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Hey There, Troll Casanova

Summary:

Just a bit of sleepy, sexy and slightly snarky fun.

Work Text:

He wakes up warm, almost overheated, pressed between the familiar soft scratch of an oversized sweater and the heavy weight of blankets pulled up over his shoulders. When he'd first drifted off, Karkat's arms had been wrapped around him. They've fallen away since then, but the steady contented rumbling spilling out of some blessed alien organ lodged in his boyfriend's upper thorax is still going strong. He sighs and lets his head drop back down, pressing his cheek and ear against it, letting it vibrate through him. His eyes slide shut and he's considering just letting himself be dragged back down into sleep when the timbre of the noise Karkat is making changes, pitching higher.

The thing is, he's gotten pretty good at recognizing all the alien growls and clicks and chirps and rumbles. So when Karkat's steady contentment-purr starts to stutter into something else, he has another, better idea instead.

Soft little clicks and chitters accompany the rumbling, and Karkat squirms beneath him. Dave lifts his head to watch his face. Karkat's eyelids flutter, but they don't quite open, and there's this tiny little crease between his brows. His breathing speeds up, just enough to be noticeable, and Dave swallows a laugh, tucking his face into Karkat's neck.

He knows enough by now to recognize his boyfriend's sex dreams.

So he starts by pressing kisses into the crease of his neck, working his way up slowly, until his mouth is right beside Karkat's sharp, tapered little alien ear. "Karkat," he whispers, very softly, drawing out his name. His cheeks heat up; he'd never do this unironically if Karkat were awake to actually hear it. "Hope you're dreamin' about me in there," he adds, kissing behind his ear. He actually worries about that a lot. It's fucking embarrassing. Another telltale chirp-chitter eases out, and Dave reaches up and feathers his fingers lightly through Karkat's hair. It's thick and a little damp with sweat; Dave clearly isn't the only one feeling slightly overheated.

He drags his fingers lightly around the base of one horn, eyes trained on Karkat's face. Karkat shifts again, hips twitching, and he makes a low little mmmh sound with his actual mouth, this time, so Dave dips down and captures that with his own. His heart kicks into a slightly higher gear as he does so, especially when he decides to just go ahead and slide a hand up under Karkat's sweater, tracing a direct path over the soft skin of his stomach and up over his ribs, stopping with his palm flat atop the overlapping bone plates in his chest. He can feel Karkat's heartbeat and his sexy alien growl vibrating under his fingers.

Karkat squirms under his touch, his lips soft and moving against Dave's, murmuring something totally unintelligible. His legs shift and move together, and Dave helpfully adjusts himself so he has one knee waiting between them when Karkat grinds his hips up. He just lets Karkat go like this for awhile, pressing a few more kisses to his lips and the corners of his mouth, until he can feel a telltale dampness join the heat against his knee and his dick starts to notice just what's happening, here.

He lifts his head. "Karkat," he whispers again, right into his ear.

"Mmh," Karkat responds, brows pulling downward. Dave lets out a low little embarrassing breathy giggle, still breathing pretty much directly into Karkat's earhole, and Karkat shakes his head and makes an irritated sound. His eyes blink open. His cheeks are still flushed, and more importantly, his crotch is still pressed up against Dave's knee, the obvious evidence of his arousal soaking into his shorts.

"Hey there, troll Casanova," Dave says. "Heard you were, like, cavorting naked across the dreambubbles, just grabbing on to doomed Daves left and right."

Karkat snorts at him. "No dreambubbles," he insists. "Just dreams." He shifts under him, taking stock of the situation. Pretty compromising, overall. He seems to come to the same conclusion, because the red in his cheeks goes a few shades brighter.

"Mm," Dave nods, dipping down to kiss him again. He's unreasonably thrilled when Karkat reciprocates eagerly, lips parting, tongue moving, all enthusiasm. It takes awhile before he can pull himself up again, but he doesn't mind. He wants to ask so bad if it was him Karkat was dreaming about, but that's pathetic, and pathetically jealous sounding, and he knows it, and he's practically biting his tongue to keep the question in anyway. Karkat studies his face and, naturally, figures out what he's thinking in roughly five seconds flat.

"I cannot believe that you are seriously gearing up right now to be jealous of a dream," Karkat says, and Dave feels himself go hot all over with unexpected humiliation. He ducks his head.

"I wasn't gonna ask," he mumbles.

"Liar."

