Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/238449.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      John_Egbert/Karkat_Vantas
  Character:
      John_Egbert, Karkat_Vantas
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-08-12 Words: 7588
****** Hold Onto Me ******
by Miko
Summary
     When all they have left to hold onto is each other, how can they ever
     let go?
Notes
     This was a response to a Kinkmeme request for 'cuddling for warmth',
     and I just had to do it even though there were two excellent fills
     already. The chance to play with troll biology was too good to pass
     up. Warning for blatant cliches like you would not believe.
     ETA: Pretty_fanart from Dexteri!
"Augh, what the fuck is this shit?"
Under less dire circumstances, the sight of Karkat hopping from one foot to the
other like he was trying to find a way not to stand in the snow would have been
hilarious. No, on second thought, it was actually pretty funny even though they
were currently running for their lives. John had to clamp a hand over his mouth
to stifle his giggle.
"Haven't you ever seen snow before, Karkat?" he asked curiously. He scooped up
a handful, even though it was cold against his bare hands, and was delighted to
find it was good packing snow.
Not that they had time to stop and make a snow fort, or even have a short
snowball fight. Too bad, he was pretty sure Karkat could really use a little
more fun in his life.
"Snow? Is that what this is?" Karkat grimaced, shaking his uplifted foot like
he was trying to get the snow off without having to touch it. As if it
mattered, since he would only have to set his foot right back down again. "It's
fucking freezing."
"Well, yeah, pretty much by definition," John laughed. "Snow is frozen rain.
Well, it's a little more complicated than that, since frozen rain is really
sleet or hail, but that's the simple explanation. I guess you're from a
tropical area? Where I lived on Earth, we had snow for a little while each
year, but there are lots of places that have it for months and months!"
Karkat gave him a sour look. "Frozen rain. That is the most ridiculous thing I
have heard in my entire life, and considering my unfortunate association with
you, that's fucking saying something. There is no such thing anywhere on
Alternia, I can tell you that much. If this is one of your nooksucking pranks,
I swear I will bury you in this shit until you drown. Where the fuck are we?"
"Um... I think this is Jade's planet," John said, taking a quick look around.
"The Land of Frost and Frogs, but before she lit the forge and the snow melted.
I guess that makes sense." He bit his lip, trying not to think too hard about
why that made sense. The Witch of Space and the Knight of Time had sacrificed
themselves, buying time by stalling Jack and using the their powers to send the
last remaining survivors of the game far away in terms of both time and space.
Of course Jade would have sent them to her own planet, where else would she
have known well enough now that Prospit was destroyed?
And so John and Karkat were alone together, at least for as long as it took
Jack to hunt them down and finish them off. John was almost certain they were
in a doomed timeline - at least, he hoped they were, because if this was still
the alpha timeline then the universe was well and truly fucked - but that
didn't mean he wouldn't fight for every moment of life he could hold on to.
"We need to get to shelter, it n-never stops snowing and we'll both freeze to
death," he said, glancing around. He was already shivering, his teeth starting
to chatter. Maybe it was just as well that they didn't really have time for a
snow fight. He rubbed at his arms, feeling gooseflesh prickle over the surface
of his skin. Karkat didn't seem to be having similar trouble; he was just
standing there, still making faces at the snow around his feet, but not
shivering at all. Strange, if he was from a planet that was entirely tropical.
Maybe his thick skin kept him from feeling the cold.
"I think there's a building over there," Karkat said, pointing. Straining his
eyes to see through the fallen snow, John thought he could just barely make out
a dark shape looming on the horizon. Impatient, he summoned the Breeze and blew
the snow out of the way, giving him a momentarily clear view of Jade's frog
temple in the far distance.
Karkat tackled him with a yell, and John went down hard in a tangle of flailing
limbs. The snow broke their fall, thankfully, but he still got a sharp elbow in
the gut and a smack to the face that might well leave him with a black eye. He
wasn't entirely certain that Karkat hadn't done it on purpose.
"W-what was that for?" John cried out, scooping up some snow and holding it to
his rapidly swelling eye.
"Have you misplaced your fucking think pan entirely? Are your brains just
hanging out in the open, neurons firing everywhere and not connecting with
anything else?" Karkat demanded. "The more you use your fucking powers, the
faster that feathered asshole can track us. That's how he found us in the Veil
in the first place!"
"Oh," John said, wincing. "Well, I d-didn't know that. How are we supposed to
d-defend ourselves if we don't use our p-powers?" What were Karkat's powers? He
was a Knight like Dave, but what did Blood grant him?
"With our weapons, idiot, what else?" Karkat snarled back, picking himself up
and shaking off the snow with a disgusted shudder. "You managed just fine
before you got your stupid God Tier. Anyway there shouldn't be anything here we
need to fight, if Strider sent us back far enough, the game hasn't started yet
so the imps haven't invaded."
