble
thirst for knowledge. 
Yeah. Totally. Right.
Right.
===============================================================================
 
                                      12
- Dude, he says softly (and he sees Dave’s eyes shine), that’s so nice.
He feels the rumbles of his laughter in his chest – he’s still touching him, as
he said he wanted, his skin sticky on his own, heartbeat like a strong wave
under his fingertips (not letting go, not leaving him alone, they’re both doing
this, both of them).
- Thanks. Glad you like it.
- I do. It looks... Neat.
- Neat, Dave repeats snickering.
But then there’s a hitch in his breath, and he stops talking.
Karkat’s hand brushes against Dave’s hair (it’s not as soft as his head hair,
but still as pale), the skin of his dick, very careful not to hurt him with his
claws (he hasn’t sharpened them in a long time, it should be okay, right?)
Much to his surprise, the skin’s very soft, and he feels the blood hard pumping
under the thin surface – it makes him think of a small animal, almost
vulnerable, profoundly alive, which is in a way not so different from what
bulges are.
The tip is already leaking with genetic fluid. Karkat, very slowly, runs his
thumb on the surface. Doubt is still there in his mind, asking questions like
“am I taking it too slow?” or “is it awkward?”  or “am I a pathetic failure and
it this all a dream because I can’t have nice things?” – but he feels Dave’s
legs twitch, and he’s biting into his lower lip as to muffle himself – oh,
wow... Wow.
His own bulge is pleading for release – Karkat does his best to ignore it,
because there’s so much better to do right now. He knows this, all right, human
male genitals do not produce enough fluid to be handled properly. He licks his
palm – fuck, what if humans are allergic to the stuff? The thought makes him
snicker, but really, he doesn’t care much right now – and tries to do what he’s
seen the men do on the videos, his palm on the warm length of his sex.
In the end, it’s like masturbating, right? Except it’s on somebody else. So
really not like masturbating. Fuck, he hopes he can do this right.
Dave’s knee suddenly jerks – Karkat feels the slight pain of the kick in his
thigh, and he steadies himself a bit, forces himself not to shake.
He slightly increases the pressure of his fingers on Dave’s dick and he hears
him gasp.
He looks up. Heat immediately pools up in his gut – a drop of sweat runs on
Dave’s throat and he tries to close his mouth, but Karkat carefully moves again
and Dave lets a hiss out, a small cry, and his hips buck into Karkat’s hand –
affection hungry, contact starved.
That’s so damn hot.
- You look so nice, Karkat hears himself say.
It’s right, it’s right, Dave looks fucking gorgeous, pity red blood pooling on
his face, mouth open on his useless tongue – Karkat pumps a tiny bit faster,
more confident now, and oh, oh, fuck, Dave moans, something that comes from the
depths of his chest, loudly, unabashedly.
He can hear him trying to form words that do not make sense and Karkat drinks
them all, throat so dry, losing himself in Dave’s image, dark legs and dark
belly, the white flutter of eyelashes on his cheeks.
- Karkat, he hears him plead – and then it’s almost like he’s stuck – Karkat,
Karkat, Karkat, ffff...
Fluid has been dripping on his fingers from his cock for what seems like
forever now. His dick is harder than ever, and Karkat’s motions are slick,
fluid even; he understands as Dave’s moans get progressively higher that he’s
so close – so close, fuck, he... He really, really wants to watch him come.
- You’re so handsome. You look so nice, Dave, you look so nice...
Dave grips the wrist of the hand that’s splayed flat on his chest and his nails
dig into his flesh as another whine escape his lips – his other hand comes to
cover his mouth so as to muffle the noise he makes, he’s so loud, he’s so
freaking loud – and there’s still the barely understandable litany, the
everlasting chant of his name (Karkat Karkat Karkat), the hottest thing Karkat
has ever heard.
He wants him to do all the things to him. Wants to do all the things to him.
Everything, everything with him. Make him orgasm, make him feel nice, make him
feel otherworldly, keep him mouthing his name like this. It’s lame – ridiculous
– messy and it’s better than everything he’s ever dreamt of.
Karkat pumps one last time – Dave’s throat constructs, let a strangled cry out,
then another, longer between his fingers – and he sees him lose himself as the
pressure on his wrist gets more intense, white hot genetic fluid spurting out,
dripping on his claws, his dick twitching in his palm – Dave’s eyes are closed
shut, he’s squirming under him and Karkat has never seen him look so good – so
blissful.
The warmth stays for a while.
Karkat licks his hand clean, like every troll do when this happens. His head
feels light, a feeling close to drunkenness. Human genetic material tastes
strange, but not awful (he could get used to it), and ah, fuck, he can’t
believe he’s done this, he can’t believe it.
He looks at Dave, still lying on the floor. His cock is smaller now, softer
again – Karkat can’t believe it.
- I can’t believe it, says Dave even so softly.
He’s not looking at him, and Karkat freezes.
- Are you okay?
- Holy dry shit Karkat, what do you think? Fuck. You’re – you’re... And I’m not
– not even – wasn’t even physically able to tell you... Hey.
- What?
- Sorry to ruin the moment, could you just – move, for a second? I just want to
sit properly.
Karkat immediately complies, and Dave uses his elbows to straighten himself.
