
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/715656.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Dave_Strider/Karkat_Vantas
  Character:
      Karkat_Vantas, Dave_Strider
  Additional Tags:
      Caliginous_Romance_|_Kismesis, Oral_Sex, Xeno, Dysphoria, Species_Swap,
      Ouroboros_Mix
  Collections:
      Ouroboros_Mix_2013, DaveKat_fics
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-03-10 Words: 3481
****** things i've never seen before behind bolted doors ******
by mercurialMalcontent
Summary
     Dave and Karkat have a little fight over who pushed the buttons that
     swapped their species, and it turns into extensive scientific
     experimentation of a different kind altogether.
  This work was inspired by
      i_can_ride_my_bike_with_no_handlebars by negativecosine
The explosion of blame over who pushed what button and how you're both going to
get out of this mess of course, of-fucking-course, devolves into a physical
struggle, you and Karkat knocking into the common room furniture as you slap
and pull and shove at each other.
It's good, in the way it's usually good that you're simultaneously furious and
ashamed over, but it's weird, because Karkat still looks like himself with you-
coloring, white hair and red eyes and angrily flushed cheeks. Fuck, he's funny
looking like this, enough so that you're almost able (despite his panting and
the writhe of his body against yours) to convince yourself that you aren't
turned on by him.
Almost, except he smells like sex -- no, like 'fuck me until my brains leak out
of my ears', like something you thought was some dumb flowery literary bullshit
but no, fuck no, you can smell it now and he smells like an invitation to all
the things you've wanted to do to him for way too long. It distracts you enough
Karkat is nearly able to knock you over. You recover and shove him, but he has
his hands fisted in your shirt front, and you go with him in tripping into a
wall.
You fall against him and whoa that is definitely a boner he just pressed
against your hip. You pin his chest with yours and arch your hips
experimentally, and he whines.
"Ahaha, wow," you laugh, and Karkat flushes even redder. "Hey Vantas, what do
you say about some interspecies experimentation? For science."
Karkat grimaces a smile that's not any more threatening with human teeth than
it was with his cute little pointy trollish ones. "How about you choke on my
bulge."
"Sounds good to me," you say, and shove him sprawling onto the couch. He
squawks and struggles as you follow and slide yourself down his body to get a
good look at what's happening with his crotch. Karkat has a hard-on so raging
you seriously wonder if he's going to rip clean through his jeans. The thought
kind of makes your mouth water -- or maybe that's just his scent, god damn, how
did you not smell him before?
(He had to have smelled you. He smelled you and didn't say anything. The
thought gives your guts a nervous twist and makes things happen in your groin
that you don't want to think about yet.)
You brush your cheek across the line of Karkat's dick and he makes an agonized
noise, grabs you by the horns you'd forgotten you have, and yanks. For a second
your world is pain-pleasure-pressure-sex and your claws (clawsfor fuck's sake)
scrabble against the couch before you find your words. "Fuck off with those,
asshole," you snap, only for him to yank again. You bite back an embarrassing
noise of your own and continue, "They're not a fucking steering wheel, this is
not the Stridermobile, you know what that feels like--"
He gets you by the base of your horns and yanks again. Between that and your
faceful of jeans-covered dick your entire world is please-fuck-me-Karkat. It
takes everything you have to keep talking because if you don't you are going to
fucking embarrass yourself. "They're sensitive man, all over like some sort of
hyper radio antenna, gonna pick up your signal from the other side of the
universe. C'mon, you oughta know this, or maybe you wouldn't know, yours were
too small to get a grip, weren't they, must be why you were always so fucking
pissed off."
"Shut up," Karkat rasps, and yanks your hair instead.
"You little shit, you're going to give me a bald spot," you snarl instead of
the sound you want to make, even as you claw at his jeans. He needs to have his
pants off so you can taste him right fucking now, and apparently he has the
same idea because he's scrabbling right along with you.
It's useless, he's useless, his hands are shaking so much they're more hinder
than help. "You're gagging for it," you say as you smack his hands away and
pull his jeans, crab-themed boxers and all, past his knees. You lick your lips
and lean in but he squeaks and pulls you away by one of your horns. You snort
and look up at him knowingly over the rims of your shades. "You're such a slut,
Vantas, can't believe you lasted this long, fuck, I can smell you, you know
that?"
