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The man in the cell sits up from where he's been lying asleep. "Yo Vantas, looking good."
Oh great. He's talking today. Wonderful.
Karkat ignores him, but of course that tactic is next to useless.
The problem is he shouldn't be talking to Karkat like this. He shouldn't be talking to Karkat at all.
See, Dave Strider is a prisoner. He was captured almost half a sweep ago, one of the four leaders of the very last known pocket of human resistance to Alternian rule on earth.
Normally he would be a slave to some higher up right now but he ended up killing every new master he was assigned, and the Empress decided maybe that kind of life was a little too much fun for him. Enter newly appointed threshecutioner for the Alternian empire Karkat Vantas, the sworn enforcer of Dave Strider's solitary confinement. It's his duty to watch over Strider every day—to make sure he eats, shits regularly, and doesn't die.
It's a piss poor assignment, to be sure. But that's what happens when you're a mutant who's crawled his way up from nothing and finally been given half a shot. This is what he's wanted his whole life, after all. If Karkat knows one thing, it’s that he cannot under any circumstances fuck this job up. He won't.
"Hey, would you fuck me, Vantas?"
What? Actually, no. Ignore him.
Karkat shifts on his stool, putting the book he's reading higher in front of his rapidly warming face. He can admit to himself, and has many times before, that Strider is attractive for a human—tall, lean and muscled from a life of fighting, blood red eyes, dark skin littered with faint scars, and... hair. Hair everywhere. Hair that hangs in tight curls around his head, peculiar tufts of hair that run down the sides of his face, short golden fuzz coating his chin and neck. Curls of hair on his legs, arms, below his navel, hair that's thicker where it's cropped around his bulge.
So different from trolls, and worse, so frustratingly appealing.
Strider doesn't have much in the way of clothing—he wears pathetic rags that are worn and thin, continually refusing Karkat's attempts to bring him a more complete outfit. More often than not he's insisted on lying around bare, no matter how many times Karkat orders him to cover up while desperately ignoring the hot flush under his skin.
Strider sits up further, putting his back against the bars. "Would you though? I'm only asking because I had a dream about you and woke up with this wicked boner. I'm guessing you want to hear about it, right, so basically we had some insane sex. I’m talking like you tore my ass open like a PlayStation on Christmas morning sex. Anyway I woke up before I could get down that last chimney and back to the North Pole if you know what I'm saying, so if you don’t mind I’m just gonna finish the job here. It's only fair.”
At first whatever nonsense Dave is saying doesn't register, Karkat's mind stuck like a broken record on the Strider dreamt of them having sex part, until he hears a breathy grunt and his mouth drops open. No. No. Against his better judgement, Karkat lowers his book to see Dave half sitting, half leaning against the bars with his body laid out on the stone, his clothes pushed aside, thin fingers curled around his stiff bulge and lazily stroking. A bolt of heat strikes Karkat like the snap of a rubber band.
"What kind of depraved animal are you," Karkat hisses before dragging his eyes away. The afterimage burns through him like embers of a fire.
"Right now? A horny one," Dave answers, and his usual low and detached tone is punctuated with breathy sounds that make Karkat’s bulge shift in its sheath. This can’t be happening.
"I have a confession. That's actually not the only dream I've had about you, you know. There were others. You coming in here and claiming my sweet body, taking me on the floor like an animal, or up against the bars with your hand around my throat, fuck ."
The soft slapping sounds become more rhythmic, impossible to ignore. And he's seen enough of Dave at this point that there's nothing left to his imagination and Dave knows it. He’s probably counting on it. Karkat's blood is boiling, embarrassment, rage, arousal, it's everything.
Everything that Strider could ever pull out of him, he would.
Karkat turns around to look Dave in the eyes again and immediately regrets it when a cloud of lust hits him. Dave is standing now, facing Karkat and leaning with one arm against the bars. Karkat stubbornly forces his eyes to stay on Dave’s half lidded ones, ignoring the movement below his waist, the tiny pleasured sighs Dave is making.
“Stop that,” Karkat orders, knowing full well that he won’t and also knowing full well that he doesn’t have to give Strider the attention he wants. That he could just stand up and walk away. But he won’t.
"Can't stop now, chief," Dave drawls. "You'll have gag me. Tie me up like the good old days."
