There are a lot of times that Dave Strider sits back and thinks to himself that having an alien girlfriend is pretty much the best fucking thing ever. All the times they spend drawing idiotic comics to each other, for instance, or the times when they hold hands under the table and sort of slap playfully at each other until Karkat loses patience with Terezi’s giggling and tells them to stop fucking around. The hours they spend among the other trolls and humans, weirding them all out with their interspecies makeouts appeal to Dave’s desire to make others uncomfortable and are ridiculously fun. The moments spent alone, slipping into the territory of serious making out are fun too, in a slightly different way, and the fact that Terezi seems to have no qualms about letting Dave touch her tits, nipple-less though they are, is a beautiful, magnificent thing.
She doesn’t understand that fascination, she says. They don’t do anything. They don’t feel like much. They’re just fat deposits, and are kind of annoying to get into her support garments and under her shirt.
Dave hushes her when she says things like this, whispers that she’s a terrible blasphemer, teases her into fake swooning and giggling and falling all over herself with how cool he is.
They’ve got a good thing going.
However there are times that Dave slumps backward in his computer chair, stares up at the ceiling through his shades and thinks that alien girlfriends are the biggest fucking pain in the ass. Or maybe it’s just girlfriends in general that are a pain in the ass. This is usually after Terezi has teased him back too badly, broken something of his accidentally by being too curious and too damned blind to handle really fragile shit without some supervision, or just when he’s frustrated with the fact that while Terezi will let him palm her tits till the udder beasts, cows, whatever, come home, she won’t let him go any lower.
When they make out, Dave encourages Terezi to let her hands wander, enjoying the way her fingers trail through his hair, down his back, always sort of hoping that they’ll spontaneously end up on his dick. And he can play with her hair too, touch her horns a little even, if she’s feeling frisky, but the moment his hands slip from her breasts, inch lower, she pulls away and pouts, so stern he actually feels shame for like, a half a second.
They’ve been doing this for months and even though he’s pretty sure most couples take the same sort of time getting around to doing the deed, he can’t help but get a little antsy about the matter. He catches himself watching her constantly, not just from behind, ninja-like in his ass gazing, the way Bro would be proud of him for pulling off, but while they sit together doing perfectly normal, everyday shit. His gaze wanders down to her hips, a little lower till he’s eyeing the crotch of her pants, his heart rate picking up until she passes the hilariously bad children’s book they’re reading back to him, pages slightly spit-dampened, and breaks his concentration.
It might not be so bad if it was just just about getting in her pants. And really, he’s so up for it he’d give his left nut just to slip a hand into her panties, but it’s really not all about sex. He kind of can’t believe that he’s admitting that to himself, feels like he should immediately fail as a teenage boy for it, but when he looks at Terezi’s stomach, slightly soft and rounded in a ridiculously adorable way by what might be an extra few pounds, all he wants to do is run his fingers slowly, smoothly over the skin, pet her, soothe her to sleep.
It’s kind of disgusting.
But he’s not allowed to touch her stomach for some weird made up reason (he figures she’s just making up the rules, since there’s no official guide book here,) and even taking her shirt off for better access to the parts he’s allowed to touch is off the table, absolutely forbidden. For now, she says, and smirks a little, like she’s trying to be all cute and coy but honestly, if she doesn’t let him at her skin soon he’s going to pin her down and kiss her stomach by force, like the pathetic fucking lovestruck asshole he is.
He could gag himself with how deep in this shit he is.
But it’s worth it. He promises himself that every day, because every hour of this new world, multicultural, seriously messed up life is building toward that moment when he and Terezi finally share in a sweet, sweet bout of freaky interspecies sex and it will be awesome. It will be magnificent. Angels will weep and birds will sing and there will be a shower of the most amazing stars, all fitted with sick little shades, and Dave won’t even care to go out and stare up at them like every other fucktard on the planet because he’ll be wrapped up in a hot alien chick.
And when the time does finally come, when he really is all wrapped up in Terezi, still at the stage where all the clothes are on and things are only a little heated but seem to be moving just a little further than usual, getting a little more desperate than he’s used to, Dave is so, so happy he waited this shit out.