You didn't really need to ask, and the look on Karkat's face, rage-desperation-
lust, confirms what you already knew. Fuck yes, he's allyours now. You swipe
your tongue up his cock and he makes this wrenching moan that goes straight to
your crotch and yanks on your horns again, tries to yank you away, but fuck
him, it's time to fucking commit.You want to taste him, to drink him down and
utterly wreck him and have him thankingyou for it.
And it's not working, you're not used to your mouth being full of weaponized
teeth and an impossibly long tongue. Frustration scrapes at you as Karkat
blurts, panicky, "Strider, what are you even trying to--"
"Fuck, these teeth," you growl, you honest to fucking god growl like an animal,
and Karkat goes utterly still. You think you've scared him. You lick him not at
all apologetically and he shivers, so you lick him more, god, you're treating
his dick like a fast-melting ice cream in your favorite flavor, shit should be
embarrassing as hell but you almost don't care.
Almost, and that little bit you do is slipping away by the moment as you lap at
the head of his cock. Fuck, this is good, and it's even better when Karkat digs
his fingers in to the base of your horns and pulls. You growl and he gasps a
moan that would be dick-wrenching if you were sure you still had a dick wow
okay not going there.
Where you are going is lifting your head and lookingat him, looking at what a
sloppy mess he already is and god, you just want to eat him alive. His eyes
widen and his cock twitches, and he looks so delicious and desperate you laugh.
That earns you Karkat yanking on your horns again, this time with a purpose; in
a heartbeat you have his legs around your head and a face full of his taint.
He's sweaty as hell and the smell of him makes you ache inside. You want to
devour him.
You lick and suck and lick at him some more, matching with your tongue
everything that felt good with your own tentative explorations with your own
body. Karkat humps your face and you lick more, you thrust your tongue harder,
growling with you much you want him, and he makes this amazing pornographic
moan and pulls you tighter against him. He's practically smothering you with
his balls and you. Do. Not. Care.
Karkat pulls you up soon enough, kind of dragging your mouth up to his cock.
You don't have to look into his face to tell what he wants. Shit, you want it
too, you're nearly drooling just thinking about it (from the mouth and
elsewhere but nope, you're still not thinking about that). You lick him,
getting him tensed up, before you figure it out and get the head of his cock in
your mouth. Yeah, fuck, that's it, that's good--
"Oh sweet almighty FUCK--!"
-- that's more than good. You let him push into your mouth before you pull
back, then slide back down. Karkat tenses, then goes slack as you do it again,
moaning something about mother grub fucking drones on a culling fork as he lets
you fill yourself with him. Fucking slut, he's perfect like this, sprawled
there helpless and letting you take him apart with your mouth.
His hands gripping the bases of your horns takes you by surprise and sends a
jolt of sensation from your scalp to your crotch, sending your possessive growl
rumbling down into a groan. "Oh fuck ohfuckohFUCK," he yells, and thrusts his
cock deep into your mouth.
Oh fuck is right. You gag a little and groan again and as tempting as it is to
let him fuck your mouth (you're fucking ashamed of that, who's the slut,
here?), you don't. You swirl your tongue as you pull back and he goes still
again, still but tense and babbling all kinds of incoherent nonsense that's
nonetheless making you molten from your crotch up.
He's yours now, he's yours,holding onto your horns for dear life as you work
his cock over with your mouth. You're playing him like your fucking turntables,
you sure as hell aren't gasping raggedly or moaning as much as you are
growling, or pulling him against you, or letting your glasses slip down your
face. You're in control, you are.
But when Karkat yanks you inward by your horns all at once you don't even try
to stop him, even with a face full of his his pubes and a mouth full of his
twitching cock and oh fuckhe's making the most dick wrenching noises you have
everheard and you just, you just let him use you, let him pour himself down
your throat.
You let him finish, just barely, before you shove his hands away and pull your
mouth off of him. He makes this confused little sound and you have to fight not
to huff in annoyance. "No need to start the parade right away, I'll give you an
hour to get the marching band set up," you say as you push your glasses up by
nudging your face against his knee.
"Where did," Karkat starts, his voice strained.
Smugness settles over you. "Where did I learn that? Well, a man's gotta be
well-researched, you know--"
The bastard knees you in the fucking nose. It doesn't break but it hurts like a
motherfucker, what the fuck, you might be all wrapped up in this hate thing but
you just fucking blew him and this is the thanks you get? You shove his legs
off of your shoulders and let him sprawl as you check your nose for damage.