"Fine." Karkat vaults to his feet, striding over to the door so he can unlock it. Fucking why did he have to get the one human that could affect him like this? Or maybe it would have happened with anyone because he's a useless mutant troll who can't even keep it together enough to guard one fucking prisoner. He hates himself. But more than that right now, he hates Dave.
Dave's eyes are wide and Karkat doesn't pause, grabbing him by the throat and pushing him back until his body slams against the bars. Dave just smiles, crooked and demented looking.
"Is this what you fucking wanted?" Karkat growls in his face, tightening his grip on Dave's throat enough that he's struggling to breathe, lifting him by the neck so that his feet are dangling above the ground.
"Fuck… you," Dave manages to gasp out, and spits in Karkat's face. Karkat hisses and lets go of Dave's neck, letting him fall to the floor.
The restraint hooks are still attached to the bars of the cell where they'd been forgotten until now; Karkat hasn't tied Dave up like this since the very first days when he wouldn't stop trying to destroy the cell.
He loops around each of Dave's wrists with rope, pulling him up by his arms so he can tie them together above his head and attach them to the hooks. Karkat takes a savage joy in making sure his claws scratch Dave's skin, leaving tiny pink lines behind with every adjustment of the rope.
Karkat pins Dave to the bars with his body so his hands are free to manipulate the rope, he ignores the way he can feel Strider’s bulge, still stiff and pressing against him as he ties a final knot to bind his wrists, and he definitely ignores the way his own bulge is trying to push out of his uniform to meet it.
Dave is just chuckling low in his throat, resisting every pull of his limbs but ultimately forced to succumb to Karkat's strength over him. That doesn't stop him from constantly spewing bullshit, tongue flicking between his lips and eyes flashing with defiance.
"You like hurting me, don't you Vantas? I know you do. Wait, what do trolls call it, black romance? Do you hate me that much? Do you wanna mark me while you fuck me, you wanna choke me on your bulge? Fucking do it!” He’s thrashing harder against the hold, his voice rising until he’s nearly screaming. "I dare you!”
It's not like his noise level matters. After all, there's no one around for miles. But Karkat's never heard him vocalize anything so loud and it shakes him to his core. He has a thought, before he can stop himself that he wants to hear Dave scream louder. Wants to make him scream.
Dave is silent, breathing hard after his outburst, seemingly waiting for a response. Karkat won't stoop to Dave's level. He can’t. Karkat grits his teeth, silently dropping down to tie Dave's ankles to the bars as fast as he can.
"That's what I thought," Strider says quietly when Karkat turns and steps away.
Ignore him.
"You've probably never even had sex before."
Seriously. Just ignore him.
"Who would want you, you're just some throwaway, a reject. Just like me."
No. Fuck this, fuck him. Karkat spins around, seething.
"Fuck you, you insolent shit. We are nothing alike! You're a failure, your entire race is a smear on this world, you're inferior, weak. Just look at the way your cute little rebellion was snuffed out between Her fingers! If anyone is a reject and a fucking failure, it's you."
He can feel himself blurring around the edges, hatred for Strider clouding his judgement. Karkat turns around again without waiting for an answer, determined to get Strider out of sight before he loses control.
"Yeah right," Dave says just as Karkat is passing the threshold. "You think I don't know what they think of you out there? What your precious Empress thinks? You're trash, you're just as hated by this place, by Her ; you're just as much of a prisoner as I am here and you know it."
The fury makes Karkat silent. He's nearly shaking as he marches back up to Dave, bends over and slices the rope holding his feet to the bars clean off with his claws. When he straightens, he finds a sick pleasure in the way Dave's face is twisted in discomfort now that his upper half is being forced to support his hanging weight.
"Don't you dare," he snarls, pressing in on Dave's body once more. "You're filth. You're a pathetic excuse for a being. And I wouldn't fuck you if it was my job."
"Yeah right," Dave says and that infuriating half smile is back on his face, and Karkat realizes that this is what he wanted. The fact that Dave had just manipulated him so easily makes the blood run even hotter under Karkat's skin.
"You think you know what you want?" His hand is back at Dave's neck again, claws digging in without mercy. Karkat feels Dave hard against his middle again, and his bulge pulses in his pants.
Dave is silent as they stare at each other, his red eyes bright and challenging.
