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Vacation Well-Spent

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John gets home somewhere around seven, puts the green beans, mushrooms, and chicken breast that he bought on the way home on the kitchen counter, and turns around to find Karkat looming in the doorway.

“You’re home!” John grins at him.

“Of course I’m fucking home; I took today off work.” Karkat stalks over to the counter, stares at the raw chicken. Goes to the fridge and opens the door, then the meat compartment. Stares down into its emptiness. Closes it. Closes the door. Turns around. Picks up the raw chicken package and moves to walk out of the kitchen with it.

“What are you…?”

“I’m hungry. Figure something out.” John blinks after him. The bedroom/respiteblock door slams.

“...oooookay then.” John pulls some stir-fry tofu out of the fridge and cooks dinner. Karkat usually rouses from whatever he’s doing – usually paperwork – at the smell of food, but this time he stays in their bedroom. John finishes eating, puts some of the stir fry on a plate for Karkat, and knocks on the door, but when Karkat opens it he snarls, “Put that away; it’s perpetrating atrocities on my olfactory passages. And then get the fuck in here.”

John putters back to the kitchen, a bit worried. Did Karkat just eat the chicken breast raw? That’s unusual. Well. A little.

He knows that trolls can eat raw meat; Karkat occasionally buys stew beef to eat as a snack, and there’s the probably-apocryphal story Karkat told him about a troll police officer who brought a slab of raw pork into an interrogation room, explained that she’d had to skip dinner, and proceeded to cut it up into tiny pieces and eat it in front of the perp, who confessed in terror. Except that Karkat is usually pretty polite about letting John cook it first. So this is a little weird.

He knocks on the door. “Are you okay?”

Karkat opens the door, grabs John’s shirt, drags him into the bedroom/respiteblock, and slams the door. Turns around.

Karkat’s drawn the shades over the windows, and it’s so dark that John can hardly see. The room smells funny, too, maybe like blood, but not quite.

“Are you okay?” John repeats, getting a little worried.

“Shut up,” Karkat says, and stalks forward. John takes a few steps back, until his thighs hit the bed, and then he sits down. Karkat looms over him and starts to loosen John’s tie.

“Oh! You just want sex!” John says, and pretty much feels Karkat roll his eyes as the tie comes off. John starts to undo the buttons of his own shirt.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“I don’t know. Normally you don’t hide in the dark to eat, though.” He drops his shirt off the edge of the bed, then follows that up with his undershirt.

“Can fucking eat where I want.” Karkat pulls his t-shirt over his head and drops it behind himself, then goes for the fly on his pants. Shucks them off. And, okay, wow, that’s – new. Not the bone bulge. The fact that it’s already out, pink-flushed under the grey of his skin. Usually it takes a lot of other stuff to make it unsheathe, like kissing and – John reaches out to touch it, and Karkat hisses.

“It’s almost your stupid redgreen holiday,” Karkat says, “let me give you a present. Get naked.”

John stands up, which presses him right up close against Karkat, and finishes taking his clothes off. He’s not fully hard yet, which Karkat seems sort of intensely focused on, because instead of doing the obvious thing and taking hold of both of them he just starts in on John, which is a little uncomfortable and kind of going too fast.

“Hang on a second,” John says, working Karkat’s hand away, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but”

You sure as hell haven’t,” Karkat snarls, and John chuckles, which he realizes was the wrong thing to do when Karkat pushes him over onto the bed and crawls on top of him and bares his teeth in John’s face.

“I’m not in the mood to be nice,” Karkat says, very lowly, which John had sort of picked up on, so he just drapes his arms over Karkat’s shoulders and pulls him down for a very slow kiss that has Karkat growling in frustration, but not turning away.

John’s the one who breaks it. He grins up at Karkat.

“Hi there!” he says.

Karkat rolls his eyes, rears back to kneel over John’s hips. Reaches down, past his bulge, and takes hold of John, shifts a little and then. Onto him.

John realizes, after a moment, that the squeaking noise was him.

“No condom?” he manages. Karkat’s gloriously slick inside, smooth and sweet, and the rarity of it – Karkat’s generally more bulge-focused but John’s not going to argue – makes it seem a little off, like maybe John fell asleep at his desk and is just dreaming.

“Don’t feel like it.” Karkat picks up, grinds down onto him again, and John reaches for his hips, moves to take Karkat’s bulge but Karkat catches his hand before he can get there, presses it into the bed, rocks his hips again. This is getting a little surreal.

He’s starting to wonder if maybe he should call Kanaya, except that Karkat snarls and grabs John’s hand and shoves it up against his belly and says, “Fucking god damn it,” which is a little more normal, so John takes him in hand, and Karkat’s breathing hitches.