His legs are still open, ankles brushing against Karkat’s thighs. They’re
close; the sweat slowly cools down, and Karkat’s head still feels fuzzy, the
need in his bulge gently receding, like low tide. They’ll need to get clean.
Dave especially (Karkat spots bright red marks on his knee and does his best
not to hide himself in Sweater Town and never get out of there because god,
that’s so fucking awkward).
Dave blinks. His lips are swollen. Karkat suddenly notices they’re still
holding hands – Dave’s fingers awkwardly intertwined with his, a clumsy sign of
bone-deep tenderness.
- What is it you wanted to say? he asks him.
He smiles faintly, scratches the back of his neck:
- Well, I thought... Okay, it could actually have been embarrassing blurting it
out when you were all about touching my dick and living the dream.
- How romantic.
- Why, you really looked like you were enjoying yourself! Let’s not be afraid
of the big words, you know?
- The rambling, please, stop the rambling.
- Look who’s talking, please, bromeo, don’t pretend you’re not part of the
Elite Four of rambling uselessly to cover your feelings –
- Dave.
- Okay, okay. So. Um. You were going down on me and I thought – I thought you’d
find this madly passionate, or something. So, I did want to say it, but I just
didn’t know I’d... Be, like, not talking and not doing anything.
- Yes, I saw, you – was it okay with you, was it...
- Yes! Yes, it was nice! It was nice. I liked it it, it was just, um. I wasn’t
prepared? For the nice. It was too much nice at once. It took me by surprise.
Goddamned nice.
He grimaces, apparently displeased with himself:
- Argh, fuck – that was the motherfucking epitome of lameness. Sorry you had to
go through that.
- No, no, I was okay – it was okay, I didn’t care, it’s okay.
He hesitates for a second, but they’ve already reached their quota of
embarrassment for the day, so it cannot get worse:
- It may have been... Kind of a tiny bit sexy.
Dave kind of stares. Karkat kind of wants to disappear in the ground.
- Wow, he whispers. Really?
- Well – yes.
- Ah – yeah, well, that’s, that’s good, I guess. I mean – so you didn’t think
to yourself “fucking Dave Strider here, that guy took ages to agree to one damn
hand job and isn’t even capable of returning the favour like the fuckup he is”?
- Erm. No? No, not at all, I wasn’t – for Gl'bgolyb sake, Dave, we really need
to work on your damn self-esteem. No, you know what? I thought it was really
fucking super. You looked really good, you looked like you were enjoying
yourself, I was making you feel good, it was great.
- A rising dominatrix, Dave nods before Karkat tries to hit him on the shoulder
(and fails).
Then he laughs again, and he holds Karkat’s hand a bit tighter, swaying it
upwards and backwards:
- All that kink talking is fine and good and necessary, but – can we get back
for a second to where we were? We’ll discuss your dom tendencies later.
- I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear anything. Bring it on. I’m ready.
- Okay, so. What I wanted to say is.
He pauses, rolls his eyes at no one in particular (except maybe himself), then
says:
- I. I really like you. As in, really like like you. As in, actually kind of
really love you. What you call – you know, pity? Red pity? Yeah. And not just
because you gave me my first hand job ever. Just because. I like you. You know?
Then he looks down, definitely trying to hide his shame and outstandingly
failing (they’ve hit rock bottom today really), and looks up again – smiling,
smiling, like he should, Karkat doesn’t want to let go of that sight.
- I love you too, Karkat answers.
Dave sniggers and swings their hands up in the air again:
- Oh, cool.
- What? What, is that all you have to say? “Oh, cool”?
- What? What do you want me to say? All right, no, you’re right, you deserve
it: I love you too. Let’s not do that again – but I love you too.
 - What? Do what again?
- The “I like you” thing – it was good, downright lame and cheesy but it was
good, but I don’t want to wake everyone up looking like this –
- I love you.
- I love you.
- I love you.
- I love you – fuck, you – I haven’t even seen your bulge.
- Nothing prevents you from seeing it later. I love you.
- I hope so. Dude, it was actually so fucking fine – I didn’t know it could be
like this, you know?  I love you.
- I love you, he repeats (and he means it, needs to say it... Needs to because
on so many planes of reality he’s dead, or Dave’s dead, or they’re both dead,
and they never even met each other or they were too young, too rash; maybe it’s
the only timeline where they are both able to say this, and so after second
thought he adds) and I want to know you.
Dave stays silent for a second. Then, his eyes meet his; fingers tightly
entwined with his own; Karkat waits for him as he says, slowly, genuinely:
- I want to know you too. I want to know this. I want to – explore, with you.
Karkat feels the smile bloom on his lips before he even knows it.
That’s it. That’s the word. That’s the feeling. Get rising, start walking,
you’re not alone. Exploring. Dave gets it. How does he? He always does.
Karkat’s so glad he’s here. So damn glad.
- Yes, he whispers in awe.
Then Dave kisses him, and all that Karkat can think of is “so that’s what
wanderlust feels like”.
 
End Notes
     Yeah, well, that's done x) I hope it was okay with you ! I kind of
     see Karkat as... Very emotionally honest, where Dave might actually
     have a hard time saying his mind (especially nice things, that must
     have been difficult). I hope they weren't too out of character. As I
     said, it was my first time writing Dave, and he's a very complicated
     character, I think, to get right ! So yeah.
     Once again, thank you for your prompt, I hope you enjoyed it ! Have a
     nice day !!
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