"Ahaha, right." John looked at the dim shape in the distance, and winced. "So,
I g-guess that means we're walking. Well, at least the activity should k-keep
us warm." He pushed himself to his feet and started off in the direction of the
temple, slapping his hands against his arms and thighs in an attempt to
stimulate bloodflow. Or something. He was sure he remembered reading that trick
somewhere in one of his Scouts survival guides.
Karkat gave him a weird look, but shrugged and followed him. John tried to keep
up a steady stream of light conversation, hoping to distract both of them from
the weighty matters they were fleeing from. The way he couldn't stop his teeth
from chattering didn't help. "S-so, I figure, our first order of b-business is
to find shelter," he said, as cheerfully as he could manage. "Then we start
progressing through the g-game, as if this was our f-first world. There won't
be anything for us to f-fight, but we can start solving the p-p-p-puzzles."
"What? Why the fuck are we doing that?" Karkat asked, and John was a little
envious to note that his teeth weren't chattering at all. He was hugging his
arms against his chest, but still not shivering. Trolls really must be more
resistant to the cold.
"I figure, our only ch-ch-chance of w-winning now is to b-beat the game
properly," John explained. "There's s-so much we never had a ch-chance to d-do
in our session, there j-just wasn't t-t-time. But if D-dave sent us b-back far
enough, we should have all the t-time we n-need."
"If you change anything from the way it was when you arrived, you'll be
creating a doomed timeline, idiot," Karkat exclaimed, aghast. "Are you trying
to ensure we get killed?"
"K-karkat... I'm p-pretty sure w-we're already in a d-doomed timeline," John
pointed out, as gently as he could.
"Oh." Karkat's voice was surprisingly quiet, and he looked pensive when John
glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah. I guess you're right."
He didn't answer again after that, no matter how much John chattered at him.
John figured he needed the space, so he kept his attention forward, resisting
the urge to check over his shoulder every three seconds. However, he wasn't
about to just let Karkat brood in silence without a reminder that he wasn't
alone, so John kept talking away, filling the silence with anything he could
think of. To his dismay, the temple didn't seem to be getting much closer, even
though it felt like they'd been walking forever. John couldn't feel his fingers
and toes anymore, and he knew that wasn't good.
"Are you suuuuure we c-c-couldn't risk me using my p-powers just long enough to
fly us to the t-temple?" he asked, trying not to whine. Wheedling was one
thing, but whining was just not acceptable. Not when it was more important than
ever that he be a good friendleader. "C'mon, Karkat, I'm sure he hasn't even r-
r-realized we're back in my session yet."
There was still no answer. Frowning, John finally looked back over his
shoulder. "Karkat? Are you n-not s-speaking to... Karkat?"
He was alone in the endless expanse of white. Wildly he looked all around, as
if Karkat could somehow have flanked him or gotten in front of him, but there
was nothing but snow no matter how hard he looked. The only difference in any
direction was the deep imprint of his tracks - only his tracks, not Karkat's,
and even those were being rapidly filled in.
Panicking, John started running back along his trail. How had they gotten
separated? Was it the snow? But it wasn't falling that heavily, it wasn't like
Karkat wouldn't have been able to see him. Had Karkat deliberately abandoned
him? But why would he do that? They were each all the other had left, now.
Surely the troll understood that they had to stick together, no matter what.
Thankfully he didn't have to go further than his tracks were still showing
before he saw the dark blotch in the snow up ahead. Or back behind, since he
was backtracking. John picked up his pace, swearing as the numb blocks of ice
he called his feet made him stumble repeatedly over unseen obstacles hidden by
the snow.
As he got closer he was able to make out the details of the blotch. Karkat was
laid out full length in the snow on his back, one hand over his chest and the
other flung up beside his head, fingers curled into a loose fist. The wind
ruffled his hair and the ragged edge of his shirt, but he wasn't moving and the
snow falling on him was already starting to pile up. If it was melting against
his skin at all, John couldn't see it, and he had a sinking feeling that was a
very bad sign.
"K-karkat!" he shouted as he crossed the last distance between them. He fell to
his knees beside the troll, reaching out to shake the other boy by the
shoulders. "Karkat, are y-you... oh my g-g-god." He flinched back from the icy
cold of Karkat's skin. It didn't feel like he was any warmer than the snow
around them. He didn't seem to be breathing, either. Frantically John held his
hand in front of the troll's nose, then cursed when he realized his frozen
fingers weren't going to be able to feel Karkat's breath.
Leaning over, he put his ear to the other boy's chest, and nearly sobbed in
relief when he heard the faint, ragged beat of Karkat's heart. It sounded
horribly slow, but for all John knew that was perfectly normal for trolls.