It comes after hours of hang out time, most of which was spent listening to some sappy old radio play that had sort of mysteriously popped up in a chest somewhere. Terezi doodled idly on the floor of her room in chalk, looked sightlessly to Dave whenever the couple in the play shared a passionate kiss or a tearful goodbye, snickered when he mocked them. They curled up on her couch together (cushioned interrogation area his ass, it was a goddamn sofa) and she made faces at him while he rolled his eyes, told her to stop like, ten times before he finally gave up and just kissed her, which was all she really wanted in the first place. They sprawled on the couch snogging for a good fifteen minutes, pressing closer, breathing harder, setting Terezi’s shades aside haphazardly, and when Dave’s right hand drifted up to trace the base of one of her horns she made a strained, needy noise that went straight to his groin.
“Dave,” She said, blunt as ever, sounding very serious, “This is getting a little…”
But she never finished the thought, and now here she is, trailing off and rising into another quiet, near-moan as Dave strokes the base of her horn, presses himself a little closer to her, mentally reassuring himself that it’s okay if she notices that he’s hard, that this is totally normal and natural and she ought to know how bad he wants her. It’s not right for a girl to walk around under the mistaken impression that cool guys are totally resistant to sexy wiles and stuff like that. Even cool guys have their weaknesses, they just don’t like to talk about them.
He rolls his hips just the slightest bit, pauses when her eyes widen, the realization apparent as her cheeks tinge bluish green (what do they call that, teal? Turquoise? Fuck if he knows colors.) She wets her lips, squirms a little.
”You alright?” He asks, a proper gentleman kind of.
She nods, smiles toothily, pushes a hand against his chest to make him get off and he’s ready to curse until she keeps pushing, makes him sit while she climbs into his lap and then it’s totally okay again, the most okay thing to ever happen.
She rocks her hips forward over the tented fabric of his jeans, reaches up to hold his face carefully as she kisses him once, gently, “Are you alright, coolkid?”
They share a smirky, stupid smile and he places his hands tentatively on her hips, fingers light like he’s fucking Indiana Jones and the girl is made of rare ancient artifacts, like a boulder’s going to bust through the wall and into his face if he moves her even an inch. She tenses a little under his hands, relaxes, mutters against his mouth, “Dave, are you sure?”
Emboldened, he traces his fingers around her sides, teasing up near her tummy.
She stiffens and he stops, lets his hands rest against her waist, so insanely pleased at being able to feel it, “Sure as fuck.”
She shivers, and with a start Dave realizes his dick is pressing into her thigh, that her groin is sort of poised against his stomach and she’s wet, he’s making her wet and that is so phenomenal it goes right to his head and he doesn’t even stop to wonder if maybe this is somehow not what he thought it would be like.
”It might be weird,” She says, sort of matter of factly, a little halting but not at all like the whirlwind of passion he wants to turn her into, “Do you really want to?”
He smiles all cocky, presses close to the damp spot at the front of her pants so he can feel it begin to sink into his own shirt, so he can feel her shudder, “Seems like you really want to.”
She giggles, moans gently, and the two sounds blend into something he could never hope to mix on a machine. She arches against him and for a second something feels weird, sharp, unexpected, but he’s never done this before so he’s not totally sure of what to expect. In any case she’s practically sopping wet for him which has Dave feeling as smug as a fucking bug in a smug rug.
They press close as can be and, okay, he seriously did not think girls got this wet, but the front of Terezi’s pants are soaked as she rolls her hips against his, gasping, tipping forward to press her mouth to his throat, kissing, licking, biting gently, since they’ve had several talks about teeth and how much is too much. He asks if he can take her shirt off and after a short series of nips and licks and soft, pleased noises over the taste of him, she agrees.
They’re doing this, they’re on a roll. Dave is hard as hell against her, she’s a delicious little mess of slick, wet heat that he’s just dying to unwrap, and he gladly slides his hands up under her shirt, feeling her sides, pushing the black fabric up so it bunches over her boobs, so ready for inches of never before seen soft, grey skin-
He backs off faster than if someone had dropped a snake between them, eyes wide behind his shades, panic clawing at his throat. Terezi jumps back too, startled by his cry, and she stares blankly, unseeing, as he gapes at her midsection.