"I was gonna try really hard not to ask," Dave amends, because, fair enough. Karkat sighs at him, and he feels his arms come up and around him, rubbing little circles into his back. Feels nice.

"I'll have you know, it's always you, you insecure, mumbling little shit! Who else? Are you going to finish what you started, or do I need to excuse myself to the ablution block for an extremely fucking cold shower, right now?"

"Troll Will Smith," Dave says, immediately, and Karkat actually thumps him on the back of the head, groaning.

"No! What the fuck?"

"Troll Ben Affleck."

"I'm going to actually kill you --"

"Troll Jude Law?"

Karkat growls at him, grabs him by the hair, and yanks his face down to kiss him quiet. Dave accepts this happily enough, and somewhere between running his tongue carefully over the points of Karkat's teeth and lifting his face up for a breath, Karkat's hands leave his hair and he grabs his wrist, instead. This he directs insistently downward, guiding Dave's fingers directly between his legs. So, of course, Dave teases him over the soaked fabric of his boxers, pressing his palm hard against him, moving his fingers back and forth over approximately all the right spots. Karkat grumbles at him, but he doesn't seem to mind much, because his hips start rocking all the same.

Dave can't make himself wait for long. He snakes his hand down under Karkat's waistband and finds his sheath, and the moment he slips a finger into the soft, wet heat of it, Karkat lets out a telltale gasp and accompanying sexy bug chitter-chirp and arches up into him while his bulge slides free in a fresh rush of slurry.

"Ah, fuck," Karkat groans, tilting his head back and biting his own bottom lip. Dave takes the opportunity to press a kiss into the side of his exposed throat, and then he pinches the sensitive skin there between his teeth, hard enough to leave a lasting mark. Karkat sucks air in between his teeth, and then exhales, harsh and ragged. "Keep going," he says, and the chittering sounds coming out of him seem to agree.

Karkat's bulge is wet and warm in his grip, and he knows exactly how to touch him by now. He can't help it; he fucking loves the way Karkat squirms and gasps and moans when he squeezes him just right. He gets him going easy, grinning into the crease of his neck. Karkat moans and bucks up into his hand, and every time he breathes Dave's name out on a shaking, breathy gasp, his cock throbs in response. Soon the tables have turned completely, with Dave breathing hard and grinding against Karkat's leg while he lets his bulge tangle greedily between his fingers.

Luckily, Karkat doesn't seem to mind.

It takes less time than usual; Karkat's bulge goes slightly stiffer in his hand, he makes a familiar keening sound, and warmth and wetness flood out of him in a languid wave, soaking Dave's hand and Karkat's thighs and the much abused bed beneath them. Karkat collapses back against the pillows when he's done, eyes closed, face flushed, and breathing hard. Dave studies his expression hungrily and moves his slicked up fingers to stroke himself, next. Karkat realizes what he's doing, and his eyes flutter open to watch, lips parting slightly.

"I could help you with that," he says, eyebrows arching.

"You are," Dave assures him, breathlessly, fingers working fast, and the way Karkat's eyes widen slightly in response and he turns his head and blushes like that's the lewdest thing that's happened all night is, in the end, enough to push him over. He covers his mouth with his free hand -- mostly clean -- and groans into his palm, letting his significantly less impressive mess join Karkat's between them.

"God," Karkat whispers, but Dave can't quite meet his eyes, yet, so instead he just flops back over onto Karkat's chest like there isn't a puddle of nasty sex stuff waiting for him. "You are fucking disgusting," Karkat informs him, but he's full of shit because his arms come up and lock around him, holding him tight against him anyway.

"Sure am," Dave sighs. His body is going all post-coitally languid and shit. Wasn't just his dick that got all floppy after a satisfying orgasm, no sir. That would be half assing it, obviously. "You like me anyway."

"Unfortunately," Karkat huffs, but his claws are playing fondly at the wispy hairs at the back of Dave's neck, and Dave can hear the smile in his voice. He smiles into Karkat's sweater -- significantly sweatier, now -- and lets his eyes flutter shut.

"If I have any sexy dreams," he says, "I just want you to know, I totally expect you to return the favor."

"If you have any sexy dreams, they're going to be interrupted in about fifteen minutes, when I throw your ass out of this bed and clear over into the ablution block!"

"Yeah, right. You say that like nothing sexy has ever happened in a shower, before."

Karkat thumps the back of his head, again. "We'll see," he says, and he manages to make it sound almost ominous.

Almost.