Karkat doesn't look pissed so much as baffled and faintly disgusted, though.
"No, fuckface, where did--"
"Fuckface." You smirk. "You did."
He kicks out at you, this pathetic flail of one leg that misses by a mile, and
tries to drag himself back onto the sofa. Annoyance has joined the bafflement
and disgust, and he finally manages to get out, "Where did it all go?"
You just stare at him. Is he simple? Did you crack his fragile little skull
when you were shoving each other around?
He makes an impatient hand gesture and says, "Didn't-- You didn't have a
bucket. Where did it. When I."
Your guts twist unpleasantly and you go still. "I swallowed it."
Karkat goes red -- really red, like a flashfire across his face. "How."
You tense in embarrassment. "Is that not something you--"
"No, shut up. Physically, how could you do that?"
You keep staring. What does he mean, how could you do that physically? It was
like two tablespoons, not buckets worth or somethi-- "Oh," you say, a whole new
level of mortifying and twistedly hot awareness dawning for you.
"Is it diff--"
"Is that what the buckets are for."
"Yes, this is what the fucking buckets are for," he says exasperatedly.
You just. Your guts are in freefall and everything below your waist is suddenly
acutely unfamiliar. "Do you havea--"
This look flashes across his face, like all the smug you've ever felt in your
entire life has just transferred to him. He hauls you close by one of your
horns and cups your crotch and oh fuck there are things happening down there
that you don't want to think about even as you're don't want him to ever stop
touching you. "Yeah," he breathes. "I'll show you how it's done."
You start squirming away. "N-no, no, that's cool, freaky xeno show-and-tell is
over for the, the, oh fuck," you groan, your halfhearted escape coming to an
abrupt end as Karkat squeezes your crotch. You sprawl, panting, and he slides
off the couch and starts opening your jeans. You stare as whatever it is under
your briefs writhes upward into his touch of its own accord. Some distant part
of you is glad you still have a dick, even as the rest is having trouble
processing that 'trouser snake' is now a far more apt euphemism than it ever
was before.
Karkat fucking petsit, a firm, smooth stroke down to its base, and your hips
shudder upward without your sayso. "No, seriously, fuck off," you growl. It's a
satisfying growl, would scare away tougher men than him -- but then you
remember he is still a troll under his you-colored human form, and he knows the
undertones to it you didn't intend.
"I thought the expression was 'jack off'," he says, stroking your crotch
tentacle again. It writhes under his touch like an excited puppy and you bite
back a groan.
"The expression is I can take care of my own weird alien j-junk thank you very
fucking--" Your hips jerk because now he's rubbing between your legs, where
your balls and taint should be, where you're now wet and aching and desperately
want him inside you holy fuck how did you even fucking think that?
"The expression is that you aren't licensed to operate these parts, you
stubborn sack of shit, so in the spirit of interspecies experimentation I'm
going to give you a lesson." Karkat squeezes your tentadick and you shudder all
over. "Relax, Dave. I'll take care of you."
You don't like the way he says it precisely because it sends a jolt of get-
inside-me through your crotch. You're not supposed to feel that, not there, not
you, you're the one who's supposed to be doing the fucking -- but here you are,
panting and spreading your legs just because he's giving you a knowing look
while he rubs your crotch.
"Is that a yes?"
"Jesus christing fuck Karkat, what does it look like," you gasp as you rock
yourself into his hand. "Of course it's a yes, it's a hell fucking yes, it's a
get me off because I swear to god my dick is going to explode if you don't do
it in the next ten seconds--"
"Slut," Karkat says with unbearable amounts of cheer, and you go dizzy and hot
from shame. "C'mon, lift your ass."
You do even though you don't want your pants to come off because you don't want
to look at your weird alien junk but you're desperate to have somepart of him
shoved up inside of you. You want to hate that feeling, but what you really
hate is how eagerly you kick off your pants and underwear and how much you more
you want Karkat to fuck you as he looks at you with the same sort of hungry
expression you gave him.
Karkat runs his hands over your hips and down the inside of your thighs, and
you try not to watch, even as you spread your legs. He strokes the base of your
tentadick with his thumb before he runs it down your, your... your slit,fucking
hell that's wrong, wrong even as you snarl desperately for more.
"Oh my god, you're sopping." You snarl again, helplessly, and he just snickers.