Maybe Karkat's heart was beating fast, he had no frame of reference to be able
to tell.
He was pretty sure that lying unconscious in a snowfield was not a normal state
for trolls, however.
Screw the possibility of Jack Noir finding them because of John using his
powers. What good would it do him to stay hidden if Karkat died because of it?
Scooping the troll up awkwardly in his arms, John summoned the Breeze.
Flying was something John was fairly certain he would never grow tired of, but
at the moment his enjoyment was entirely eclipsed by his worry for Karkat. The
troll huddled limply in his arms, legs and one arm dangling, the other arm
squished between their bodies. There should have been a warm spot on John's
front where Karkat's body rested against his, but Karkat was as cold as the
Breeze around them.
It seemed to take forever to reach the ruins, though John had a sneaking
suspicion it wasn't actually that long. Inside, out of the snow and wind, it
was marginally warmer but the air was still cold. John ventured deeper inside,
desperately seeking a source of heat, or at least a smaller room that would be
a little cozier.
He had no success finding the former, but after considerable searching he
finally discovered the latter. The small room was empty, his footsteps echoing
off the walls even though the space was so small, but John had a sinking
feeling it was the best he was going to find.
"C-c'mon, Karkat, t-time to... huh?" John got a pleasant surprise when he
looked down. Karkat's eyes were still closed and he looked horribly pale
despite his grey skin, but at some point he'd latched one hand in John's shirt,
and tucked his head under John's chin, huddling in closer. Better yet, when
John tried to set him down, Karkat made a disgruntled-sounding clicking noise
and refused to let go.
That allowed John to calm down a little, taking a few deep breaths and forcing
himself to think. He'd sat through plenty of survival lessons in Boy Scouts.
What were you supposed to do to treat hypothermia?
Get the victim warm, of course. He was working on that. John didn't have any
blankets, but he did have a sylladex full of random junk. He ejected the entire
modus all at once, spewing objects all over the floor.
The huge pile of shoes and Barbasol cans looked tempting on the surface -
trolls were always going on about their piles, weren't they? - but John
rejected it as too cold and uncomfortable. The much smaller pile of the various
outfits he'd alchemized seemed a better choice.
He laid the unconscious troll down in the pile, carefully prying loose Karkat's
death grip on his shirt. Karkat growled, but eventually released him and curled
up in the pile instead, still huddled in on himself. He looked pathetic, like a
bedraggled and abused puppy.
What else? Remove the victim's wet clothes? Well, John was fairly certain that
step was meant for people who'd fallen in a river or lake or something, but
Karkat's clothes certainly weren't dry after lying in the snow like that.
"Please don't wake up and kill me, please don't wake up and kill me," John
chanted between teeth clenched to keep them from chattering. Gingerly he pulled
Karkat's shirt off, disentangled himself once again from the clingy troll, and
then reached for Karkat's pants.
There he hesitated, caught between the strong need to help his friend, and
powerful embarrassment at the thought of undressing another guy. A guy he
barely knew in real life, for all that Karkat had been talking to him online
for years. They'd only had a few hours' worth of conversation in total, when
you thought about it. And...
John smacked himself on the cheek, hard enough to really sting. What was he
doing, fretting and stalling over his embarrassment while his friend was dying?
"No homo," he muttered to himself as he fought the battle between the pants
fastenings and his numb and shaking fingers. "Totally no homo, dude, you're
saving his life, you don't get any less homo than that. Right? Right."
Having finally defeated both himself and the pants, John started to pull them
down over Karkat's hips. He yelped in surprise and pain as a set of wicked
claws introduced themselves forcefully to his bare wrist. Looking up, he saw
that Karkat was awake, a soft warning growl spilling from between his lips.
Well, sort of awake. His eyes were barely open, and from what John could see of
his pupils it didn't look like he was focusing properly. Fuck, he might not
even be able to tell that it was John leaning over him. Small wonder he was
growling.
The sound changed, becoming a series of clicks and hissing noises that John
belatedly realized might be speech. "Uh, Karkat?" John replied, trying not to
sound nervous. Predators could smell fear or something, couldn't they? If
trolls didn't count as predators, John didn't know what did. "Karkat, it's me,
John."
Karkat's scowl deepened, and he said something else in his weird, grating
language. From the tone, John guessed it was an insult that ended in a
question. Assuming Alternian used the same lift in tone at the end of a
sentence to indicate a question, of course. For all John knew, it could have
been an order.
"John Egbert?" he tried helpfully. "The human? You know, who doesn't speak
Alternian?"
The scowl briefly flashed to an annoyed look, and Karkat cleared his throat.
"What. The ever-pitying. Fuck. Are you doing?" His voice was hoarse and raspy,
the words overlaid by a sort of buzz that John didn't think any human would be
able to reproduce.
