It was all just words, at first.
Dave doesn't want to admit it but Karkat has somehow jabbed in under his skin, a splinter that's impossible to pull out, sharp and painful and fever-pulse pounding. Dave imagines that at the core of Karkat there is a bright red throbbing landscape of anger, swelling and metastasizing until there's nothing he can do to relieve the pressure but scream and scream and scream. But even that isn't enough anymore; it isn't enough for Dave to deflect all that heat with cold slick expressionlessness. Dave knows it stopped being enough for Karkat long ago, and it's even stopped being enough for him; there's an itch under his skin, now, as if he's ready to shed it.
Become something new.
They've been on this asteroid for two years and they've known they will eventually fight for almost half that time. It's an electric tension between them, crackling and hair-raising, flawlessly vicious. Dave's been watching Karkat from behind his shades. Studying him. He's right-handed, right-footed, throws his weight around in everything he does. Always fighting, always struggling. It makes Dave's hair prickle on the back of his neck and his hands reflexively curl into fists.
The dreams have been coming with greater regularity for months, until now, he dreams about fighting Karkat every night. He dreams of the dirty rooftop of his Houston apartment, the sky blazing red, red, red. He dreams of the bowels of their meteoroid, metal ceiling dream-painted with a starry soundstage sky. He dreams of LOFAF, of the cold crunch-slide of snow under his shoes, of snowflakes large as shards of glass.
Sometimes he's in control. Sometimes he's so strong his limbs are deliciously light, steps and jumps effortless. Sometimes he starts to panic. Sometimes Karkat is like a wild animal, fangs and claws and terrifying relentless weight and Dave can't escape, can't hurt him no matter how hard he hits, scratches, bites, like an animal himself, and he wakes up with the feel of tearing flesh still in his jaw. Sometimes he wins, but sometimes he loses, and those dreams are like nothing else, visceral and important, Karkat knocking him down, standing over him, one foot pressing down exquisitely against his throat. He wakes up from those dreams with urgent heat pulsing hard between his legs and he desperately palms his erection, curled in upon himself, one hand over his mouth to stifle the noise, even though there's no one else in the room to hear.
Dave's always known he would never fall in love the "right" way.
"Let's go," Dave says, finally, when they meet in the hallway one night. Dave is refusing to move from the center of it in order to let Karkat by, and Karkat is fuming, glaring, red hot, boiling hot, teeth clenched, nostrils flared. Dave's heart is pounding already. He drops into a fighting stance. "Let's do this. There's a train leaving any minute for Punchout Station and I've just handed you a complimentary first-class ticket."
"I thought you'd never fucking ask," Karkat grates out, and his expression is wild.
Dave waits for Karkat to make the first move, still keeping his stance. Karkat's breath is coming hard, now, though he hasn't moved, and Dave feels a shudder tremble up his spine.
The first blow he manages to block, and the second, adrenaline coursing through his body when he realizes just how strong Karkat actually is. His style is alien, and quick as hell, and Dave's stomach gives a gratified jolt as he realizes he may be in over his head.
"Hit me, you piece of shit," Karkat snarls, as Dave ducks a sideswipe of Karkat's hand that he realizes was meant to slash claws across his face. "There are no words for how much I fucking hate you. You insufferable nookstain, you can't even give me a proper fucking fight, you just…dodge, you just…block…you never let me…" Karkat is trembling all over with anger, and finally a hit connects, the heel of his hand cracking hard and fast and satisfying into the side of Dave's jaw. Dave is quick, too, his fist connecting with Karkat's stomach, and Karkat lets out a wheezing laugh. "Come on," he gasps out, "Is that all you're going to deign to let me experience? I'm disgusted with myself, I've been completely wasting my time, I thought maybe there was something under there after all instead of just an airheaded, self-fellating idiot…"
Dave's fist flies out, hits Karkat in the mouth, and Karkat just stands there and laughs, laughs like Dave's never seen him laugh before, blood beginning to drip down over his lip. He wipes it away with his sleeve and his eyes are feral, pinprick pupils in a sea of wide, alien yellow; the thrill of fear that curls up through Dave's stomach is the most exquisite thing he's ever felt. The next thing he knows Karkat has slapped the shades off his face, lightening-quick, and Dave flashsteps around him but he's not fast enough -- Karkat pulls his legs out from under him with a strange hook of his own leg. Dave twists on the ground, knocks Karkat's legs out from under him, too, and suddenly the two of them are wrestling on the ground. Karkat has his hands around Dave's throat, a ferocious, ecstatic grin on his face; Dave is struggling, pulling at Karkat's fingers, finally pulling back hard enough on one that Karkat lets go of his neck with a yelp. Dave gasps for breath and headbutts him in the forehead, managing to struggle free in the moment that Karkat is dazed, but Karkat hauls him back down onto the floor by the back of his shirt. The fight is a messy scramble, now, strategy gone with Dave's shades and all that's left is the desire to hurt.