"Fine," Karkat says. He steps back and runs his claws down the little clothing that Dave has on, making sure to dig a little deeper than necessary, until Dave winces and the torn scraps of fabric fall apart, exposing his body.
It just makes Karkat angrier that he looks good like this, bangs falling across his face, body pulled taut by the rope above his head, his bulge pressing up against his stomach. And that smirk, even as he's laid bare and at Karkat's mercy. It makes Karkat want to do filthy things to him. Karkat wants to break him.
Dave is tense again, the muscles in his arms straining as he fights to support himself against the cell. Lines of red drip down and pool just below his neck, into the hollow made by the bones protruding there.
Karkat leans back into Dave's space, pushing him against the bars. His bulge is absolutely writhing now, but it's not time yet.
He drags one claw down Dave's chest, until it's playing lightly over the tip of his bulge. Karkat smiles as he watches Dave work not to react to his touch.
"Is this what you wanted then?" he rumbles against Dave's ear, and then he's feeling teeth snapping against his own neck as Dave launches forward and bites him, hard.
There’s no way Striders's pathetic human teeth can puncture Karkat's skin, but it stings all the same. Karkat moves his fingers down, curling them around Strider's bulge and tightening his grip. "Well," Karkat asks, twisting harshly, and Dave gasps, his body arching away from the bars.
"Just fuck me. I know you want to." Dave says, lifting his head to look smugly into Karkat's eyes.
Karkat wraps a hand around Dave's neck, forcing it up and feeling him swallow against his hand. "Shut the fuck up. In case you haven't noticed, you're not exactly in a position to make demands here." As he speaks slowly, Karkat puts a knee between Dave's legs, spreading them while he unbuttons his pants enough to free his bulge, already slick and curling onto itself, desperate to bury itself somewhere warm and tight.
Strider's eyes go wide when Karkat pins him to the bars again, his bulge slipping between his legs. Karkat grabs his ass with one hand to spread him wide, and when he pushes in he doesn't bother to work Dave up or go slow. Strider doesn't deserve that. He deserves to be claimed. Ruined.
Dave never wanted to be captured. Who does, right? Still, everyone who was part of the rebellion knew it was inevitable, and they'd battled on. Because what else were they supposed to do when their only home as being forcibly taken over by some overblown alien tools, the entire human race turned into nothing but slaves and laborers? They fought. Dave fought until he was dragged out of the ring kicking and screaming, and then he kept fighting until they locked him in a room with the surliest looking troll he'd ever seen, presumably for the rest of his god given life.
Dave hates Karkat. His captor. Karkat Vantas, who's clearly just as despised by the Empire as Dave was, but still chooses to follow her orders and be a good little disposable soldier. It's not like there aren't trolls who'd joined the revolution, who'd recognized that tyranny is some bottom line rank bullshit no matter who's in charge. So every day, every time Vantas sneers at him, Dave goes a little more crazy. Thinks about all the things he'd do to Vantas if he could. Except. Not all of his fantasies grew to be what he expected.
Vantas is exactly Dave's type. In the six months that they've been together, Dave has caught himself staring at the guard more times than he's had an excuse to, not that he ever has anything more interesting to do. Vantas is tall, with dark uniform wrapped around a sinful collection of wide muscles. He's top heavy, in a way that makes Dave want to be crushed between his arms.
Vantas lives in a room adjacent to Dave's holding block, where he sleeps, eats and showers. Dave can hear him at night sometimes, mumbling in his sleep, or shifting in unrest. He wonders what it would be like if their positions were swapped sometimes, or even if he could get into bed with Vantas.
Dave misses being touched. He can't stop himself from imagining Karkat's hands on him, even if they're pulling, dragging, scratching. And so he pushes. He lays around in his cell naked, makes rude comments, insults him, comes on to him, anything.
He's never gone further than that, though. Until today. It had taken far less than Dave thought to get Vantas visibly hot and bothered, fangs bared in a way that makes Dave shiver.
Maybe it's just that Dave's finally snapped, but there's just something about him. Was this some kind of horny Stockholm Syndrome bullshit, or is he just seeking punishment the only way he knows how?
"Don't pretend you haven't wanted this," Dave pants, voice strained as Karkat presses his bulge in deeper, until he's fully inside of Dave, blood hot and slick, pulsing a frantic beat. God, it feels amazing. The body against his, the way Vantas’ uniform scratches at his abs. "All your friends sure did. I've seen the way you look at me over there."