"Ummm... I'm undressing you?" John nearly squeaked.
"Yeah, I figured that much out by myself, fuckass," Karkat snarled. "Why."
"To warm you up?" John fervently wished Karkat would let go of his wrist, so he
could pull away. Right now he was stuck with his hands on the troll's pants,
which were halfway down his hips, and it was really kind of awkward.
"How is taking my clothes off supposed to make me warmer?"
"Because they're wet, and that means it will take that much more heat to warm
you, because the water will absorb part of it," John babbled. "I think. Or
maybe because it evaporates and that cools you off more, just like sweat does?
I don't know, I just know you're supposed to strip someone suffering from
hypothermia if they're in wet clothes!"
Karkat wrinkled his nose, like he was trying to puzzle through John's words. Or
maybe he just smelled something bad. He seemed marginally more alert now, his
eyes open enough that John could see more than just tiny slivers of gold, but
he was obviously still sluggish. "Fine, whatever," he finally muttered. "I
don't see how that's supposed to help, but if nothing else the dampness is
fucking cold. But I can do it myself!"
He pushed John's hand away and finally released it. John cradled it gingerly
against his chest, checking it surreptitiously and wincing when he saw five
bleeding puncture marks in his skin. It was nothing compared to some of the
wounds he'd taken during the game - even if he didn't count the two times he'd
died so far - but it still hurt.
Watching Karkat fumble and curse at the pants, John wasn't actually sure the
troll could do it himself. But he decided that discretion was definitely the
better part of valour, as his dad would say, and he turned away so he wouldn't
be staring so obviously.
At least his own clothes weren't wet, other than his shoes and socks which he
quickly shed. Feeling was starting to return to his extremities, which was both
a good and a bad thing - good, because it meant he probably didn't actually
have frostbite and wouldn't have to worry about losing fingers and toes, but
bad because it hurt. A lot.
John turned back to find that Karkat had apparently finished stripping, because
his pants and underwear had been dumped on top of his t-shirt. Not that John
could tell by looking at Karkat, because the troll had burrowed into the pile
of clothes, covering most of his body, though John could see random flashes of
grey skin here and there.
"You're still not shivering," John realized, frowning. "That's a really bad
sign, I think. How did you get so cold, so fast? And why didn't you say
anything?"
"I don't know, by the time I realized how bad it was, I was already in the
middle of passing out," Karkat muttered, hiding his face against one of John's
suit jackets. "What's 'shivering'?"
"You know, shivering, like I'm doing right now," John said, mystified. Usually
the only words Karkat didn't understand were proper nouns, or terms that just
didn't have an equivalent in troll culture. But surely they must have a word to
describe shivering.
"What, you mean the way you're shaking in terror?" Karkat snorted, and lifted
his head just enough to glare at John. "Sorry, grubsucker, I'm angry, not
scared. Noir can suck my soft, squirming bulge; I'm going to kill that
nookwiffer so hard he won't even have time to realize he's dead."
"I'm not scared, I'm cold," John retorted, stung that Karkat thought he was
trembling in fear. "It's got nothing to do with Jack, it's just my body trying
to warm itself up."
"Why would wasting energy moving around like a spastic freak make you warmer?"
Karkat asked in disbelief. "The hell kind of fucked-up anti-survival reflex is
that? Energy is heat; if you're cold you should be shutting down to conserve it
as much as possible!"
"Wait." Now it was John's turn to wrinkle his nose in puzzlement. "Are trolls
cold-blooded?" That was what reptiles did when they got cold, wasn't it? Went
into... torpor, that was the word.
"No, what kind of ridiculous question is that? Why the fuck would our blood be
a different temperature from the rest of our bodies?" Karkat snapped.
"No, no, I mean..." Frowning, John tried to find another way to put it. "Does
your body temperature depend on your surroundings? I mean, completely, not just
influenced by it?"
"Why would you even... oh fuck, right, you're mammals," Karkat cut himself off.
He said 'mammals' like most people would say 'filthy disgusting sewer dredge'.
"Yes, trolls are ectotherms, which I assume is what you meant by the quaint and
completely fucking nonsensical term 'cold-blooded', just like all superior
species should be. How the fuck you manage to survive when your every bodily
function depends on you keeping yourself within such a short temperature
range..."
"Hey, I'm not the one who collapsed in the snow before he even realized what
was happening," John shot back, rolling his eyes.
"I've never been in conditions nearly that cold before, how was I supposed to
know how fast it would hit me?" Karkat protested.
"At least you seem to be doing a little better," John said, placating. He
figured it was probably not a good idea for them to get into a fight right now.
Both of them were on edge, tempers were sharp and the situation was desperate,
but they needed each other to survive.
