Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1790422.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Dave_Strider/Karkat_Vantas
  Character:
      Dave_Strider, Karkat_Vantas, rose_and_kanaya_prolly_in_the_bg
  Additional Tags:
      Xeno, Porn_with_a_little_bit_of_Plot, NSFW, Grinding, bro_bulge_bumps,
      Fluff
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-06-16 Words: 4847
****** It's All Fun and Games Until Somebody Falls in Love With Their Best Bro
******
by Hambo
Summary
     You can't even be around the guy because you're hitting adolescence
     late and it's making you needy in all the wrong ways. You think of
     him every time you feebly jerk off in the shower, you want to see him
     sweating, toes curling and breaths coming out erratically. You want
     his legs draped over your shoulders, you want to hear your name roll
     off his tongue as he hits orgasm, and every goddamn time these
     thoughts invade your fucking head you feel powerless to your own
     urges. And you're starting to think the upper half of your body has
     suffered from permanent blood loss due to it all being in your dick.
Notes
     I tried to write this huge story about Davekat, and it was going to
     be amazing, but then I just made porn. Story of my life.
     I seriously wrote the sexual part of this with no bonebulge
     headcanons in mind. Just use your imagination.
You didn't think you were gay, of course. You were one hundred and one percent
hetero. (You know a story's good and cliche if it starts with those two
sentences.) But when you started having feelings for the short, angry alien you
had to wonder if maybe you were a closeted bisexual or something. And there was
nothing wrong with that, other than the fact that you were macking hard on what
anyone would mistake for a Hellspawn. Maybe because of his personality, but
mostly because he had grey skin and sharp teeth and the whites of his eyes were
a vibrant orange. It would have creeped you out a while ago, but now it's some
kind of norm and you wonder how you ever thought spending time with him would
be the emotional equivalent of gouging your eyes out.
Your name is Dave, and you really like Karkat. And he likes you, you think,
just not in the way you'd like. Your relationship reminds you of an arranged
marriage; being stuck with someone for a long time and learning to like them
and respect their dumb habits. Pretty soon you're an expert at mimicking his
speech patterns; you have fun indirectly insulting him with the words "Hi, I'm
Karkat and I like dumb movies and Will Smith."
Usually you two fight and he says you remind him of Terezi because you don't
respect personal space. You stick out your tongue at him, saying you could
respect it if you really wanted to but Karkat was so much like a kitten you
wanted to pick the troll up and never put him down. Which you guess is how you
ended up throwing him over your shoulder and parading him down the hall until
Kanaya and Rose saw and he nearly cried because the situation was like one big
Freudian Slip, only a billion times worse for his status as respectable leader.
Of course, as the old saying goes, "It's all fun and games until somebody falls
in love with their best bro." It's great, you liked annoying him and keeping
cool just to piss him off. But you craved it, now, you couldn't spend a week
without him or you'd lose your mind. You spend less and less time in Can Town
and more time in his room, talking about aquatic mammals or troll Will Smith.
You go to the library together, he reads you text from his little romance
books. You hang around in the screening room, playing Serendipity three times
in a row just to see John Cusack and Kate Beckinsale fall in love all over
again. You hate it, he loves it. But you watch it because friendship requires
sacrifice, or at least you keep telling yourself that. You think it might have
just been the desire to see him so passionate about something. You like that.
You like the way the corners of his mouth twitch when he remembers something
vaguely hilarious, and the way he acts angry when sometimes he's really not, or
the way he'll flip you off every hour of the day and not even mean a single
one.
And pretty soon you can't even be around the guy because you're hitting
adolescence late and it's making you needy in all the wrong ways. You think of
him every time you feebly jerk off in the shower, all kinds of different sexual
scenarios replaying in your mind like candy dangling right out of your reach.
You want to see him sweating, toes curling and breaths coming out erratically.
