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It's movie night, and after weeks of whining at John to watch one of his dumb romcoms John has finally given in, and Karkat's not even paying attention.
It's been about five minutes since Karkat started squirming. He was sitting slouched back against the couch for a while, and then he moved to lean against the couch arm. Then he picked his legs from the floor and folded them underneath him. Then he folded forward over his knees to watch the movie. Now he's sitting leaning forward over his legs with his feet on the floor, and John watches him move to lean back again and draws his legs onto the couch with him. He is angled just a little bit in John's direction, like he's being influenced by his gravitational pull.
Karkat isn't even looking at the TV. His eyes are half-lidded and his cheeks are flushed a cherry red. John can't hear his breaths but the curve of his back lifts and falls quickly enough that he thinks Karkat might be panting. His sharp teeth hang on to his lip tightly, like it might at any moment fall out of line. John looks at him for a while because Karkat kinda reminds him of a porcelain doll with a curly-haired frame for his face, but with grey skin, of course. Especially with his cheeks flushed like that.
A little, sharp breath races out of his nose. It's too short to be a sigh, too strong to be just any breath. He's panting. Karkat's eyelids droop a little lower and he runs a hand through his hair, pulling it back and away from his forehead. His hand stops, lingering over his shoulder, elbow on his knee and creating a black long-sleeved-turtleneck banded background.
He looks at the TV with the same amount of interest as he might regard plastic house panelling and sighs - pants - again. The sound plunges to John's belly and knots it with anxiety.
"Karkat," John says. "Are you okay?"
"I'm ffuh-" the sound falls out of him as a pant crashes into it. John's eyebrows knot in suspicion. "FINE," he corrects with ghusto. "Stop staring at me and watch the movie!"
From the TV Troll Jack Black argues with his moirail about the appearance of the troll he is courting as his matesprit, but John's eyes remain on Karkat a little longer as his troll boyfriend's eyelids droop. The dialogue drops long enough for John to catch another sharp breath from Karkat. Hff.
Hff.
"Karkat," John says, and turns toward him. Karkat's head dips toward John slightly before he pulls back, meeting John's gaze and trying to be wide-eyed casual; black iris knife wounds on bright orange. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong with me!" He snaps back, his words hanging heavy with air, the ghost of his usual force. "You're being a shit sniffing huntbeast is what's wrong! Why don't you watch the fucking movie!"
"But you're not watching the movie. And you sound like you just ran up a flight of stairs!"
"I do not! And I've seen this before so who cares?" John snakes his arm around Karkat's shoulders, and watches his eyes widen. His teeth unclench. "I want you to watch it."
John gives Karkat a tug and the rigid troll flops sideways, still curled around his knees, head dropping onto John's shoulder. After a long minute of hilarious restauraunt hijinx, Karkat slowly unravels himself, one hand on John's chest and his knee cautiously shifts to rest on John's thigh. And John returns to the uncanny valley to wonder at how much Troll Jack Black does and somehow doesn't look just like Human Jack Black.
Against his ribcage, John can feel Karkat's heart pounding against him like a restless cat's tail demanding affection. His arm around Karkat rises and falls pretty fast still which is weird. The little panting sounds he makes are louder too. He tries not to think about it until Karkat buries his face in his neck, hot breath giving him goosebumps.
Karkat nips at John's neck with his lips, sharp troll teeth ghosting his skin as he tilts his head to flick his tongue at John's earlobe. John bursts into a giggle and drives his shoulder up against his ear in response. His eyes peer up to see Karkat glaring down at him, jaw set.
"What?"
With a low growl, and a heavy breath, Karkat sits up and takes John's face between his hands, aggrieving him with kisses. One, two, three pecks against his lips and pressing his mouth, slightly open, against John's. The two watch each other, the movie chattering in the background, as Karkat's knee slips to the other side of John's leg and Karkat straddles his thigh.
Karkat groans, breath puffing against John's mouth as he closes his eyes and kisses him again. Karkat's clawed hands grab at John's shirt and clench tight, audibly ripping through the fabric of his Problem Sleuth Sepulchreitude tee, forcing himself against John's lips with nibbles and kisses and tongue.
John is caught up in Karkat's enthusiasm and returns his boyfriend's passionate kisses coyly. He feels Karkat's breath slipping out in fevered pumps against his mouth, each one passed to John with a sound - a groan or a growl - and he notes that Karkat is not usually quite this enthusiastic. Karkat shifts against his thigh, rotating his hips and he groans - hisses - and John glances up to see Karkat's eyes closed, biting his lip, expression folded in apologetic tension. That look he gets when John is exploring and he knows he's done something right.
Karkat drops his forehead against John's and it hurts. The pain of it flashes like a wave through John's skull quickly, but Karkat doesn't seem to register his discomfort. He just grinds, damp, against John's leg, tense and hissing a thin ffff until John's hands find his hips and hold him still. Karkat groans, growls, whines? in frustration and his hands twist in John's shirt, and it audibly rips further.