"Yeah, though whatever that heat source you had near me earlier was, I wish
you'd bring it back," Karkat mumbled. "It's better in here than out there, but
it's still really fucking cold. If I fall asleep I'm afraid I won't wake up
again. Not that I want to sleep, fuck, that's all I need, dreams of the fucking
horrorterrors to cap this night off."
"Heat source?" John blinked, baffled. "There wasn't any heat source. I wish!
You were so cold it was like holding an ice block to my chest when I was
carrying you. Believe me, if there was a source of heat here, we'd be using
it."
"Well something sure as fuck felt warmer than I was," Karkat insisted. "I was
pretty out of it, but I remember that much, and it still feels like one side of
me is warmer than the other."
"Oh. Uh... Karkat, I think the heat source was me," John realized, torn between
embarrassment and laughter. "You were clinging to me pretty tight when I tried
to put you down, that's for sure. And I guess I would feel warm to you, even
though I feel like I'm frozen half to death."
"You?" Karkat stared at John for a moment, before he buried his face once more.
The pointed tips of his ears flushed a dull pink, which John thought was
fascinating. "Right. Fucking mammal. For your information I was not clinging, I
was just... just..."
"Clutching?" John suggested helpfully, stifling a snicker. "Glomming on to me?
Snuggling up? Cuddling?"
"Shut the fuck up, fuckass, I wouldn't do any of those things if my life
depended on it," Karkat yelled at him, and now his ears were red instead of
pink.
"Your life kinda did depend on it," John pointed out cheerfully. He flopped
down into the clothes pile, since it was the only comfortable place in the
room, though he stayed carefully out of Karkat's reach. Just in case he decided
that physical retaliation would be a good reaction to John's teasing. "Any and
all of those words are an accurate description of what you were doing. So does
that mean you don't want the 'heat source' back after all?"
"Fuck you, I'm fine," Karkat said. "Never better, in fact. The only thing that
would make this situation even more perfect is if you'd shut your spewing word
hole before you say something so inane the entire universe implodes due to the
sheer mass of stupidity."
"Uh-huh." John grinned to himself. Dealing with Karkat in real life was turning
out to be not nearly as annoying as putting up with his text rants. For one
thing, there was the added amusement of watching his face go through various
constipated-looking expressions of frustration and anger.
For another, it was easier to see beneath the bluster to the vulnerability
beneath, when he could actually hear Karkat's voice and see the look in his
eyes.
They laid there quietly for a few minutes, with only the sound of their
breathing to break the somewhat awkward silence. Karkat's breathing sounded
kind of shallow to John, and a little ragged, but like the heartbeat issue John
had no way of knowing what was 'normal'.
Worse, it was slowing down even as he listened, and he was afraid it was
because the room seemed to be chilling further. John wasn't sure if it was
actually getting colder or if he was just noticing it more because he wasn't
moving, but now that he knew trolls were cold-blooded he was really worried
about how well Karkat would be able to handle prolonged low temperatures.
"Karkat?" he finally ventured, trying not to sound tentative. "Are you sure
you're gonna be okay like that? It feels like it's getting colder, maybe the
sun went down or something. Does the sun set here?"
Karkat didn't answer for long enough that John started to fret, and when he did
speak he sounded oddly sluggish and weak. "I said I'm fine, fuckass. I don't
need your help."
"No, of course you don't need it. That doesn't mean you can't take it anyway.
C'mon, I'm so soft and squishy it's pitiful, even half dead you'd be able to
beat me," John coaxed, thinking it might be the prospect of vulnerability that
was eating at Karkat.
The troll sputtered incoherently for a few seconds before exclaiming, "Are you
fucking hitting on me? What happened to your stupid homosexual thing?"
"What?" John blushed horribly, eyes going wide. Frantically he reviewed what
he'd just said, but he couldn't find anything in his words that could be taken
as a come on. "No, when did I ever do that?"
"Talking about how fucking pitiful you are, like you're advertising," Karkat
snapped. "That was so blatant you just embarrassed everyone on the fucking
planet."
Groaning, John buried his face in his hands. He was so used to side-stepping
the potential for Karkat's weird hate-love that he'd forgotten about the
equally bizarre pity-love trolls had. Honestly, there needed to be a 'Field
Guide to Not Hitting On Trolls' or something. Maybe he would write one, if they
survived this. He'd probably have plenty of experience with the topic by then.
Then he started laughing despite himself. "I guess I did, seeing as 'everyone
on the planet' is only you and me anyway."
"In the fucking Medium, then," Karkat replied. "There're probably Dersites and
Prospitians blushing themselves to death right now, aren't you proud of
yourself? You started killing them off before the game even begins."
"Seriously, though, I'm freezing, so you must be worse," John insisted.