There’s a gash down her middle. Like she’s been cut open, some kind of awful, alien surgery gone wrong, a slightly twisting line of raised skin and a sliver of teal that starts papercut thin just under the front closure of her bra, goes all the way down to disappear into her pants, widening gradually till it looks like he could fit two fingers in, right below where her belly button would be if she had one and the whole damn thing is flushing teal, oozing in places-
”You’re bleeding,” He gasps, too shocked to even try and pretend like this is a totally chill thing that he can handle, “Shit, Terezi you’re bleeding everywhere, fuck, what happened, did I hurt you? How would I even-” He finally tears his eyes away from the sight and looks up to try and read her expression. She looks completely dumbfounded, but thankfully not in pain.
”…I’m bleeding?” She frowns, mouth twisting into that cute little sideways shape that would ordinarily make Dave honest to god sincerely smile, but right now he can’t be anything but freaked out. Terezi drops a hand down to the cut open area, passes it just barely over the gash, brow furrowing, “Dave I’m not….oh. Dave, that’s not blood.”
He looks down again, prepared to tell her that she must be missing something, that there is a vivid teal slash down her soft, adorable little stomach, and that all this watered down teal shit is slicked over her skin, soaking her clothes and oh shit, it stained his shirt where they touched, oh god he can’t even calm down right now.
But then, to his horror, the teal gash seems to stitch shut. Terezi’s stomach becomes a whole again, leaving only smears of teal and a long, thin scar in place of that terrifying wound.
With all that blood and freaky shit out of sight, Dave can calm down a little, but not as much as he’d really like to, “What the fuck, man?”
Terezi pouts at him, looking thoroughly disappointed, “I told you that this would be weird and you said you wanted to.” She looks a little hurt and Dave kind of wants to slap himself for putting that look on her face, “Are you going back on your word, Dave?”
Technically he never said he wanted to, just gave her a snarky answer, but he knows what she’s getting at, “…no. Just. The fuck is up with that?”
If anything, Terezi looks angrier, flushed in embarrassment, “Up with what, Dave? I thought you were all sorts of eager to get a look at my genitals.”
He wants to snort at the word, so proper and out of place, but the concept has him mindblown. Genitals? What genitals? All he saw was a seeping cut disappearing down to where Terezi’s genitalia ought to be, a sickening, bloody slice through her chest, “Well I didn’t get your pants off yet so I still haven’t seen them.”
Terezi stares at him hard, not truly looking, but smelling, frowning, “Dave. You are very confused. This is proving to be much more awkward than originally anticipated.”
She sounds sort of huffy and Dave is still kind of concerned about the potentially fatal wound that seems to have crawled right back up into her stomach, doesn’t respond to her huffiness so much as he just leans over to look at the line down her midsection more closely, carefully, “Yeah I guess I must be.”
She sighs, shifts off his lap, climbing back onto the couch and jesus christ she practically left a puddle. She can swear it’s not blood all she likes but it’s still freaking him the fuck out to have all that teal on him. Folding her legs underneath herself, Terezi begins to explain calmly, “All trolls are born with a nook and a bone bulge-“
Dave interrupts her because he’s heard this one already, “Right, I know.” But now he’s not so sure he does know, “I kind of figured, nook,” He reaches out, touches Terezi’s shoulder lightly, grabs her hand and brings it across to his shoulder, tapping her fingers against it, “And bulge. Nooks and bulges, girls and boys, right?”
She just frowns at him, looking all sorts of confused, a little embarrassed, “No, you are definitely one confused human.” She holds up a hand, index finger extended, “Look,” She points back down at her crotch, drawing an invisible line over the length of her body, following a rough approximation of the physical line on her skin, “The nook starts down there, between the thighs, and spans the length of the abdominal cavity.” She pauses midway up the invisible line, traces the actual ridge of skin instead, “The bone bulge runs along either side, like this.”
Slowly, Dave is beginning to accept the idea. The sharp edge he’d felt earlier was Terezi’s bulge (good god his girlfriend has something called a bone bulge what the fuck,) and that gaping wound that had crept open, shuddered closed later, was her nook? “And…it’s supposed to open up like that?”
Terezi tips her head to one side, expression silently stating that Dave sounds like an idiot, but out loud she says, “Yes, of course. The bulge swells when trolls are…aroused, and the nook opens, allowing access to the genetic sacks,” She sounds like she’s reciting it from a text book and he kind of wonders if she is, stares in awe as she gestures along her bulge again, inviting him to look closer, “The clinching hooks unfold for the embrace and, and-” She falters, not so much embarrassed as just overwhelmed, exasperated, “Your species doesn’t do any of that?”