You want his legs draped over your shoulders, you want to hear your name roll
off his tongue as he hits orgasm, and every goddamn time these thoughts invade
your fucking head you feel powerless to your own urges. And you're starting to
think the upper half of your body has suffered from permanent blood loss due to
it all being in your dick.
You try so hard not to be like the fucking headmaster in one of Rose's many
fucked up wizard smut fanfiction; battling your sexuality and having a one-
night stand with some student, then basking in the afterglow as you reminisce
about how much you love each other. It's awful, you think that if your
relationship with Karkat even proceeded to that extent - which it wouldn't -
you would tell him you love him and he wouldn't be able to say it back. Which
is ironic, because he's a hopeless romantic.
It breaks your heart every time you look at that face, because somehow
just know that your feelings are unrequited and whether or not you could even
get a friendly bro bulge-bump from the guy is irrelevant because he doesn't
fucking like you. 
You enjoy fighting with him for kicks, but you know that somewhere inside him
he really means the things he says and it's all covered up by giving off the
impression that he's the tsundere trope. It's so awful, but it doesn't stop you
from popping a boner every time you're within a twenty mile radius of him.
You're starting to think that maybe you're fucked up, 'cause this has to be the
worst fucking case of blue balls anyone's ever seen. You kind of wish you could
crack a joke about the record for horniness in the Guinness Book of World
Records without it being weird.
And it's even more awful after your relationship turns really friendly (it's
been two years on this desolate rock, you've both come to accept each other as
best bros.), because once in a while he cracks that glass-shattering toothy
smile and you start to wonder what it would feel like having those lips mushed
against yours and how hot and warm and wet it would be to feel your tongues do
the tango. You reprimand yourself for torturing your dick by being around
Karkat at all now, but this friendship is real now, and you're in too deep to
quit. Also, as if your main thrusters weren't turned on already, just turning
that phrase over in your head has you using your cape as a blanket as the troll
lectures you about being the biggest dickmunch in the galaxy.
Like I don't already fucking now that, look, I'm covering up my erect penis
while you talk to me about being king douchebag the third. I'm not even
listening to anything you say, I'm too fucking focused on the thought of you
swallowing my cock.
 "And another thing, Kanaya told me you're using my computer to send John
motherfucking Egbert disgusting messages on Trollian. You taintchafing asswipe,
I hope you understand that in order to beat this piece-of-shit game we kind of
have to, I don't know, be in contact with the other players?! And that can't
happen if he fucking blocks me! Wow! I bet you didn't think about that! I think
I just saw you gasp in astonishment as what little brain cells you have just
rubbed together to create- holy shit- a thought!"
You roll your eyes, and kind of wish he could see behind your shades because
seeing him get angry over that kind of thing really tips your iceberg. You're
not sure how that simile works, but you creatively think of a way to make it.
"Karkat," You cut him off, steadying your breath. You didn't think you had to,
but calming yourself down now has proven difficult. "Calm down. I was just
telling him all the shit you were too embarrassed to say. You're welcome."
"Holy fucking shit in a rotational grub processor, you can't use my Trollian
without permission, you can't even use it with permission, because I'm sure
that my future self and all of the nook-stuffing biomolecules in his thinkpan
are quivering in delight at entertaining the thought of letting you of all
people message people under my name."
You want to roll your eyes all day. You could, but he wouldn't know unless you
got real close and let him gaze through your shades. It would require an
outstanding amount of self-discipline in order not to force your tongue down
his throat and smash your hips together. These thoughts don't make your boner
situation any better.
"Listen, Karkat, I'd love to sit here all day and chat about your hot
interspecies hatesex desires for John, but I have important things to do that
don't involve you interrupting my beautiful impersonation of you via
Trollslum." Important things. Masturbation.
It's obvious you set off some kind of fire inside him and his eyelids are
twitching because for some reason it just clicked in his head. "You read
through my motherfucking trolllogs?!" He says quietly, which makes you
uncomfortable so you sit up off the couch with the intent of walking away but
you can't, because you're on the floor now and suddenly you can't feel your
lungs and this Cancerous tool is grabbing the collar of your shirt with the
force of a thousand children on acid.