"Uh, Karkat?" John asks quietly and Karkat leans back, hips trying to shove forward, as he meets John's gaze. "Are you okay?"
"Do I look okay?" Karkat barks, a desperate whine against his razor-edged voice. Even when he isn't being loud, it pierces, and the little sound behind it is the saddest thing John's ever heard and he wants to hug Karkat tight and never let go. "I'm going out of my fucking mind here!"
"Uh, okay," John says, doing his best to stay level-headed. Okay, okay, okay. "So, uh. What is your problem? Exactly?"
"Oh, this is rich," Karkat's teeth grind together and John holds his hips still as he struggles to continue rocking back and forth unconsciously. "Hey, Karkat! You sure seem to be making a full-blown fucking ass of yourself. Why don't we talk about how you're humping my leg like a barkbeast, to guarantee your guilt and regret to lose sleep over later? I think we ought to talk about it instead of just getting the fuck off and having it over and done with."
"You know I don't want that," John says softly, and holds Karkat still as he groans again, dropping his head against John's shoulder and trying to lower his hips. Instead John shifts his leg a little, brushing Karkat's nook and causing him to whimper into John's hair. "I just uh. Want to know what you're doing. You don't usually act like this!"
"Fuck. I know, John! You don't think I know when I should be hiding my shame globes instead of sticking my face in them?" Karkat wraps his arms around John's neck in a hug and pants into his shoulder. He makes a sound that starts high and descends through despair and anger. "I just... I need to... fucking... fuck! I'm just so... RRRGHHH." A sharp breath moves John's hair around the nape of his neck and Karkat tries to thrust his hips down again and John lets him. When Karkat can't even come up with words to hide behind there must be some kind of problem. He touches down on John's thigh with a soft "oh," clutches at the back of John's shirt, and ruts against his leg again.
"Karkat," John says, and moves to hold Karkat's hips still again. "Hold on for a second."
"John, I can't," Karkat pleads, his voice raising in pitch with desperation. "I have to. Please."
John hesitates as Karkat squirms and pants heavy breaths into his hair, claws tightening more holes into his Problem Sleuth shirt. "What happened to you?"
"I don't know, fuck!" Karkat groans a trembling note that waves from tenor to bass. "Fuck. Just. Just let me make an ass of myself for a little while, okay? It's not like I fuck don't do it all the time anyway. Just... just let me get this out."
John spends a long moment wondering about Karkat, who pants against his neck, hips shifting involuntarily against his leg. He groans, frustrated. Karkat's enthusiasm is pretty... encouraging! His groans run up and down John's spine, but his head still pauses with worry. Maybe Karkat is broken. Maybe he needs tomato soup with bread, or peanut butter milkshakes like when he's sick. Or maybe he needs to just get a splash of cold water or a shower. "Maybe we should take you to a doctor?"
"Yes, John," Karkat speaks into his shoulder, "let's go to a human doctor and try to explain that something's wrong with your alien boyfriend! He just wants to pail! Please help me with advice and perhaps prescription drugs and if you don't lock him away for the rest of his life to be fucked by white cyclops monsters, that would be great." He pants against John's neck, his hips shifting as much as John lets them against his leg. John can feel his swollen bone bulge too and it makes him hard, but John still can't help remembering that one time when Rose gave a lecture to Terezi about consent after Dave ate two boxes of Kahlua chocolates at her Christmas party. Even if Karkat said it was okay, was it really okay?
"John," Karkat moans. "I'm going crazy here. Please let go." John's heart aches. He can't say no to Karkat.
"So it's like you need some sexual healing?" John chuckles, and relaxes his arms so Karkat can move.
Karkat groans against John's ear and, breathily, answers "what? Yeah. Okay. Sure," as he grinds hard, shivering, against John's thigh, hissing a mantra of "fuck fuck fuck." John reaches down and rubs between Karkat's legs, and the troll's spine bends back, and forward, smooshing his cheek against John's shoulder as he shudders.
John forgets to be disappointed that Karkat didn't get his joke when he sees how intense he is. Whenever they fooled around Karkat's body and voice would always betray him, and it was fascinating to see compared to the caps-lock bloodletting leader he tried to be. But Karkat had never been like this before, and when John strokes at his boyfriend's nook through his pants Karkat squeaks, gasps, and groans, claws clipping at John's skin as they clench and unclench in the back of his shirt. John presses his fingers against that gap, Karkat panting and hissing in his ear until he gets impatient and grinds into John's hand with a growl. "Ah, fuck!"
"Karkat," John scolds, pulling his hand out from between Karkat's crotch and his own leg. Karkat growls and shivers at the friction, leaning back to look at John when he says, "you're cheating."
"How am I cheating? There is no cheating, this isn't a game," Karkat barks, face still flushed red and one eye closed as he humps John's leg, grabbing his lip with his teeth and suppressing a "hnnng."