"I'd better get the pail under you before you leak all over the floor." He
slaps your thigh. "Flip over."
Your heart skip-thumps and you stare at him in challenge, but Karkat keeps
smirking and stroking your slit, and fucking hell you're about two seconds from
your snarl turning into a whine. You clench your jaw against the sound for long
enough to plant your foot against his chest and shove. He goes toppling
backward with a blurted swear and you laugh as you get to your knees.
What composure that stunt gained you evaporates as you turn around and settle
forward onto your hands. You clench your jaw again against the stream of
nervous chatter your brain starts up with, you trolls are real animals always
doing it doggy style, or wait you had a different word for them didn't you,
you'd call it barkbeast style, but I sure as hell don't know any dogs that'd
jizz into buckets, man, that's fucked up, and you're concentrating so hard on
keeping that back you don't notice Karkat has recovered until he's pulling your
hips upward.
"Ass in the air, Dave," Karkat says, and when you fail to comply he shoves your
head down. You snarl and try to buck him off, a show of anger that ends
abruptly as he runs his fingers up your slit. Holy shit holy shit holy shit you
need that you need him, you burrow your face in your arms as you lift your ass
high, and groan despairingly when he doesn't shove his fingers into you.
Something smooth and cold pushes between your legs -- Karkat's bucket, it has
to be, as fucking ridiculous as the concept is. For a moment you just feel cold
and weird -- a bucket -- but that all vanishes as his fingers return, stroking
and teasing, and you blurt, "What the hell is wrong with you you sawed off
asshole, FUCK ME ALREADY--"
Karkat thrusts his fingers into you and you gasp the most embarrassing noise
you've ever made. It's almost creepy having his fingers inside of you and
almost too much, jesus, did he stick his entire fist in there? A few thrusts
later you decide that no, it's not too much, it's almost not enough, why are
his fingers so fucking stubby when you need him deeper, "Deeper, god damn it
Vantas--"
He slaps your ass hard enough to sting. "Stop fucking wriggling and maybe-- I-
- CAN--!"
You cry out at that last thrust as it finally, finally gets close to where you
want him. Karkat takes the hint and keeps slamming his fingers into you, and oh
jesus fuck it feels bizarre and so fucking good. You're more molten than ever,
a heavy heat all through your lower abdomen and a thick pressure that's making
your thrashing tentadick stiffen and throb, but it's not enough, it's not
enough, and you want to die because you're not sure you can take much more.
"Jesus shitting dicknipple christ Karkat you fuck like a turtle can't you go
any f-faster a-a-aah fucking HELL--"
"Nope," Karkat gasps as he reaches between your legs with his free hand, "but I
don't have to--"
He fists your sloppy wet tentadick and he doesn't jerk it so much as stroke and
squeeze it, what the fuck, but do you care? Like hell you do, you're panting
and moaning like you're dying and that pressure is too much, it's too much -
- and you're an earthquake Richter 9.9, shaking and screaming as that pressure
rolls through you and you empty yourself out in torrential bursts with every
jerk of your hips.
You shudder all through Karkat wringing the last little bit out of you and then
slump, empty of thoughts, empty of his fingers, empty of everything. You're
dimly aware of him cursing and yanking the bucket out from between your legs,
and with it gone you let yourself collapse in slow motion, a disaster area with
no survivors.
"Strider. Strider." Karkat pokes at you, but you don't deign to open your eyes.
"Dave. I didn't kill you, did I?"
"'Fraid to report that you did," you mumble, your words a worse slur of
syllables than ever. "Fucked to la petite mort, but calm your tits, I'll get
better. Nnh." You force your eyes open and realize your shades have fallen off.
You don't particularly care. "How the hell do you guys manage wanking if you
jizz out half your bodily fluids every time you have an orgasm?"
"There are ways around that." Karkat starts sliding your shades back onto your
face. It's almost sweet, until he jams them the rest of the way on at the end.
"Argh, fuck--" You swat his hand away and clumsily adjust your shades. "There
are ways around it and you made me ejaculate into a bucket."
"You're the one who was all gung ho for interpecies experimentation," Karkat
says, and drops your underwear onto your face. They're soaked and reeking of
sex, god damn it. He laughs as you claw them away with a disgusted noise. "I
was just obliging you! Come on, you have to admit that sure was some science we
just did."
"Hahaha, right on. You're a top lab rat, A plus, would perform sexy experiments
on again."  
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