You can barely choke out a retort before he's shaking you violently, clearly
too angry to walk away but not wanting to bash your head into the floor.
Unfortunately, he's pretty much straddling you and his ass is dangerously close
to your no-no zone. If this guy feels your hard-on, it's all over. No more
friendship train for you, that fucker crashed and burned and killed everybody
inside without a second thought.
Scooching downward, you use all of your muscle to try and throw him off but he
just knocked the wind out of you and it was actually painful. Your muscles
don't want to cooperate and you're kind of getting dizzy with all this shaking.
You fail to notice for a while that he's shouting, and you don't even need to
pay attention to know that it's a string of colourful insults and telling you
how awful you are and how you don't respect anybody's privacy. You deserve
this.
You decide to go limp in his arms, letting him take out his anger before he
slouches backwards a bit and the worst of his frustration recedes. But you need
to throw him off, now that he's taken residential real-estate on your dick and
his ass is the buyer. You do it gently, though, turning over and causing him to
fall on his side. You make it look coincidental that your cape drapes over your
crotch and hides the bulge of your cock.
"Ow. The button on your jeans just jabbed me."
You look at him, feeling your face heat up and trying so fucking hard to remain
calm, cool and collected. He doesn't look to notice that your pants don't have
a button. You thank all the Gods in the universe for that. "Don't sit on me,
next time."
His eyes narrow, not in a suspicious gawk but in a way that somehow perfectly
resonates "You had it coming." That look is probably the reason why your boner
hasn't gone flaccid yet. Actually, it's throbbing with want right about now and
you seriously need to get to a bathroom and take care of it but Vantas looks
like he's just about ready to do a feelings jam, now that his anger is
dissolved. You're not ready for this. You might be ready after you tug it out
and come back.
"Okay, I gotta go take a piss, don't wait up."
===============================================================================
It's kind of cute how Karkat tried to talk to you all concern-like about your
"consistent pissing habits" a week later. He gives you this spiel about how
he's the best friend in the fucking galaxy because he's giving you this fucking
diagnosis on whatever disease you probably have.
"Pregnancy, diabetes, prostate problems," He says, and you can't help but laugh
your ass off because it's adorable that he cares but you know that he didn't
actually research these fucking things and he's getting angry because you find
it funny.
"Normally, pregnancies tend to involve childbirth." You say finally, and you
can tell he's embarrassed because he clearly just wanted to sound matter-of-
factly but now it's all coming down on him. You mean like a building being
destroyed, not the other thing. The other thing is the thing you try to force
out of your mind because your Bruce Banner down there is turning into the
Incredible Hulk. Which sucks, because so far you were doing pretty good on the
whole "suppressing the urges" thing.
"Hey, at least I tried to be fucking helpful, okay? Next time, you can do all
that yourself."
You don't enjoy the way your mind is twisting everything he says into one
huge wild sado-masochistic sex orgy.
"I plan to." You say, nearly choking on the last syllable. "I'll research my
own damn constant urination diseases." You say recalling every graphic image in
the world in an attempt to deflate your dick
"Good. Hey, at least I didn't bring back the list of STDs. I was being
conscious to your frail ego, since I learned that not having sex on your planet
is a big hit on your self esteem."
Holy fuck, Karkat, you're a great bro but please don't mention sex. I don't
want to hear that word come out of your mouth.
Yes, you do. You don't say that, though. You don't dare think it, either.
"Yes, you're right. And you would know all about that, 'cause you made us,
right?"
He scoffs. You take it as a victory, silently having a celebration over finally
getting your dick to soften. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. You just want to
hang your with your bro, down a few litres of apple juice, watch hilarious
Youtube videos and tell him all about human culture and probably fuck him about
it by telling him untrue crap about your politics or something.
Whoa. You mean fuck him up about it.