"Sharing body heat is like, the most important step according to the survival
guides. And even if you don't have any heat to share, once you absorb mine
you'll warm up too, and then I'll benefit, right?" Reminding himself that there
was absolutely nothing homosexual about saving your best bro from freezing,
John swallowed his pride and finished with a soft, "Please?"
"Oh, fine," Karkat grumbled. "If you're going to whine about it like a
particularly retarded lusus deprived of treats. Get the fuck over here, then."
Quickly John scrambled up and into the heart of the pile, before Karkat could
change his mind. It only took him a moment to dig his way down through the
clothes to the middle where the troll was huddled. John gasped as his hand
brushed some part of Karkat's body, and he realized all over again how cold the
other boy was. No wonder Karkat sounded sluggish. How could any living thing be
that cold and survive?
He hadn't even settled before he found himself with an abrupt armful of frozen
troll. Despite his protests, Karkat clutched at him frantically, squirming to
try to get as much of his body in contact with John's as he could.
"Shit, why are you so fucking warm, it's not fair," Karkat groaned. The words
were a little muffled by the way he had his face tucked into the curve of
John's neck. Even his breath where it gusted across John's skin felt cool.
"Mammal," John reminded him, trying not to shiver. It was like snuggling up to
an ice statue. That, plus the desperation in Karkat's grip, told him the
situation was still pretty deadly serious no matter what the troll was
protesting to the contrary. "Uh, it would probably work even better if I wasn't
clothed," he added reluctantly. Stripping was going to make him feel a lot
colder, especially since it would mean more skin-to-icy-skin contact. Not to
mention his embarrassment levels would go through the roof.
"Whatever, then why are you still dressed?" Karkat muttered. Giving in to the
inevitable, John started squirming out of his God Tier clothes. Karkat backed
off grudgingly for exactly as long as it took John to strip, and then he was
back like a determined limpet.
As John had feared, Karkat felt even colder against him without the thin
barrier of cloth. He found he didn't actually mind as much as he'd expected to,
especially when Karkat made a strange little chirping noise and huddled close.
For the first time, John thought he was starting to understand the notion of
pity as a form of love. Karkat was just so pathetic and helpless at the moment,
it made John want to coddle and take care of him.
It was more like the sort of affection you might feel for a pet, but it was
still affection.
He rubbed Karkat's back, figuring that encouraging blood circulation was still
a good thing. And hey, if Karkat found it comforting, bonus. It seemed like the
troll was slowly warming up, at least. He now felt less like a block of ice and
more like a bucket of freezing water.
Realizing Karkat's probable reaction to being compared to a bucket of anything,
John snickered. "What?" Karkat demanded irritably, but John shook his head and
refused to answer. Some things Karkat was better off not knowing.
It actually felt kind of nice to have Karkat curled up against him. The troll's
body was lean and smooth, his skin felt tough without being hard, and despite
the fact that he was supposedly at the same point in development as John, there
were muscles clearly defined in his limbs and torso.
How ripped would Karkat be as an adult? He would make a great action movie
star. John could totally picture Karkat starring alongside Nic Cage, maybe as a
pair of mercenaries or cops or something, gruff and angry but with a heart of
pure shining gold. That would be the most epic movie ever.
Karkat shifted against him, and John realized he'd been dozing off. Apparently
he was more tired than he'd thought, but he didn't really want to sleep. He
wasn't ready to face Dave and Jade in a dream bubble just yet, didn't want to
see his friends with glassy, empty white eyes and know that they'd died to save
him.
Although he probably wouldn't be able to see Dave's eyes as usual, he would
still know they were there.
"Stop fucking squirming, grubtard," Karkat mumbled, hitching himself a little
closer. His words were slurred, and for a moment John was concerned until he
realized that Karkat didn't feel that cold against him anymore. Just
drowsiness, then.
"You're squirming more than I am," John replied. "Or... something. What are you
even doing?" he asked, mystified. Both of Karkat's arms were around his neck,
but something was shifting against his hip.
Karkat went tense and breathless, and then shoved John away abruptly. John
sputtered a protest as cold air rushed into the space between them, making him
shiver again. "Karkat, what the hell? We were just starting to get warm!"
"It's warm enough, neither of us is going to die," Karkat said, keeping his
face turned away as he huddled into a ball. He still looked wretchedly
miserable to John.
"Don't be silly, you'll only get cold again if you're not against me," John
said, reaching out to him. Karkat batted his hand away with a swipe of claws
and a growl, and John regarded him with astonishment. "What is your problem all
of a sudden?"
"Nothing," Karkat practically yelled into the clothes. John just continued to
stare at him, and after a long pause Karkat groaned. "You are the stupidest
pail licker on any planet in any universe in any timeline, ever. Your think pan
is so empty it's created a vacuum, sucking in every iota of intelligence until
everyone around you will be rendered as stupid as you are. Do I have to fucking
spell it out for you? WHAT OTHER BODY PART IN THAT VICINITY WOULD BE MOVING?"