"Uh," John grabs at Karkat's hips again and pulls him close, earning a sharp glare from the troll. "Here," he says and tugs Karkat to the side. Karkat hesitates before catching on, and leans a moment to lift his leg and shift to straddle John fully, and he slides right up, searching for John's half-hard cock to rut against through his jeans. It's John's turn to gasp lightly while Karkat folds his expression into concentration, reaching with his hands to verify that it is, in fact, John's penis and that it's not quite up to full stature like it seems Karkat was expecting.
Karkat takes the initiative to fix this problem by grabbing John's shoulders and pushing him over, laying John out on the couch. Karkat places his hands on either side of John's head, and closes his eyes, biting his lip. He shifts his hips to rub the length of his nook - painfully slowly - against John's cock. The motion is punctuated with the pressure of Karkat's swollen bulge, advancing when his nook had retreated. The two boys shudder in unison, John grunting a comma where Karkat groans an exclamation point. It's John's turn to clench his hands into Karkat's clothes, hooking his fingers into the waistband of Karkat's pants. His skin is hot and the troll hisses at the touch. John fumbles at the cloth. He wants it gone but the grinding feels so good and he doesn't want it to stop don't stop.
Karkat moves against John slowly, but pushes down hard until the two of them are hot, damp, and red with whatever it is that comes out of Karkat. In a frenzy of excited groping, John undoes the button on Karkat's pants and runs his hands over the troll's bare hips, running his thumbs over his pelvic bones and pressing lightly into the skin over where muscles point in an arrow back to John, and to where a whole lot of amazing stuff is going on. Karkat brings his face close and between pants and groans and hisses the boys kiss and nip at each other's mouths. John is close to coming in his pants and wonders groggily how Karkat, who was so eager, hasn't already slipped over the edge himself.
"John," Karkat pants, pulling away from John's face but continuing to rub slowly against his junk, "I want you to pail me."
"Yeah," John grunts, bucking against Karkat, who just said some weird alien sex thing. "What?"
"I want to do this thing, for real," he replies, and in spite of his proposition he doesn't stop moving against John's crotch for a moment. "We should stop fucking around and just. Fuck."
Karkat shivers above him with the friction of his grinding and John's words catch in his throat. He could hold Karkat's hips still if he wanted to, but he doesn't. He just wants to bring him down harder, faster. "The f- full sex?"
"Yeah," Karkat sighs, too distracted to berate John on how stupid he sounds. The movie, long forgotten, has begun rolling credits.
"Uh," John blinks and holds Karkat's hips. Oh god, he doesn't want it to stop but he just needs to think for a second. Karkat makes up for the lack of friction by kissing him instead, nipping and sucking on his lips. "Do we - uh - do we need a condom or something?"
"For what?" Against his mouth Karkat talks like a regular person for once, breathy and words round, but his force returns quickly. "Are you afraid you're going to get me pregnant, John? It doesn't work like that."
"Right, okay. But," John absently grinds up into Karkat, and the two of them groan. "What if like, hff, what if you're hurt. By all of my, my human germs."
"I won't be," Karkat mutters into John's ear, nipping at the lobe.
John sighs. "How do you know?"
"Terezi," he whispers his reply. "I'd rather not think about it."
"Ah," John sighs as Karkat kisses his neck, and John slides his hand into Karkat's pants, maneuvering between his legs. "Are you sure?"
Karkat groans. "Nnnnghhh yes. Oh, yes."
"Okay," John says, or at least, tries to say, but it comes out in a weird whisper instead. "Okay. Yeah."
As soon as John's fingers brush Karkat's nook, the thin tentacle slides out of his bone bulge and curls around his wrist and John wishes he'd thought this through a little more. They don't even have their pants off yet, and at his touch Karkat trembles and drops forward, faceplanting into John's shoulder. Karkat whimpers and his thighs tremble. It's all he can do to keep his hips up while John's middle finger strokes his opening. Karkat's breath rushes out of him and burns hot against John's collarbone. Red genetic fluid runs down John's arm, and Karkat's tentacle penis thing pulsates to the rhythm of his heartbeat.
John is suddenly met with another wave of guilt. At how out of control his boyfriend is and how much Karkat absolutely needs him right now. John finds it to be almost as flattering as it is sad. He moves his free hand away from Karkat's hip and wraps it around his shoulders, running it up, backwards, through Karkat's hair. John thinks Karkat's bulge is pushing his hand further toward his nook, and he'll do that in just a second, after he buries his face in Karkat's hair, horn pushing uncomfortably against his cheekbone. "I love you."
Karkat sighs and turns his head toward John, mouth against the steep slope of his jaw. John just feels the heat of Karkat's panting breath for a moment and waits for him to say something. What the fuck are you saying or get to doing what I fucking tell you, but Karkat answers with a bleary "I know."