Karkat shoves Dave against the floor, hard, by the shoulders, laughs when Dave's head cracks against it. "There you are," he almost purrs, teeth grinning bloody red and dangerous, and Dave realizes his own teeth are bared, his brow furrowed, his bright red eyes sparking with savage fire.
When they kiss it's not very different from fighting; Karkat's teeth sink into his lip and Dave makes a furious sound, his hips bucking up into Karkat's. There's an answering hardness there, and Dave pushes violently into the kiss, hands fisting in Karkat's hair and pulling, hard. Karkat is growling fiercely, and Dave can feel the vibration against his chest; Karkat grabs his wrists and slams them to the floor over his head, using his knees to push Dave's legs wide open beneath him. Dave struggles, shouts in frustration, and Karkat laughs nastily at the way Dave can't help but thrust up against him.
"I'm going to fuck you so hard," Karkat says in a dangerous, silky voice, and Dave shudders as his cock jumps. "I've read about how you humans do things. It's completely disgusting, but that's all you're really fit for, isn't it?"
Dave hates himself for the low groan that escapes him at that. He struggles again, and Karkat's sharp nails dig into his wrists. The pain is sudden, red-hot and goes straight to his groin. He realizes how ragged and high his breathing must sound, and Karkat is looking at him in something like wonder. "You like this," he says, digging his claws in deeper, and Dave twists in ecstasy, his mouth dropping open in a gratified moan. "Are all humans this depraved, or is it just you?"
"You should talk. My entire species doesn't have a socially-sanctioned 'ship that as far as I can tell the point of is good old ess 'n em. Aren't you supposed to ask me out on a candlelit hate date? Do all trolls give it up this easy or is it just you?" Karkat has his arms pinned over his head with one hand, now, the other shoving at Dave's shirt, hiking it up to his armpits. Dave shudders in pleasure as Karkat's nails claw down his chest, leaving red welts behind them. "Karkitty, you slut," he drawls, and Karkat growls, nails sinking in a little deeper. "Ha ha, am I about to pop your hate cherry?"
"Shut up, you sick fuck," Karkat grates out, thrusting his bulge against Dave's erection, and they both gasp out. Karkat curses. His hand goes to Dave's fly, and he pops the button. Dave chuckles quietly to himself as his zipper is tugged down, and this only seems to make Karkat even more furious. "You've been black flirting with me for a sweep and now I find out all you want is for me to win? God I hate you."
"Feelin's mutual, babe," Dave drawls, and Karkat sits up, releasing his wrists, in order to yank Dave's pants off. Dave strips off his shirt and kicks at his shoes, finally getting the whole tangled mess off his legs. He flips over, bending his knees, his ass in the air. "Well? What are you waiting for?"
Dave doesn't get a response, and when he turns around to look, Karkat is shoving his own pants down over his shoes. With wide eyes Dave realized that Karkat's bulge is not what he…thought…
Karkat hauls Dave back onto his back, straddles his face. "Suck," Karkat growls out, grabbing Dave by the hair with both hands. Dave knows his eyes are still wide with nothing to hide behind, anymore; the thin, blunt tip of Karkat's bulge is nudging his mouth, now, bright red and slick with a viscous fluid, pushing past his lips in a prehensile way that sends chills all over Dave's skin. So much about Karkat is so wrong, so alien, gives Dave such a thrill of uncanny-valley even after two years in his presence. He lets his eyes flutter closed, opening his mouth wide, letting Karkat's bulge curl inside his mouth like…like a butterfly tongue. Dave knows he's drooling, his mouth is open so wide, but he hollows his cheeks and Karkat lets out a grating moan, jerks his hair, and that jolt of pain causes a throb of pleasure in his cock. He moans, and Karkat gasps.