Dave shakes his head, stares down at her midsection intently because she just said something about hooks and shit, when he really studies it he can see the tiny little feelers lining her bulge, overlapping as if locking it closed.
”Well gog,” She says heavily, flustered and irritable, “What do humans do, Dave?”
He looks back up to meet her eyes out of habit, a habit he doesn’t think he’s ever going to lose, “I don’t know. We just…fuck.”
”We just fuck. Penis meets vag, or, other places, whatever, and we fuck.”
Terezi’s brow furrows again, makes her look like she’s setting up to say something that could potentially kill this, and even though he’s still completely weirded out and annoyed at himself for being so uncool through all of this, he doesn’t want to let it go.
“Look,” He says, straightening up and regaining the coolkid factor, “You want to-” He pauses, tries to phrase this in the least perverted way possible because he can’t just ask if she wants to see, that wouldn’t work, “Get a feel for what I’ve got?”
So much for not being perverted, but Terezi doesn’t seem to care. She pouts, nods, clasps her hands over her thighs and waits as he unzips his jeans, wriggles out of too tight pants and boxers.
Maybe this is actually a good thing, he thinks as he tosses the bundle of discarded clothing over the side of the sofa. Terezi can’t see what he looks like and that’s always sort of made him appreciate that she likes him so much, when she can’t even properly judge just how godly he looks. Maybe the same goes for his unfamiliar downstairs equipment. She doesn’t have any expectations about human anatomy, so there’s no way she’ll be disappointed about size, shape, whatever- not that Dave thinks he has to worry about that kind of thing. He’s totally on great terms with his dick, and he wants Terezi to be too.
“Okay, how about, uh…” He takes hold of her hand, hesitates on exactly what to do, “You want me to guide you or something?”
She smiles, ever so slightly, “That would be lovely, Dave. Give this poor blind girl a hand figuring out your apparently freakish human coolbits.”
He scoffs, blushes, then frowns when she sniffs the air, catching the scent of his blood rising close to the skin instantly. He distracts her before she can laugh at him, gently tugging her hand up to rest on his chest, feeling semi-familiar territory. Terezi has had her hands on him like this before, but never too low and he’s never given it much thought but now he can guess why and he feels like an idiot.
“So for trolls, guys and girls have the same junk?”
He lifts his shirt with his free hand, slips hers underneath it. She tenses in anticipation, relaxes as her fingers are pressed to smooth, unbroken skin, nods to herself like she’s confirming a theory.
“We have the same set of genitalia,” She says, and hmms as Dave eases her hand from one side of his stomach to the other, letting her tap her blunted claws over what is mostly flat, a little firmer in places because yeah, he works out, slices the fuck out of things with swords like a badass, whatever, “I take it humans don’t?” She jerks her hand slightly when one finger dips into his belly button, startled, but then she calms down and they continue the exploration.
“Nah. Girls have kind of a…an opening, between their legs,” He drags her fingers over one of his nipples, hears her giggle, murmur something about ‘the bumpy things,’ since she’s at least felt those through his shirt before, on occasion, “And guys have a dick. Cock. Penis. Whatever you want to call it.”
“Why so many names?”
He shrugs, “Dunno. People like words. Anyway,” He pulls her hand away from his nipple, where she’s been poking and prodding and just about to pinch and that’s not cool while he’s trying to explain shit, “No matter what you call it it’s the same thing, does the same stuff.”
And here’s the part where he feels like a total creep and a pervert and a freak because he’s guiding a blind girl's hand down over his pubes, smirking when she scratches her nails through the unfamiliar hair curiously, down lower to brush her palm over his dick. It seems to have lost a little of its earlier enthusiasm after all the freaking out and awkward talks, but the moment Terezi’s hand touches it Dave is hard again, hot flesh pressing into her palm and she shakes his hand off, impatient as she slips her fingers over him, under, along one side of his dick until she reaches the head, presses at it tentatively and he really can’t hold in the gasp that’s been wanting out for the past thirty seconds.
“It’s s-sensitive,” He explains, wincing at his own stutter, “Human parts are sensitive.”