They had talked about how small Karkat's nook was, and how supposedly huge John's penis was and they didn't really worry about it much until right now, full sex zero hour. John slips one finger inside Karkat and is met with a moan wrapped in a sigh. With the second one, he groans, and his bulge tightens around John's wrist. John reaches in as deep as he can into Karkat's nook, and his breath hitches once, fluid pouring down John's arm. It's a whole lot weird and a little bit creepy - or it would be if it wasn't Karkat. Shivering, panting Karkat, who John one-arm-hugs a little tighter and moves his fingers around in. Karkat lets out a sound like "huahhh" and his back arches and he exhales through a bit lip with a prolonged "fffff." It's tight and hot and wet and the thought of being in there makes him twitch because wow.
John presses a third finger inside Karkat who hisses and clenches his fists into John's shirt as John enters, slowly, and pushes in as far as he can. Karkat shudders and his bulge squeezes tight against John's wrist like a snake. "Fuuuck," Karkat groans, his breath catching on a gasp and rushing back when John twitches his fingers.
"Are you okay?" John asks into Karkat's hair, losing feeling in his hand from the squeezing on his wrist.
"Yes," Karkat pants. "Fuck yes."
"Did you... want to...?" John asks cautiously and he feels heat rush into his face. His fingers weave around inside Karkat's nook and he shudders.
"Yes," Karkat croons with enthusiasm, shifting his arms under him and climbing back to his hands and knees. It takes several long moments of concentration before his bulge loosens its grip on John's wrist. John pulls his fingers slowly from Karkat's nook and he whimpers loudly with loss, his bulge clenching at John's arm. Slowly, carefully, and without pulling against the thin tentacle, John unwinds it. He's learned the hard way that it's a very sensitive piece of anatomy, and when it finally releases him it squirms restlessly against Karkat's pelvis.
Karkat pauses, soaked in his own fluid, eyes half lidded and breathing heavily as his tentacle curls in on itself. The television fills the room with a solid blue, the DVD long over, making the stains between his legs appear to be a rich purple. He looks so beautiful, hair a bit messy and with bits stuck to his face, one black lock hanging to the corner of his lip. John thinks to sit up to kiss him when Karkat finally moves, lifting his knee and climbing off of him.
Karkat sits himself on the edge of the couch and wedges his wet pants down over his hips and his knees, sets them on the floor and steps his feet out of them. John sits forward and slips his hand under Karkat's sweater, palming at the contours of the troll's back, and helping to pull it over his boyfriend's head. Karkat tugs his arms from the sleeves while John nuzzles kisses over his shoulders. Karkat's skin is surprisingly warm and his head tilts back and he sighs, enjoying the sensation a moment before turning to face John.
"I ruined your shirt," he says, copying John's motions and slipping his fingers underneath the garment and running his hands up John's bare chest. John raises his arms and Karkat pulls the tattered shirt over his head, and immediately busies himself with unbuttoning John's jeans. John struggles to keep himself from bucking up against Karkat's hands, and instead runs kisses up and down Karkat's neck. The troll sighs, and tugs at John's pants. John lifts his hips and Karkat yanks, dragging his jeans - wet and purple in the light - to the floor, and pulls John's ankles free, right, then left.
"It's f- fine," John says, maybe a little delayed, breath catching as Karkat brushes John's penis with his palm, running over the head. He's slick with a little precum but mostly covered in Karkat's just-a-little-bit-sticky watery red goo that stains and John mind flicks for a moment at how he's going to alchemize a new couch. One to go with the new sheets and mattress he made earlier after previous adventures in fooling around. With some clever maneuvering he made Ghost Slime shirt sheets and accidentally combined the wrong part of the code for those sheets with a pack of gushers (green slime ghost gushers?) he made Randy Red Raspberry flavour and hid them in the back of-
Oh.
Karkat climbs back onto John's lap. With their bits so close, Karkat's tentacle reaches out to curve against John's penis, catching under that ridge and it's John's turn to shudder. Thoughts of anything but Karkat fall out of his head at his boyfriend's touch. Karkat pulls his bulge away from John, only to lift his hips and poise himself above him. Karkat descends, and John's breath rushes out when his tip contacts Karkat's opening. Karkat himself, shivers, and he presses his hands against John's chest. John sees Karkat's elbows and thighs tremble. His eyes close, and he eases himself down, tentacle squirming as John slips inside.
The sound John makes is embarrassing and he slams his hands over his mouth to stifle it. Karkat, on the other hand, is quiet with concentration. Small, half-formed whimpers come out of him as he slides a little further down on John, who gasps and groans into the palms of his hands. The feeling is not like anything, ever. Karkat is so warm, soft, and almost too tight, squeezing his most sensitive part almost uncomfortably. If John tried to say something in real words he might just babble incoherently, so he voices his approval in muffled groans.