"Uh..." John's brain shorted out and refused to process the answer, even though
it was painfully obvious what Karkat had to be talking about. "It... it moves?"
he finally managed to squeak out.
"Wha... yes, obviously, how else would you... no, fuck this and fuck you, I am
not having this conversation with you," Karkat cut himself off. "I don't want
to know how horrifically grotesque your mammalian body really is."
John honestly couldn't decide if he felt violated or curious. Karkat's dick...
well, bulge... had been... squirming against him... He shuddered.
There was no homo involved in sharing body heat with your best bro to survive,
John reminded himself. It was just for survival. It didn't matter if said bro's
alien tentacle dick got a bit frisky in the process, because... because...
yeah, there was no way he was going to justify that as anything but gay.
No, no, wait. They were both teenagers, they were in a life or death situation,
and a naked body was a naked body. Of course it was natural to react like that.
It was like, a biological imperative to get off after facing down death;
everybody knew that, they used it in the movies all the time. It wasn't him
specifically that Karkat was reacting to, just the situation. Yeah, that was
it.
Taking a deep breath, John gathered every bit of mangrit he possessed. A true
hero wouldn't let a bit of embarrassment come between him and saving a friend.
"Turn around," he ordered as firmly as he could. "Now that your front is
warmed, we should do your back." And that would put them in a position less
embarrassing for both of them.
Karkat turned his head enough to peer at John with one eye. What John could see
of his expression looked incredulous, but after a moment it turned to weary
resignation. Without a word, Karkat rolled over and presented his back to John,
who slid forward to meet him.
Wrapping himself around Karkat from behind was still awkward, but not as much
as cuddling up from the front again would have been. Karkat's back was indeed
cold, though not anywhere near as bad as he'd been to start with.
Unfortunately, only now did John realize that Karkat wasn't the only one
reacting viscerally to the situation. Definitely to the situation, not to the
knowledge that Karkat was aroused. Definitely. Swallowing hard, John carefully
arranged himself so that his hips weren't actually touching Karkat.
"What the fuck are you doing, nookwhiff?" Karkat grumbled. "If you're gonna
make me do this, you can fucking well do it right."
"No, don't," John exclaimed, but it was too late; Karkat had wriggled backwards
to close the gap between them, and now John's dick was pressed up against the
troll's firmly muscled ass.
They both froze. John took tiny, shallow breaths, trying not to move at all. If
Karkat was breathing, John couldn't feel it.
"John, are you..." Karkat said, his voice wavering.
"Um. It's just a reflex?" John said, laughing weakly.
"What happened to your fucking homosexual thing?" Karkat demanded. His volume
was rising, but the quiver in his voice was still there. John wished he could
tell what was causing it.
"It's the situation!" John protested. He was blushing so hard he was surprised
the room hadn't turned downright tropical from the heat generated by his face.
"Yeah, the situation of being naked and rubbing up against someone you have
mating fondness for, idiot," Karkat snapped. He still wasn't moving, which at
least meant he wasn't making it worse but it also meant he wasn't moving away.
"No, that's not... it isn't..." John stammered, not even certain what he was
trying to say. He wasn't attracted to Karkat. It wasn't like he'd ever paid any
attention to Karkat physically... well, except for admiring the feel of his
muscled body against him earlier. And imagining how rugged Karkat would look as
an adult. But that was the same as his appreciation for Nic Cage, which was
totally no homo no matter what Dave said about his man-crush.
"John," Karkat said, and he sounded strained. "We are the last living members
of our respective races, outside of the time fuckery that means we're currently
existing before your world was destroyed. Does it really matter?"
Did it really matter if he was attracted to another guy, or just aroused by the
situation and a biological reflex? Would he really be reacting if he truly,
honestly wasn't attracted to Karkat in the least?
There was literally nobody left to care who John liked or didn't like, and why.
Nobody to tease him, good-natured or otherwise. Nobody except the two of them.
If they could feel good and find comfort in each other for a little while, was
that such a bad thing?
"Karkat..." John's voice caught in his throat, and he couldn't get any other
words out.
Thankfully it seemed like Karkat understood him anyway. "Yeah," he said, and
reached up and back to catch the nape of John's neck, his claws scraping the
sensitive skin as he pulled John closer.
John shuddered and hid his face against Karkat's shoulder, even though the
other boy already couldn't see him. It was more so that John couldn't see
Karkat, so he could just concentrate on the way Karkat felt against him instead
of over-thinking everything and freaking himself out.
Karkat hissed and rolled his hips back against John's erection. It felt good,
amazing, and John couldn't stop himself from rubbing against Karkat in return.