Terezi bends over a little, hovering over his dick and god help him if she so much as puts her tongue out he’ll lose it. She sniffs, frowns in consideration, “When I felt it before I figured it was a hard casing like a bulge.” She holds on a little tighter, almost enough to hurt, loosens her hold when he gets tense, “But it’s more soft. If they’re so sensitive why are all your coolbits outside your body?”
Dave, incredibly relieved that Terezi seems to have figured out how to be gentle, blinks, curls his fingers against the cushion he’s sitting on, “What? No, it’s attached.”
”But it’s not inside you,” Terezi counters, and slips her hand back down his cock, lower, nudging his balls curiously.
Dave swallows hard, internalizes a twitch of his hips so that he shivers, and Terezi cocks her head at the noise, “And you’re supposed to…do what with it?”
Dave wets his lips, tips his head back and grits his teeth a little as he thinks of all the things he’d like for Terezi to do with it, “Ahh, mostly people touch it with their hand. Or mouth,” He can’t help it, it just slipped out. But he recovers quickly, “But. If a guy and a girl are in it for the long haul, or just fucking around like dumbasses I guess, the guy..uh…”
Shit, how do you explain sex? Everything Dave knows he learned from porn and up until now he’s been pretty fucking confident that he could get by with little to no bumbling when he finally got around to sleeping with someone. Now that he’s faced with Terezi’s freakyweird alien body though, all the positions he’s learned, the poorly acted orgasms he’s watched, are pretty much useless. He’s at a loss when it comes to interespecies sex and even explaining human sex to Terezi just makes him feel like he’s doing this wrong, fucking it all up, and he tries to take Terezi’s text book style approach, “The guy puts his penis in the girl’s vagina and they move together till they get off and…that’s about it. When it’s a guy and a girl, I mean.”
He doesn’t bother going into girls with girls and guys with guys and really kinky guys and girls who like it all kinds of weird ways because there’s really no need. He and Terezi are just a cool guy and an alien chick getting ready to fuck for the first time. There’ll be time for weird sex shit later. He hopes.
Dave doesn’t know what ‘hmm’ means, but Terezi’s fingers wrap carefully around his cock and he sighs his appreciation, hips rising slightly of their own accord.
“Is this alright?” She asks, and Dave nods, remembers she can’t see it, clears his throat.
“Yeah. Yeah, totally fine. That’s basically how it’s supposed to be done. Just, a little tighter maybe, and you, uh, you move your hand up and down.”
Terezi makes a soft noise, considering, and follows his instruction and it’s perfect. He moans quietly out of relief, arches into her touch, and barely bats an eyelash when she asks him where his genetic material comes from, “It c-comes out of the penis, and it’s, fuck, I guess it’s stocked up in my balls or something.” He explains, and she pokes at said balls with her other hand, makes another ‘hmm’ noise.
She actually starts stroking his dick, like something out of his fantasies, the stuff he’s been wishing for and jerking off to for weeks, and he gets so caught up in staring at her that he almost forgets that this is supposed to be a mutual thing. But then he moans and her cheeks flush, her bulge flushes, and he puts a hand on her arm to stop her, even though he really, really doesn’t want to.
“How…” He swallows, gathers his thoughts, tries to play it off like he’s totally in control of himself and not desperate to buck up into her hand while her fingers are still poised loosely around his dick, “How do trolls have sex, exactly?”
Terezi smiles almost wistfully, takes her hand off Dave’s cock and a little voice in his head calls ‘noooo,’ but he ignores it and watches her closely.
“Well,” She sits back, legs folded under her and her bulge is raised, nook unclasping and opening at the bottom, starting to seep teal fluid again and Dave is starting to realize why they’re all about the buckets. This couch is going to end up a water bed pretty soon, “Basically we embrace, line up our bulges, and let the clinching hooks thread together and…we move.”
Dave eyes her nook, looks at the gently twitching phalanges lining the outer edges, “So you need two nooks to do the deed.”
She shrugs, “Traditionally.”
“But can you like, get off other ways? Use your hand or something?”
Terezi’s face goes all teal and she jerks her hand quickly up and away from her bulge, “Oh wow, Dave, that is pretty scandalous. Talking about self stimulation in front of a lady is tasteless!” But she grins, slow and sneaky, and Dave half-laughs softly.
“Okay,” He says thoughtfully, dragging the word out a little as he leans forward, resting a hand on Terezi’s thigh, the other held an inch or so away from her midsection, “But what if it’s my hand we’re talking about?”