Karkat sits straight, hands shifting to rest on John's stomach. He chews his lip as he lifts his hips up - John squawks - and brings himself down again, a little bit further. John reaches a little bit deeper. Karkat lifts his hips and descends onto John once more and finally rests with every bit of him inside. John bites the meaty side of his palm with his teeth and the two of them pant like the whole penetrating ordeal was some sort of really awesome boss battle, except neither of them were fighting. This is really nothing like fighting at all, actually.
Karkat rolls his hips with a contented "mmm" and John gasps so hard he chokes on air. Karkat's hands fold, scratching John just a little, against his stomach. The troll's head lolls to the right, hair hanging over his eyes as he moves.
John can feel everything. The muscles in Karkat's nook, how warm and soft it is. How chokingly tight it is. John gasps when Karkat lifts and drops his hips again and groans, "nnnggh, Karkat."
"John," Karkat responds, his voice full of breath as he pulls away. Up. Slowly. So John can feel everything. The lips of Karkat's nook slide tight around him and he groans, helplessly, into his hand.
John knows that trolls don't so much do the in-and-out sort of thing like humans do. They like the wiggling-around inside motions. Karkat rolls his hips to emulate the feeling, bending over so his back shapes the curve of a question mark. His head drops between his shoulders and John watches his stomach surge and retreat with each sharp breath. Karkat rolls, and slips up and down on John's penis to even out the pleasure for both of them. John, though, just loves every part. He moans and gasps behind his knuckles, wishing that Karkat was maybe a little less tight. He's so soft, and so hot, and with a gasp some of Karkat's genetic stuff drips over John's testicles and he throbs. It feels so good and he's so close and he just wants to push into Karkat and climax but he can't because it kind of hurts. John bucks up into Karkat who groans and opens his hands against John's belly to say stop, and he rolls against John who emits an embarrassing "ah!"
At the very base of John's stomach, Karkat's bulge coils like a worm, freed from the earth. It pulls at John's stomach-not-quite-pubic hair, and occasionally flicks forward to catch in his bellybutton. John chews on his right hand and reaches to Karkat's bulge with his left. Karkat hiccups as it wraps between John's fingers, the tip pushing at his palm, and John wraps his fingers around it, giving a gentle squeeze. Karkat gasps and shudders. John runs his thumb over a smooth length of the thing and Karkat's jaw locks, a sharp grunt forcing out between his teeth. John sighs, squeezes it again, and bucks into Karkat, who finally comes with a dramatic cry, spraying red stuff all over everywhere. He coats John's hands and stomach and lurches forward, dropping his head onto John's shoulder. Karkat shivers, groaning, mutters "oh my fucking god", and puffs a sigh into John's collarbone.
They're covered in Karkat's genetic material and it's kinda gross but John moves his gnawed hand to wrap around Karkat, pulling him in to hug tightly. Hugs are good. Hugs are always good. John tilts his head to push his face into Karkat's hair and sighs. "Are you okay?"
Karkat's reply is a groan, but he moves to wrap his red-soaked hands around John's neck, and leans his head into him. Karkat's bulge loosens against John's hand, but when John tries to pull away it tightens again, demanding attention with a gasp from the troll.
Stuck, and tense to bursting, John whimpers apologetically and slides his free hand to push on Karkat's lower back before pushing up into him. They both groan together, Karkat's hands clenching to leave little scratches on John's shoulders. John feels kind of awful and greedy but Karkat just moans as John thrusts up into him. Still so good and soft and John can feel that Karkat's nook has relaxed. The tension gone, he pushes into Karkat, sighing, the walls of his nook twitching against him occasionally. John feels himself trembling when Karkat lifts his head and plants a kiss against John's cheek - close to his ear - and begins to move his hips in time to John's motions. Karkat pulls up when John pulls down, and they meet in the middle about three times before John groans and pushes down on Karkat's lower back, holding him still so he can push up once, twice, before gasping to climax. His hand folds into a fist to hold Karkat against him, all the way in, and John shudders inside twitching Karkat, and squeezes his bulge involuntarily.
John waits for the fireworks behind his eyes to stop, fingers wriggling against Karkat's back and scratching there when Karkat rolls his hips with a satisfied hum. Sensitive, John hiccups and grabs at Karkat's hips. "Stop!" He says, in a voice not his own. "Stop."
"I can't," Karkat sighs against his ear, pushing his warm cheek against John's. "I don't want to."
"I can't keep going like this!" John shivers, pushing at Karkat's hips to ease him away. "I'm gonna, uh... need a minute."
Karkat hesitates before he follows John's instruction and whimpers slightly as he pulls off, John's penis slipping out. Karkat almost takes John's bulge-wrapped hand with him as he moves to sit next to him on the couch, dropping his head against John's shoulder.
John lets his head rest on top of Karkat's, maneuvering so his cheek sits between his horns. He wants to rub his hands through his hair but they're sticky with Karkat's red fluid stuff. It's everywhere, staining his skin and his couch. John really wants to go, wash up and get clean clothes on, curl up in bed and cuddle with Karkat until they fall asleep. But Karkat gets nightmares when he sleeps in bed with John. He does it once in a while but John always feels bad, and Karkat's still being weird and if he gets up to shower now he'll just have to clean up again after. And he can't get up now anyway because Karkat slides his leg over John's, tentacle bulge snaking over his thigh, and lifts his head up to trail his teeth across John's neck.