Dave grabs Karkat's ass with both hands, pushing him in deeper, and quickly, before Karkat can stop him he's sliding his fingers between Karkat's legs from behind. He's wet, extremely wet, and Dave's fingers meet no resistance at all in slipping right up his nook. Karkat makes a furious noise that turns into a deep, gratified moan as Dave sucks harder on his bulge and thrusts three fingers deep inside him.
"That's enough," Karkat growls, shoving Dave off him and stumbling to his feet, erect bulge uncurling upward once again, curving toward his stomach. Dave examines his fingers, which are now coated with thick, red fluid. He snorts. "When I fuck you it'll be just like getting my red wings."
Karkat kicks him onto his stomach. "Shut up," he snaps, and Dave spreads his legs again, tilting his hips up at Karkat invitingly and Karkat kneels down between his thighs to grab his ass, spreading him wider, the tip of his bulge now pressing insistently again Dave's entrance. "Like I'm going to let that revolting human sex organ anywhere near my nook." Dave is panting, light-headed, precome oozing from the tip of his cock, as Karkat pushes into him, almost…crawls into him, in an undulating wave that opens him up wider and wider as he thrusts deeper and deeper.
"Ah…oh…jegus…" Karkat is gripping his hips, his nails digging into the sensitive skin near Dave's hipbones and Dave can barely even move, the sensations are so right, the slow burn of being penetrated, the sharp pain of claws on his skin, the vulnerability of being spread open like this, oh, fuck, yes…
The first touch of Karkat's bulge to his prostate makes Dave arch up, thrust back against him with an urgent cry. It's almost too much, and Dave is only barely aware of what he must look like, but it doesn't matter; he has his forehead against his forearms, his face hidden completely. His jaw is dropped in gratification, swollen lips turned upwards in a smile, tears dripping from his eyelashes onto the floor, and when Karkat nudges his prostate again it really is too much. Dave tenses, orgasm crashing over his body like a tidal wave and dragging him under, stealing his breath, his come splattering the floor. Karkat makes a pained sound and after a few tight thrusts he's crying out, too, legs spreading reflexively, pushing Dave's legs wider too, red fluid gushing all over the floor in between them.
Karkat pulls away, standing up, and stomps down on Dave's ass, forcing him flat onto the ground. He hooks a finger near the tip of his bulge, keeping it from curling back up into his body. "Ugh. That was disgusting. You are disgusting. I need to go wash my bulge off in the sink."
"Not gonna help me clean up?" Dave asks, eyelids half-lidded.
"No. I hope you slip in it."
"I'll just leave it, then. It won't take too long for someone to figure out what happened here. I bet Terezi's already having a cherrygasm halfway across the meteor there's so much of this shit. Fuckin' gross. I can see why you freaks need buckets."
Karkat is fuming again, and he snatches Dave's shirt off the floor and drops it in the red puddle, smearing it around with his shoe. "We only use buckets if we have a partner who's worth filling one with," he says nastily, and Dave smirks. It's impossible for Karkat to come off as badass in any way right now, wearing only a baggy, long-sleeved shirt and shoes and socks, with one hand still on his bulge.
"You look fuckin' ridiculous," Dave drawls, and Karkat snarls and stomps off down the hallway, Dave's shirt balled in one hand. "I expect that back, and I expect it washed and pressed. If you wear a little maid outfit while you do it that'd be perfect, and maybe I'll allow myself to push up that lacy white petticoat and fuck you over a table, how's that sound, babe?" Karkat's scream of rage echoes off down the hallway.
Dave smirks, and welcomes himself to a whole new universe of ways to piss off Karkat Vantas.