"Yes, Dave, we had this great dream to create a society of pink flesh monkeys
who all had meaningless sex recreationally. It was fantastic, we threw a party
about it and everything. Look around, Dave, we didn't exactly get to mold you.
It just happened, we played the game and you guys came out and that's it. End
of story. We don't even like humans that much, but we manage to put up with you
because... I don't know. We have nothing else to do." He says simply, and you
know he's trying to get you to cry like a baby but it obviously doesn't work.
"Hey, trolls are pretty fucked up, too. You guys ejaculate into a bucket and
give it all to a giant worm. Then she shits out billions of eggs. You know
what, humans probably sex it up so much because we're free to do so. Trolls
gotta let it all build up until the magical sex robot comes and collects your
sperm."
Karkat blushes. You don't understand why he's always so touchy about the
reproductive laws of troll society. A minute passes without either of you
saying anything.
"Dave-" He starts, a new expression covering his face as you cut him off with a
sharp 'shhh'.
"I know, you're going to tell me that's not how it works, yadda yadda yadda,
it's all pretty fucked so I'm going to do us both a solid and say we drop it.
"Dave." He's growling, still blushing, and you knew that last mocking sentence
was going to get your face pummelled. Jesus, why the fuck do you have to be so
damn self entitled and act all mocking to troll culture-
"Dave, are you fucking getting off to troll reproduction." He hisses, and you
look down in confusion but there it is. You should have gone with the Dracula
shtick as an excuse to wrap yourself in your cape. But now he knows you have a
human boner and you're going to get your face punched in and he's never going
to talk to you again.
But he doesn't move, he just stands there fuming, shoulders raised in
frustration. You let yourself think of the response that will give you the
least pain.
"Yes."
"What the grubshitting fuck, Dave, we can't have one conversation without your
human boner interrupting it. I knew you were a fucking xenophilliac, Strider, I
didn't think it would be this bad, holy nookhumping fuck it is a miracle that
we could even talk about the Mother Grub earlier without you furiously fumbling
your bone bulge while I sat in amazement at your utter fucking hormonal
stupidity."
He's calmer about this than you are. You're thankful that you didn't actually
admit that the Mother Grub turned you off and cumming into buckets wasn't the
hottest thing around. And you're gratuitous as fuck to your past self for not
actually telling Vantas that you have the most painful hardon for him. 
"Yep, I've got mad blueballs over your egg-shitting Grub Queen. Now if you
don't mind, you can step out of my room as I fondle my dick over the thought of
this thing gargling hundreds of gallons of a cum slushie and then birthing
billions of gross little squirmy grubs."
Karkat's expression softened. "Okay, Dave, I get it. It's gross. I know you're
going through human pupation now, so I'm not judging you. Rose told me all
about your craving for contact among other things, and about the blood and the
eggs, and it's totally alright-"
You cut him off, waving your arms and making a disgusted face. "What? No, no no
no no no no no." You say, making a gagging noise. "I'm not having a fucking
period, holy shit, why the hell is Rose telling you about hers," You think your
dick just retracted inside of your body.
"God forbid I want to know a little about the species we created." Karkat says,
crossing his arms and staring at you intently.
"Well, here's a useful bit of info: guys don't have eggs. There's no blood,
there's no pupation- it's called puberty, and for the love of god please don't
ever try to talk to me about this ever again."
"Fine, fine. So the male puberty is different than the female. Stupid. But I
can see some similarities."
You're kind of offended and grossed out that Karkat is kind of indirectly
saying that he's seen what Rose is like during that and it's reminding him of
you right now. You don't remember learning much about girls' puberty, but they
do go through hysterics and fluctuations in hormones. You guess you can see
that.
"Can you calm your bulge down? I'm trying to talk to you. It's distracting."
"I can't exactly fucking tell it 'down, boy'."
"Okay. I'll leave and come back in ten minutes. It better be gone by then."
"Jesus, Karkat, you're such a tool."