Karkat's bare arms reach around John's head and he turns him to meet his mouth. Karkat's back arches as he kisses John, lips wet and tongue searching. His hands cradle John's face and pull him closer, as if John could get any closer than faces mushed together, glasses bumping askew from John's nose. Karkat wants him so bad and John loves him so much but he kinda feels bad that Karkat's messed up. He wraps his arm around his warm troll boyfriend and kisses him chastely, squeezing him in a super loving boyfriend-hug. Karkat growls against his mouth and his tentacle bulge retreats from around John's thigh. He doesn't have time to be confused before Karkat hooks his ankle around his leg to flip him over, and falls back against the arm of the couch, taking John by his face down with him.
Karkat humms, his mouth wet and slipping over John's lips, reaching with his tongue to meet him, dizzy. John tries to hold the kiss while he rearranges himself over Karkat so they're parallel. Karkat's leg stays hooked over John's and when he's close enough, his tentacle penis thing goes searching, running up between John's thighs and prying against the bone there. It brushes against John's junk before moving on, uninterested while he's not erect. He's a little disappointed, since having Karkat's bulge around him is whoa, his favorite thing, at least, until the full sex. That's his new favorite thing.
John pulls away from Karkat's kisses with a loud smack of lips, and has to pull his head back as Karkat chases after. The troll groans in frustration, bucks into John and unintentionally rubs his nook along John's thigh again, causing him to shudder.
"Karkat," John speaks, his voice quiet because it's dark and he's being sexy or something.
"What?" Karkat snaps, shivering as he ruts against John's thigh again. His bulge falls back against his stomach to allow for friction.
"Did you eat some of the gushers I had in my room? In the chest?"
Karkat groans, his goo running down John's leg. "Yeah. So? Did you not want me to eat your fucking gushers, John? Is this really the time? The answer is no! No, it's not the fucking time! Fuck."
"I'm not mad!" John says, letting Karkat do his thing against his leg there. "They were just kinda... funny."
"Funny?" Karkat echoes, one eye half-open, the other one squeezed shut as he hisses, rubbing against John. He trembles and slows and his eyes blink open and he barks, "you poisoned me!"
"You're not dead!" John assures, as best as he can.
"No, but!" Karkat hisses as he shoves his nook against John's leg. "This is worse!"
"Don't say that," John says, planting a kiss on Karkat's forehead. "It's not worse than being dead! It'll get better!"
"Not until after I'm done shaming myself, dumping genetic material all over the fucking house and begging to be pailed like some sort of... seadweller highblood I used to know." Karkat grits his teeth, and gets halfway through rutting at John's leg before he stops and throws his hands over his mouth. Karkat screams, long and exasperated, into his hands while John tries to tug them from his face. "Just put me out of my misery while I still have some fucking pride!"
"Karkat, it's fine," John says, using his most reassuring voice. "You'll be fine, it's not like anyone's going to know."
"I'll know," Karkat growls and bucks thoughtlessly, groaning in frustration as his body shivers with pleasure. "Fuck."
"It's not that bad," John reassures, tugging at Karkat's wrist to pull his hand from his face, while using his other hand to prop himself up off of the couch. "We got to do all this neat stuff, right? You liked it too, didn't you? I, uh, thought it was pretty awesome!"
Karkat groans and finally lets John pull one of his hands away, and Karkat meets his gaze with cat-like yellow eyes.
"Hey!" John greets him, smiling.
"Hi," says Karkat.
John leans over and kisses his boyfriend on his pointy teeth, and weasels his arms between Karkat and the couch, hugging him tight. The movement brushes Karkat's nook, and he bucks up against John's pelvis with a groan. "I'll take care of you, okay?"
"Okay," Karkat hisses as his body refuses to do what it's told. "Uuuugh, I ha... hate you so much."
"Yeah, I know," John chuckles, sliding his arms back out from underneath Karkat, and running his hands over the scarred gashes on his sides. Karkat said they were scars from when he had extra legs as a baby or something, which is pretty weird, but it's okay. He loves how weird Karkat is. He loves Karkat.
John sits up and Karkat whimpers as he pulls away, reaching after him and snatching John's glasses. Karkat stares at them, bewildered, like he's never seen them in his life, and John's chest fills with a happy warmth as he slides further down the couch. Karkat's foot hooks John's hip, a poor attempt at keeping him close. John takes his ankle and unhinges him, settles in between Karkat's legs and reaches for Karkat's bulge. John runs his fingers up from where it comes out of Karkat, gently pushing against the smooth, weird thing while Karkat gasps. His free hand scrambles for grip of the couch while the other hangs on to John's glasses.