His innate sense of fairness pinged him, telling him that he was getting a lot
more out of this than Karkat was. Trying not to think about what he was doing,
John slid his hand down over Karkat's chest. Despite himself he marvelled at
the way he could feel the play of muscles under Karkat's cool skin. Yeah,
totally no homo. Right. Who was he kidding?
Karkat's hand tightened on his neck as John approached his groin, and the troll
was making little drawn-out chirping noises that were slowly rising in pitch.
He was trembling, which was actually kind of hot, and whoa holy shit that was
not a dick.
John froze again, panicking for a moment as Karkat's bulge twined around his
hand. The chirps turned into a whining keen that made his teeth ache, and it
sounded like Karkat was having trouble breathing.
Staying still was not making John's body very happy with him. Finally he
disengaged his brain and let it run in little circles on its own while instinct
took over. He rocked his hips into Karkat again, and carefully stroked the
fragile-feeling flesh beneath his fingertips.
That seemed to be the right thing to do, as Karkat's tremors turned to outright
shuddering. Growing a little bolder, John explored the surprising length of it,
both turned on and weirded out by the feel of the squirming flesh. The noises
he drew from Karkat grew increasingly heated, which in turn sent fire running
through John's veins to concentrate in his groin, until he couldn't imagine how
they'd ever needed to worry about being too cold.
"Fffffuuuck, Johnnnn," Karkat warbled, apparently having trouble getting the
words out. "I need, fuck, p-pail..."
Oh right, trolls and their weird pail fetish. Luckily John always kept an extra
bucket or two in his sylladex, just in case he encountered a particularly
enticing doorway. He could just see them on the floor on the other side of the
room, half hidden by the shoe pile.
Karkat's keening was rising in intensity and urgency, but John really didn't
want to get up and go all the way over there. That would give him too much time
to start to think, and anyway he kind of thought he might die if he had to stop
rocking up against Karkat. Stretching out his free hand, he managed to focus
long enough to summon the Breeze to push the buckets towards them.
The noise that Karkat made when the empty pail rattled over the floor was
absolutely indescribable. The desperate, needy whine went straight to John's
dick, and he moaned in response. Finally his fingers closed around the handle,
and he yanked it closer so he could pass it to Karkat.
The troll let go of John's neck to literally snatch the pail out of his grasp.
Panting, Karkat shoved it down between his legs. Not three seconds later he
cried out and went rigid, his bulge tightening around John's hand, and John
heard the sound of liquid splashing in the plastic pail.
The sound was surprisingly erotic, though that might have been due more to the
way Karkat was reacting. Only when he was sure Karkat was finished, the troll
hunched over the bucket and shaking, did John finally disentangle his hand from
Karkat's bulge and bring it to his hip instead. With that anchor to steady them
both, he started rutting in earnest against Karkat's ass.
After a moment Karkat reached back with one hand to grab at his neck again.
This time when his claws dug in it didn't hurt, it felt amazing. That was the
last little bit John needed to push him over the edge, and he came with a harsh
cry.
For while afterwards he clung to Karkat, breath sobbing in his lungs and his
whole body shivering with something other than the cold. He held onto the
afterglow as hard as he could, not wanting to face the reality of what he'd
just done.
"Stop it," Karkat said, his voice harsh but his touch on John's neck now
surprisingly gentle.
"Huh?" John replied, not sure what he was supposed to be stopping.
"Quite thinking so hard, fuckass," Karkat elaborated with a put-upon sigh. "I
can hear the rusty gears squeaking in your think pan so loud it's giving me a
headache, too. Stop trying to figure out if this is fucking 'homosexual' or
not, and I won't worry about whether it's supposed to count as red or black. It
just is. Deal?"
Despite his obvious efforts to sound scathing, there was a note of uncertainty
in Karkat's voice. Realizing that the other boy was just as thrown off by what
they'd done made John feel oddly better about it. "Deal," he agreed hoarsely.
Karkat squeezed his neck once more, then released him to squirm around so they
were facing each other. He must have captchalogged the bucket or something,
because there was no sign of it now. Karkat wrapped his arms around John's
chest, and John returned the favour, tucking Karkat's head under his chin and
curling around him.
"We'd better find a different planet to start playing through, unless you wanna
have to stop to warm me up every fucking five minutes," Karkat grumbled against
his chest.
John couldn't stop a smile from springing to his lips. "Might not be so bad,"
he admitted. "You're surprisingly cuddly."
Karkat went tense, then relaxed again. "Whatever. Grubfucker. You're just
disgustingly squishy. And warm," he added fervently, snuggling a little closer.
Red or black, homo or no homo... maybe it really didn't matter. John felt like
he wasn't alone, and that meant more than anything else possibly could right
now.
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