Karkat’s very warm in his hand, the sheath of his bulge soft-skinned, and John holds Karkat’s hip for a moment, makes him slow his movements so that John can pull out, dip his fingers into the wetness of Karkat’s nook. He smears it over the tip of Karkat’s bulge, and it really isn’t enough, but Karkat is back around him before he can try for more.

“Are you okay? Because I mean I’m enjoying this but you’re acting weird and I’m getting worried.”

“I’m fine,” Karkat snaps. “Fewer questions. More fucking.” He leans forward, bracing himself on the mattress, and pushes himself down on John, and it’s – John picks his knees up, bracing his feet on the mattress, and Karkat sinks back onto him and it’s amazing, Karkat whimpering and pushing back until John’s deep inside him, surrounded by warmth and wetness.

Karkat speeds up a lot after that, John making his hand moves faster on Karkat even though he himself doesn’t feel that close, and Karkat’s nook clenches around him in waves as he comes, spilling red over John’s belly.

He realizes, when Karkat is still tight around him after ten seconds, that Karkat is hissing, “Come already, just – I need it, come on, fuck, do it, inside me,” and that’s really –

He didn’t think he was that close.

When he comes back to himself, Karkat is bent over him, breathing hard, sticky-sweaty all over, and when John pulls out he feels the muscles of Karkat’s nook shut tight behind him, closing off in order to collect -

“Is your body trying to combine our genetic material?” John says.

“Yes. Shut up; I’m enjoying it.” Karkat doesn’t move.

“Okay.” He lets his hands wander. Karkat is still breathing hard, chest heaving, and the muscles of his arms stand out from how he’s holding his weight. “Do you want to lie down?”

Karkat grunts and spills out on the bed next to John, who lets his legs flop back down, flings an arm over Karkat’s chest, and closes his eyes.


He wakes up to Karkat humping his leg from the side and looks at the clock. Midnight. His mouth is dry and tastes bad.

“Hold on a second, okay?” he says, and goes to the bathroom and brushes his teeth. The light hurts his eyes at first, but it’s not so bad; what’s worse is seeing himself. Hair flat in back, sticking up in front, faint bruises on his hipbones from Karkat’s weight. Pinkish smears on his stomach and thighs.

He spits toothpaste into the sink, rinses out his mouth, and goes back to bed, where Karkat is leisurely jerking himself off, stretched out on his back on the sheets with his eyes closed.

“You look like you’re trying to leave me out,” John says, but he smiles.

Karkat bares his teeth. “Fuck no.” He rolls onto his side to face John, kisses him, insinuates a leg between his, and starts rutting up against him.


The third time, John wakes up at eight to Karkat kissing his way down John’s chest, between his legs.

By mutual agreement, Karkat wears a condom for this round, and John spends enough time with his legs hooked over Karkat’s shoulders that his foot falls asleep. Karkat has to bring him breakfast in bed.

(Karkat defrosts some hamburger meat that had been in the freezer; John makes him sauté it before he lets him bring it into bed.)


At eleven-thirty, Karkat starts trying to slick John up again, and that’s when John puts his foot down.



“I’m too sore.”

“You won’t even notice once I’m in. Or you will and you’ll like it.”

“How about we wait a little while?”

Karkat pulls his hand away.

“What’s wrong with you?” John says. “You’ve never...”

“I’m horny.”

John giggles. “You’re always horny! You’re a troll!”

Karkat growls and slams an arm out onto the nightstand for his cell phone.

“What are you doing?”

Calling Kanaya.”


After he hangs up, he says to Karkat, a little shocked, “You’re in heat?”

“Yeah. Now let’s make jokes about how incredibly goddamn funny it is to withhold sex from me, oh hardy har har Karkat is going to have an essentially perpetually unsheathed bulge for the next forty-eight hours and he’s going to be panting for whatever sex he can get. Roll on the floor laughing.”

John lays his hand on Karkat’s jaw, cradling his head in one palm. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Didn’t Kanaya explain everything in ways your stunted thinkpan could understand?”

“Yeah, but. You never said anything before.”

“We weren’t living together before.”

“I guess we weren’t.” John smiles over at him.

Karkat pulls his head away from John’s hand. “Now if you could just get the fuck out so I can get on with getting it out of my system that’d be great.”

John grins. “I can’t even watch?”

Karkat blinks, open-mouthed.

“Please?” John asks, not even trying to look innocent.

“Oh god yes,” Karkat groans, and rolls closer, his hand already sliding down his stomach as John reaches out to hold him close.