John's palm touches down against Karkat's bulge, which reacts by wrapping around John's hand, squeezing his fingers together. John leans and kisses experimentally at the smooth skin, and Karkat's eyes widen with a silly "uh?" When John runs his tongue along it, Karkat gasps like John had just thrown him into a lake in the winter. John runs his thumb up across the base of the tentacle and kisses it, his lips separated against the skin. Karkat's bulge squeezes John's hand until it tingles, while Karkat groans - squeaking at the end - his back arching. "Fuck!"
John's free hand holds on to the inside of Karkat's thigh as he nibbles at the bulge with his lips. Karkat cries out, the sound seeming to thrum through him from his throat into his stomach, and from there straight between John's legs. Karkat's bulge pushes against John's mouth, retreating from his hand while John kisses it, ghosting his teeth over sensitive skin, flicking his tongue out and listening to Karkat pant and whimper. "Oh my god," Karkat hisses, and John grabs at the tentacle to keep it from twisting into into his mouth. He'd love to hear Karkat's noises, but the way his bulge moves and the idea of it pushing against the inside of his cheeks is a bit more than John can handle. He makes up for it by rubbing his thumb against the base and moving his other hand to stroke gently against Karkat's nook as he shudders. John leaves a trail of kisses along Karkat's bulge and moves down, brushing his lips against Karkat's nook and making the troll squirm. A clawed hand buries itself in John's hair and pushes his nose into the crook between his legs.
Karkat is kinda musty and sort of spicy-tangy as John licks him, and Karkat's fingers flex in his hair. John rubs his thumb against Karkat's entrance and Karkat grinds against his face. John moves his chin up, red with Karkat's fluid and holds his bulge in place as he kisses it again, lips wet. John moves down to run his tongue up and down, across that sensitive zone while stroking the tentacle with his fingers. Karkat gasps and whimpers and when John pushes his tongue against his entrance, Karkat says "John" with a burst of air and a little whine. His long claws dig in to John's scalp uncomfortably.
"Ouch," John murmurs between Karkat's legs and the troll opens his hand and pats against John's hair.
"Sssssorry," Karkat hisses.
John vocalizes his forgiveness in a hum, and the feeling makes Karkat say "oh." He rotates his hips again and John smiles. He opens his mouth and licks up Karkat's nook and says "ahhhh." Karkat clenches his hand, clenches his jaw and makes a strangled sound, tangling his hand in John's hair. Karkat's legs kick and one heel hooks a grip on the centre cushion, his other on the carpet. His spine bends and Karkat pushes his hips toward John as he licks him, bumping against his nose.
John laughs and peeks up at Karkat from over his bulge. "You're trying to smother me!"
"I'm sorry," Karkat hisses. "Don't stop."
"Okay," John croons, and squeezes Karkat's bulge, turning his mouth toward it and running his teeth across it. Karkat whimpers as John slips his fingers into his nook. He runs his tongue greedily over Karkat's bulge while he moves his fingers. Karkat's head falls back with a groan and he bucks his hips, whimpering when he pushes John deeper. John reaches, rubbing, searching around inside. He twists his hand and slips a third finger in and Karkat moans, his thighs trembling as his bulge squeezes John's hand. John opens his mouth against the tentacle, nipping with his lips along its length, breathing heavily and ghosting it with his teeth. Karkat lets out a strangled cry, head falling forward, chin against his chest as his bulge pulsates, tightening around John. His nook trembles around John's fingers. John presses and strokes its walls gently and gives Karkat's bulge a gentle squeeze before running his tongue up right from where it meets Karkat's nook. Karkat cries out, his voice dropping in a whimper as he bucks his hip and comes, spilling more red stuff over his stomach and down John's arm.
John retrieves his hand from Karkat's nook, as the troll drops, panting against the couch. John notes how much less goo there is from before as he runs the back of his arm across his face to clean up. Carefully, John rotates his other hand to free it from Karkat's twitching bulge, only to have it squeeze stubbornly around him once again.
John's heart pounds as he thinks for a moment that maybe he really did break Karkat. What if Karkat just stays like this forever? What if Karkat just stays hot and bothered all the time? There would just be red goo everywhere, and John wouldn't even have time to make new stuff! They wouldn't be able to watch movies ever again, or draw pictures together at the dinner table while eating cereal. Karkat would be too busy groping him to tell him when he was doing things wrong in Zelda. Karkat would be too busy kissing him to listen to John's rousing rendition of How Do I Live.
"John," Karkat says, panting a little and holding his glasses between two hands. Karkat folds the arms out and he holds them up. John puts his free hand down on the couch by Karkat's waist and lowers his head so Karkat can hook his glasses back over his ears.
"You're amazing," John says, and kisses Karkat. Once right on the lips and one right in the corner of his mouth.
"You're a mess," Karkat says, his eyes closing. John studies his boyfriend's long pretty eyelashes. "I'm a mess. We're a motherfucking disaster."
