One of the first ways Sollux can tell a mood shift is coming on is that his sex drive shows up again, a little nagging urge in the back of his head and then an increasing distraction, taking up more and more of the processor cycles in his brain until he lets Trollian go idle, ignoring whatever Karkat had to say about their relative hacking skills and bulge sizes tonight—okay, no, not totally ignoring that, just...tuning out the parts that aren't hot. He leans back in his chair and unzips, easing his bisected shaft free as the halves start to swell.
Karkat's ranting is always kind of over the top, which might be one of the reasons Sollux gets along with him, if that's what you call this. Karkat can match him at either end of his scale, balancing both highs and lows with this kind of frothing, incoherent fury that's...kind of attractive, in the right light. All that energy. All that drive.
Sollux wraps one hand around each half of his bulge, letting his mind wander. He'd bet Karkat has enough need built up, enough frustration, to give it to him both ways—to cram his thick bulge down Sollux's throat and ride his face until he's swallowing a bucketload, then flip him around and nail him again, stuffing his nook good and hard.
No, hang on, why bother to be limited by real possibility? Two of Karkat, sharing him, spit-roasting him between them. Fuck, Karkat would be terrible at sharing, even with himself. Maybe especially with himself. Sollux's hands move in rhythm, pistoning. Karkat would be rough, competitive with his own other self, each of them trying to screw him harder, do it better, come harder—but neither one of them could get the upper hand, because they'd both be Karkat, with the same strengths and the same weaknesses.
And Sollux would be right there in the middle of that, the intersection point where the two vectors of Karkat's drive plow into each other, into him. Taking every ridge of Karkat's bulge, twice, taking them both ways at once. He strokes the ridges of his own, hands rough against the sensitive spots, and he wonders what Karkat's looks like: does it have the thick, heavy crown of a lowblood? the tiny, vestigial fin structures of a seadweller? or—fuck, what if Karkat's is like his, doubled, a pair of matched shafts. Sollux imagines that, Karkat double-stuffing him at both ends, perfect pairs, racing each other to be the first and both going off at once, genetic material all over him and inside him, and fuck, all it takes is two more hard strokes before he's arching his back and hissing and going off in tandem himself, a hot burst of pleasure tripping along his nerves.
He should have stripped off first, because now he's a mess, but whatever. It felt good and he wanted to. Trollian is blinking at him insistently, messages waiting for his attention. His hands are a sticky disaster, but that's what psionics are for, right? Sollux concentrates on his keypad, clicking back to the window and scrolling down to get Karkat's most recent messages.
CG: ARE YOU STILL THERE?
CG: NO, HUH?
CG: FACE DOWN IN A PUDDLE OF HONEY AND YOUR OWN DROOL?
TA: o hey kk
TA: 2orry to 2pace out on you liike that
TA: that la2t ragega2m of your2 wa2 2o 2exy ii had two 2tep away from the computer
TA 2o ii could ma2turbate frantiically two the iimage of your iincande2cent fury
CG: YOU COULD JUST SAY YOU WERE IGNORING ME
CG: YOU GRUBFUCKING NOOKSTAIN
CG: I DON'T KNOW WHY I PUT UP WITH YOUR HOOFBEAST SHIT
TA: ju2t liike that, bb
TA: dont 2top
--- carcinoGeneticist [CG] has blocked twinArmageddons [TA] ---
Sollux grins at the screen. Just like that. He gets up out of his chair, holding onto the hem of his shirt gingerly. He'll go duck into the ablution trap, clean this up, and probably by the time he gets back Karkat will have found something else to focus his endless bile on, and he'll have unblocked Sollux again. And then they can really have a fight about hacking skills and bulge size.