Terezi bites at her lower lip with sharp little fangs, reigning in a giggle, “Dave, you wouldn’t!”
But he would and he does, reaching forward to trace the tips of his fingers along the still-locked portion of her bulge, dragging downward and hearing her gasp until he reaches the area where the tiny hooks on her skin have unlatched and opened her up, a space that’s opening a little wider as he dips a finger down, carefully brushing the pointy little feelers.
They’re softer than he expected, sort of flexible.
Everything inside is wet, warm, slightly sticky. It’s a little like plunging his hand into some kind of syrupy cocoon, but thinking of it in those terms is seriously creepy and Dave prefers to focus his thoughts on the soft sounds Terezi makes as her nook opens under his touch. He presses his hand inside of her, feels around, careful careful, pushes to see how far back the opening goes. When he rests the tips of his fingers against the furthest lining of her nook he’s nearly wrist deep in teal and both unnerved and amazed to feel her lungs fill and shift on either side of his hand. There’s a slight pulsing just under his fingers and he’s waiting for a lightning bolt to strike him down for being such a sap, feeling for his girlfriend’s heartbeat, but it’s an honest mistake of an action and really sort of terrifying.
“Shit, man…” He says, for lack of anything better to say, and Terezi giggles at him, almost nervous. He purses his lips, concentrating, thinking maybe he can figure this out on his own, but finally gives up with as much grace and composure as possible and asks for help, “So where am I supposed to touch?”
Terezi sits up a little straighter, points with both hands to the sides of her nook, gesturing at what lies under the skin, “Stimulating the genetic sacks is pretty much the whole point.”
He nods, like that’s totally cool and normal, and withdraws his hand slightly, hooking it around to the side so he can feel for the genetic sack, whatever that is. He thinks that if he had just followed Karkat’s shipping chart of complete asshattery he’d be hooking up with Jade by now, searching for a clitoris which is really probably not all that hard to do, for fuck’s sake. He’d be living on easy street as far as having sex with a sparkly eyed, narcoleptic, weirdo internet friend is concerned, and that’d be pretty chill if she was down for it.
But then he wouldn’t be watching Terezi bite her lip in anticipation, listening as she coos softly and arches into his touch. He wouldn’t be nearly this nervous which, as completely uncool as it is, is kind of an exciting feeling.
The genetic sack, it turns out, at least the one he’s located, is surprisingly easy to stimulate. About two inches in length, kind of rounded and Dave isn’t sure what its function is or what he should do with it, but when he presses against it gently Terezi seems pleased.
“You’re getting the hang of this, coolkid.” She giggles breathily, and moans, high and soft, when he starts massaging the spot with two fingers. Terezi’s nook becomes that much wetter and yeah, the couch is pretty much destroyed now. They should have done this on the floor or something. Dave brings his other hand up to cup Terezi’s right breast, taking a second to situate himself before slipping his fingers lower, dragging them along the line of her bulge and swallowing hard as it opens further, feelers uncurling and standing upright. She gasps lightly, leans into the touch, and in seconds she’s completely open and Dave doesn’t even hesitate at the weirdness of it, just brings his hand down to the genetic sack on the opposite side, working a little awkwardly to press against them both at once. When Terezi’s pants get in the way she eagerly moves them, going up on her knees to shove the fabric down over her ass (oh goddamn, that ass,) and letting it pool at her knees.
Terezi keeps arching forward and the hooks along her nook keep grasping, looking for something to grab onto, and Dave almost feels bad that he’s not a troll, doesn’t have a set of matching equipment for her to sync up to. But his hands alone have her moaning, squirming, and he actually tips his head down, glances over the rims of his shades for a moment just to watch her gasp. He can’t help but imagine what she’d look like doing this properly, hooks locked onto another troll, grinding and growling and spilling colored genetic material all over each other. It’s weirdly, freakishly hot and he really is kind of jealous.
Dave unconciously moves forward on his knees, gets up as close as he can, and flushes when Terezi tells him, in the most amazing, breathless, giggly sort of way, that this is how trolls traditionally have sex, kneeling chest to chest, a bucket between their legs if need be. But no one’s coming for their genetic material, not that Dave’s would even be acceptable, so they’re able to kneel right up against each other, skin to skin, and even though Dave nearly has a heart attack when he feels the lowest hooks lining Terezi’s nook reach out to him, brushing his dick ever so slightly, he realizes pretty fast that this might be their sexual loophole.