He growls. "I'm not standing around while you're fucking turned on by God
know's what, it's right there, it's bulging, I can't stop thinking that
whatever we're talking about is clearly making you go into some kind of heat
cycle and I don't want to be around that."
You feel your face heat up, and you facepalm with such force that your shades
feel like they're being pushed into your skull and you can't fucking take it
anymore so you just blurt out the most stupid, shittiest thing you could even
muster.
"God damn, Karkat, I'm not turned on by buckets or puberty or whatever the fuck
we were talking about, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not sporting a huge
boner when me and Rose talk, so clearly you're the one giving me blueballs."
You say, pinching the bridge of your nose just to show how secually frustrated
you are. He doesn't respond, just stands there with the most baffling look on
his face.
You're not one for touching without consent, at least not when it's sexual, but
despite this you take a step forward and mash your faces together, lock lips,
suck face, whatever you want to call it. It feels better than you imagined,
even when he opens his jaw to protest but you're already darting your tongue
into his beautiful, beautiful goddamn mouth. And, as luck would have it, your
tongues really are doing the salsa now. You feel his breathing get ragged; that
alone makes you feel wet and hot and your dick is throbbing inside of your
pants already. Your hands are on both sides of his face, his are resting at the
small of your back and squeezing your shirt.
This is the hottest thing you've ever done. And yes, yes you are a fucking
virgin so this is so much different than your hand. You shove your hips
inelegantly against his and for some miraculous reason, he grinds back,
eliciting a heavy groan from the back of your throat because it feels so
goddamn amazing, creating a kind of friction you've never really felt before.
You want more.
You feel like he's done this before. His movements are frantic, though somehow
not nearly as awkward or desperate as you. He licks his lips when you pull
away, and you guide him across the room and onto your bed, messily covered in
blankets and pillows. He lies down onto his back as you wordlessly instruct so,
wrapping his arms around your neck and bringing you down on top of him. You
mouth moves down his jaw, pressing hot, sloppy kisses down his neck and to his
collarbone. His breath hitches, legs instinctively pushing together with a soft
keen. You bite him gently between his neck and shoulder, sucking delicately on
his flesh and leaving three hardy licks. You stop to appreciate the beautiful
mark you made, and he whines as you've stopped touching him for even just a
split second. You run a hand through his hair and press the other up under his
shirt, feeling around his chest and exploring the smooth surface. He yelps a
bit when you find his horn, and you look up to find his eyes squeezed shut,
mouth agape, and eyebrows furrowed together. You're pretty sure you could come
just looking at his expression right now.
He squirms, letting out a high whimper as you rub his horn and let your other
hand graze his grubscars. Kanaya told you about those, so you aren't freaking
out over the large lumps on his sides. He's whining and clicking and making the
hottest noises you've ever heard; your dick is still throbbing in your jeans
and you grind it back on Karkat's knee to release some of the tension. You
pant, fogging up your shades and you flip your head pretty violently to help
them fall to the floor. They were getting in the way.
Somehow, Karkat is about ten times more of a turn on when you can see him
better. You groan and rock against his knee, biting at his neck again and
licking your way up to his ear. He's still a hot mess of pants and whines as
you nip at his earlobe, but the volume goes up considerably when you take your
hand out of his shirt and palm him through his jeans. You feel your orgasm not
too far away, and you find a kind of rhythm as you grind against his knee. He's
much more vocal than you, now; moaning and chanting your name in the most
pleasurable way possible, and there's so much pressure building up on your dick
that you can barely speak anymore, you just whimper a disgruntled "Karkat"
between panting heavily and grunting when you hit orgasm. The inside of your
boxers warm up, damply covered in semen now and you delicately slow your
grinding down as your ride out your climax. You hear him whining, though, and
you realize he hadn't exactly hit his peak yet. So you drop a little lower,
still hazy from your release, and hold his hips in place as you put your mouth
down wide on the fly of his jeans. He jerks a little, but you huff hot air
through the seam and move your mouth accordingly, tongue grazing roughly over
the bulge. He pants for half a minute longer, letting out a choked cry as he
came, staining through his pants and, unfortunately, your sheets. It was bright
red, sticky and warm and transparent like maple syrup. That was going to be
hell to wash.