"It's fine," John says, kissing Karkat again. The troll sighs as John slides his hand into his hair, at the back of his head. It's not like everyone wasn't filthy anyway. John also scoots his hips up to brush his penis against Karkat's bulge, stubbornly attached to his hand. Karkat's eyes flutter open and he makes a little sound in response.
"Here," Karkat says and shuffles back toward the arm of the couch, sitting up straight, his bulge slowly unraveling, reluctant to release John's hand. He reaches out to John and pulls him closer, kicking his legs up over John's thighs and tugging him until their hips push together. Karkat's bulge curls around John's boner and he lets out a sigh of his own, placing his hands on Karkat's waist, noting Karkat's lack of bellybutton. John's hips lift, thrusting against Karkat's tentacle as it squeezes him gently, beating with Karkat's pulse. John drops his head forward and meets Karkat's, brushing his hand across where the two of them meet, and they groan together, tense and sensitive.
"John," Karkat sighs, shivering at his touch. John tips his head to an angle to catch Karkat's lips and is met whole-heartedly. They kiss, lips smacking and teeth knocking while John ghosts his hand around Karkat's bulge, coiled around his penis. John trembles when he lets himself slip his palm across the head, and Karkat groans and throbs when John rakes his hands around him.
Karkat reaches between them and smacks John's hands away from their entanglement, instead running both of his hands up and down across them, careful to keep his long claws at a distance. John lets out an embarrassing whimper, and turns his head to hide in his shoulder, but Karkat's teeth catch on his lips instead to keep him still. Karkat rolls his hips up slightly, his warm slick nook touching up against John's cool testicles, and his breath rushes out. He settles his hands on Karkat's hips and rolls up against him, thrusting into Karkat's hands and against his bulge with a slightly less embarrassing groan. The tentacle twitches, slick, against John's penis and he can't help but mutter an "oh, wow." Karkat responds by laughing, a little wicked chuckle behind a fanged, toothy grin; like he laughs when something proves him right, or when he scores a particularly sick burn against Dave behind a computer monitor. John kisses his smiling teeth.
There's something about that tentacle around his dick that is pretty gross, a weird creepy thing from an alien boyfriend, but it feels so good every time it moves that any attention to appearance doesn't last long. It latches on too well for him to hump into it, but every twitch and throb sends sharp knives of amazing right into John's spine. Karkat rubs the base of his thumb over John's head before running his hands down in a sort of double handjob, and Karkat hisses into John's mouth. A hot red stream of fluid leaks from Karkat's bulge and he runs it down the length of them, wet and slipping and Karkat twitches and John lets out a strangled groan. One more sweep of Karkat's hand, slick with fluid and a throb from his bulge and John comes with a whimper, releasing over Karkat's stomach. He drops his head onto Karkat's shoulder and pants to catch his breath.
Karkat's hands continue running back and forth around them and John twitches involuntarily with a gasp and a "stop!" before Karkat makes an effort to ease his bulge away from John. He closes his eyes and sighs, letting it roll between his fingers and flex in his palm, his breath against John's ear. Karkat uses his other hand to wrap around John's back, holding him close while he jerks himself off in an alien way that doesn't really utilize the word "jerk" in any sense whatsoever.
After taking a moment to recover, John holds one arm over Karkat's shoulder and slides his hips back on the couch a bit. Karkat whines at the distance before John slips his hand down between Karkat's legs. The troll breathes an "oh" as John gently pushes into his nook. Karkat's back arches and he warbles and John sweeps around inside. Karkat whimpers, squeezes his bulge and comes, shuddering, a little splash of genetic material falling over John's semen on his stomach and washing it down between his legs.
Karkat gasps as John slips his fingers out, and he pants and pulls John with one arm closer to him. John hugs Karkat's shoulders and squeezes him tight while he shudders down from his high, and Karkat hums fondly in reply. John holds him, and waits for Karkat's breath to even out, settle down, and humors a worry that it might never happen; that Karkat might be broken forever. But after a moment John feels Karkat's bulge slip against his groin, retreating back inside him in a feat of anatomical weirdness that John thinks will never be trumped.
"If you tell anyone about this," Karkat speaks in a stage whisper, "I'll jam that fucking pop-a-matic Vrillyhoo hammer so far up your waste chute your bilgesac will have to be surgically removed from your think pan."
John has no idea what that means, so he just laughs and Karkat paps him in the face. John hugs him close and murmurs "I love you" into Karkat's hair.
"I love you," Karkat answers, barely, his voice shy and timid and afraid to admit it. John squeezes his shoulders and rocks him a bit. Karkat is so shy and so cute and John can hardly handle sometimes how much he loves this boy. Karkat grumbles at the affection, but does nothing about it, and John knows that shows how much Karkat really loves him, too.
"Let's get a shower together," John says eventually, the gooey mess against their stomachs grossing him out.
"Yes," Karkat answers.