He lets the hooks do their thing, latch on, around, and the press of their oddly flexible hold is not quite as good as Terezi’s hand, but really not half bad. It’s better when he rolls his hips forward and the hooks pull him into the heat of Terezi’s nook, coating him in slick teal and he has to pull his hands back lest they be caught up in how quick the feelers are to close around him.
It’s sort of like what he expected from human sex, he guesses, except that he really doesn’t have any control (unnerving, but not unacceptable,) and rather than thrusting in he just sort of rolls his hips and lets the hooks hold onto him. Terezi presses close as she can, wraps her arms around Dave’s shoulders to help eliminate the distance, and after a moment of grinding and shifting his dick is brushing the edges of her genetic sacks and she’s moaning again.
He slides his hands, still teal and sticky, down her sides, down to her hips and in slightly, begins to ask if he can just sort of touch her sacks from the outside, if that would work at all, but she buries her face in his neck and purrs before he can answer.
Apparently that does kind of work.
From there it’s a lot of groping, moaning, biting, and when Dave nudges Terezi up to kiss her again, he doesn’t even mind that her needle-sharp teeth slice tiny cuts into his lips. Their mouths stain red as their legs are drenched in teal and when the press of hooks and sacks and whatever the fuck else kind of weird anatomy Terezi has is getting too much, Dave murmurs that he really wants to get her off.
She arches her back, stares sightlessly off for a moment, thinking, panting, and nods. She unwraps her arms from around his shoulders, takes hold of his wrists and directs his hands, telling him to keep his fingers spread as she eases them over the higher portions of her nook, one hand poised just above the other. The feelers there latch instantly, twine around his fingers like they were meant to interlock.
Dave isn’t totally sure he gets it, but that feeling of connection must be what’s lacking between them, as far as Terezi’s body is concerned. A substitute for another’s hooks is what she needs, and Dave is totally cool with lending a hand, or two. It’s even more awkward moving like this, with his hands wedged between them, but they manage, work back up to the heated, frenzied place they’d been at moments ago.
Terezi’s hooks cling too-tight to Dave’s hands as she damn near squeals, this squeaky little noise that is every bit as excited as her every day speech patterns, utterly alien to Dave’s ears in how needy it sounds, but altogether unbelievably hot.
Dave comes with a gasp, a groan, and he hopes Terezi doesn’t mind since there really wasn’t any way he could pull out anyway, what with the hooks nearly biting into his skin. They’ve tightened pretty suddenly, and it’s almost enough to hurt, almost enough to distract him from how good he feels, but after a few seconds Terezi throws her head back, makes a sharp noise, something that comes awfully close to a growl, and her whole body tenses. Dave straightens up in anticipation of what he’s sure will be some ungodly rush of teal genetic material, but there is none.
He guesses all the wetness from earlier was it for the day, since nothing else in particular signals her climax. She looks dazed though, satisfied, and that’s enough for him.
After a moment Terezi relaxes, falls back to land on her ass as her hooks all simultaneously unclench. Dave shivers at the loss of heat but doesn’t move closer as Terezi is collecting herself, lifting a slightly shaky hand to push her bangs out of her face. She looks to be in a world of her own, rolling her shoulders as if they’re stiff, bending forward to unkink her back. Once she’s straightened up again she reaches out and brushes Dave’s arm, scratches her nails against the skin lightly in a silent request. He follows her as she climbs down from the sofa, sprawls on the floor, watches her kick her pants the rest of the way off, and after a moment’s hesitation he sprawls with her. Terezi’s nook stitches back together, freaky as ever as Dave watches it close, and then they cuddle.
And anyone who thinks coolkids shouldn’t cuddle must have been dropped down the stairs as a child because Dave is totally okay with Terezi curling up against his chest, nuzzling his neck and licking the flush across his cheeks. He’s never been more comfortable than when he’s holding onto Terezi, finally, gently, copping a feel of her ass, and listening to her giggle. Still, to redeem himself from being a complete sappy ball of mush, Dave makes sure to pull out a good old fashioned bit of ironic bullshit.
“So was it good for you?”
He’s not surprised when Terezi smacks him upside the head, laughing all the while, but it doesn’t hurt any less.