You sighed lazily, climbing onto the mattress beside Karkat and lying down.
Vantas watched you as he tried to steady his breathing. You shifted, smirking a
bit at the dark crimson flush of the troll's cheeks. He rolled over onto his
side to face you completely and exhaled deeply. He didn't say anything, clearly
trying not to risk ruining the moment. Somewhere between you two catching your
breath and you leaving to take a shower, Karkat collected his husktop and left.
When you came back out, Vantas had left and you were left standing like an
idiot in the middle of the room.
===============================================================================
Your name is Karkat, and you didn't leave for a reason. Not a good one, anyway.
It was too much, you needed to get out of there before you got caught up in
telling him all your feelings and you don't know if you could handle him
telling you that he just needed to get off, that you were a good bro for doing
that for him but it didn't mean anything.
You scoff, getting angry at him already, in a scenario that hasn't even taken
place yet.
You lock yourself in your block for a few hours, taking a shower and changing
your clothes and pacing and looking at adorale human meowbeast videos because
they calmed you down and you actually can't believe something that adorable
used to exist.
You hear a sharp knocking on the door not too long before you're almost getting
bored with these videos, and you remain completely silent, with the hope that
Dave will go away. You know it's him. Your cover is blown, however, because the
video finally buffers and an adorable 'meow' surfaces from the speakers. You
sigh.
"What an interesting greeting." Says Dave, from the other side of the door.
You're feeling angry again, but pause as you take a look at the events that
have occurred so far. At least he came back. He wouldn't come back if he didn't
care. You didn't want a meaningless fuck, hell, you weren't even expecting it
but you still didn't plan to have sex with him and leave. You guess you did
kind of pull a dick move.
"Karkat, I know you're in there, I just heard your adorable little meow. A-plus
cat mimicking, there. It was fantastic."
"It really was a meowb- cat, actually." You counter, tapping at your table.
"Like fuck it was, where the hell would you get a cat?"
His stupidity would actually amaze you if it weren't so inconvenient. You
exhale deeply, as if it's some huge chore to go to the door and let him in. His
hair is messy, he's wearing regular clothes (Pajamas are probably in the
material cleaning machine, and for a good reason), dark baggy jeans and a plain
white shirt with his stupid record on the front. You don't think much of it.
"Why'd you run away?" Dave asked, leaning against the doorframe. You shrugged,
leaving Dave to frown.
"You know, you were really cute, all moaning my name and whimpering." He
bounced his brows. You feel your face heat up, and when you try to think of a
retort, nothing came out but a few garbled sputters. Strider snickered. "So you
wanted a one-night-stand, huh." He says, and you look back up at him. He
appears crestfallen.
You violently shake your head, walking up to him and pointing a finger at his
chest. "Just what kind of fucking troll do you take me for? I wasn't lying when
I said trolls don't have meaningless sex, you fucking bulgestain."
"Hey, don't get all defensive on me. You're the one who walked out while I was
washing up after dinner."
You stare confusedly at him. He bounces his brows, and you still don't
understand what he's so smug about. He decides to continue.
"Yo, I was gonna come out and romance the fuck out of you, it would have been
fantastic. Fuckin' cuddles and then sleeping together. Not even in the sexy
way. Just chilling."
You let out a breathy sigh, nodding intently. "We could do that here. I mean, I
don't have a human bed, but I dug up an old recuperacoon..." You trail off,
looking at him out the corner of your eye hopefully. He scratches the back of
his neck, looking wary.
"As long as I don't drown." He agrees.
You two spend the next hour cuddling up in your 'coon and he's almost asleep
when you notice something and whisper, "Hey, Dave."
"Yeah?" He slurs, voice edging on groggy.
"Your pants don't have a button, do they."
"Yeah."
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