Dave’s full of it, but it works. Karkat squeezes around Dave's neck, drags his claws down his chest. The intermingling feelings of pain and pleasure lights up Dave's insides. "You're delusional," Vantas says, but there's an edge of defensiveness in his voice.
Huh. Maybe he has been staring. Maybe Vantas has wanted this far more than he’s ever let on.
Dave lunges forward again, but this time he's biting Karkat's bottom lip between his teeth with a grin and pressing their lips together. Karkat pushes back into the kiss with a bruising ferocity. There's the metal tang of blood in Dave’s mouth and he's not sure if it from him or Vantas.
Dave pulls his head back, panting roughly. He's completely lost in the stretch of Karkat's bulge curling inside him, his logical mind trying to figure out what he's doing and his animal brain not giving a god motherfucking damn.
"I've seen what happens when some highblood gets their hands on a human, what they tried to do to me. What would you do if you were one of them? You'd probably make me your bulge slut huh? You'd slip into my room late at night while I was sleeping and fuck me right? You'd take my ass anytime you wanted, like you are now. Like I was yours."
Karkat doesn't answer, just grunts and moves his hips, pulling out and thrusting himself back into Dave, making him jolt and curse. Sweat rolls down Dave's back, and he can feel it sticking to his forehead. Karkat shoots forward, kissing him in a way that feels eager and possessive. Dave strains against the soreness in his shoulders to lean into him.
"How does it feel, huh? I bet— fuuuck." Dave cuts himself off with a moan when Karkat bares his fangs and thrashes his bulge against Dave's prostate, making his words falter. "Fuck, fuuuck."
He's always been quick to fall apart and it's no different now—if anything Dave is more sensitive—and he's eager to lose himself in the feeling, happy to literally let himself be fucked out of his mind, the prison he's been trapped in for six months. He doesn't care what it means or what the consequences will be. Dave just wants to be a brainless vessel, used on his terms.
Karkat doesn't let up until Dave is jerking against the bars, high pitched whines spilling from his mouth and his cock jerking between their bodies as he comes all over the front Karkat's uniform.
Fuck. Dave immediately goes limp, straining his shoulders further against his binds, but Karkat presses him up against the bars, the bulge pulsing inside him quickly driving Dave into teary-eyed over stimulation.
Dave looks into Karkat's eyes and for a second they look soft enough that Dave can pretend there's someone alive who cares about him, that they could even be lovers in another life, and then he's coming again, every part of him shaking apart, mouth cranked open into a silent scream.
Karkat follows him into his own release, digging his claws painfully into the front of Dave chest and gasping raggedly as suddenly everything below Dave's crotch is soaked in reddish-pink alien spunk.
"Jesus Christ," Dave groans, going slack in the hold, against Karkat's body. Aftershocks rock him and as he slowly recaptures his breath he wonders if he got what he wanted.
When Karkat cuts away the ropes holding Dave's wrists, he immediately slumps to the floor. He's blinking slowly at Karkat, looking wrecked beyond belief. I did that, Karkat thinks, as he chains one of Strider's ankles to the cell. He usually only does this at night, but Karkat can't bear to be in here any longer. He'll have to clean the cell, and Strider, off tomorrow. He's been procrastinating on doing it this week anyway.
"Thanks. Fuck you," Dave says quietly when Karkat steps away, closing his eyes and rolling over onto his side.
Karkat doesn't answer. He turns around, mind forcefully blank, and retreats to his block. He immediately heads for the ablution trap to rinse off, and once he's clean Karkat gets into his bed, looking around at the pitiful space he calls home. The truth of Dave's words earlier rings in his ears.
You're just as much of a prisoner as I am here and you know it.
Thoughts of Dave bring up feelings Karkat's been trying to ignore, gentle realizations that have been nudging up against the side of his pan like gently lapping waves ever since he'd had Strider shaking in his arms, looking up at him through red eyes blown wide and softer than he'd ever imagined.
Karkat thought he wanted to see Dave scream and thrash. But when he closes his eyes to relive what happened earlier, when he's stroking his bulge to the rhythm of his own soft gasps, the only thing he can think about is how vulnerable, how pitiable Dave had looked.
Shit. He is so fucked.