Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/202461.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Spades_Slick/Karkat_Vantas
  Character:
      Spades_Slick, Karkat_Vantas
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Human, Pedophilia, Rape
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-05-20 Words: 2017
****** Membership ******
by customfont
Summary
     Karkat becomes an honorary member of the Midnight Crew.
Notes
     Another request. Hope it's decent.
Karkat found himself in what could be called a "Den of Thieves" because what
else was there to fucking do? His dad wanted him to get a goddamn job to get
some money.
He was fucking thirteen. How was he supposed to get a job?
Admittedly, it was easier than he thought. There was some ad in the paper
needed for some delivery boy or some shit.
And when he he knocked on the door to some grimey looking basement apartment
and was immediantly pulled in, his mind reeled and decided this might not of
been the brightest idea.
Someone strong had hands on clenching hard on his shirt and weren't letting
go.It was pitch black and the only light came from a burning cigerette inches
away from his face. "Who sent ya?" Karkat stuttered and the man blew some smoke
on his face and he started coughing wildly. "The feds? Bet they're gonna try
an' get us with some stupid kid? You gotta wire?" Et cetera, et cetera.
"Look." Karkat finally forced out and the harsh, raspy voice stopped for a
second. "There was an ad in the paper and I.. y-yeah."
There was silence. Deafening, murderous silence. "Oh. Haha." He started. "False
alarm, fellas. We're alright! Just our new delivery boy!"
The lights switched on, but it didn't help much. It was a small place, just a
couple of books and shelves and pin-ups of pretty women on the wall along with
a tv in a corner, and a table covered with cards, poker chips, and empty
glasses. Karkat supposed the stupid-ass glow was supposed to be mood lighting,
but really it just made everything look kinda orange and even grimier.
Then he noticed the three guys pointing guns at him and he figured it might
benefit him to stop inwardly insulting their hideout. They were all scary,
imposing looking fellows, despite their various height differences. All in full
black. All ready to shoot him to bits.
"Aw, come on, fellas. He's alright." The man holding his shirt said. They put
their weapons down, all a little reluctantly. The biggest guy just flexed his
fingers and scowled. He didn't look like he needed a weapon. Bullets were for
complete pussies when you were built like a brick wall.
The hands let go of Karkat's shirt and he fell back, cuing them all to laugh.
Karkat was shaking and, whoops, looks like his face was covered in tears.
Fuckdammit, way to have a good first impression. Karkat looked up at the man
who was holding him so roughly earlier. He was kinda skinny, a fair bit taller
than the kid, rough and stubbly and pale looking. His eyes were intense and
dark despite being so amused right now.
Oh, and then there was the huge, red and hastily stitched-up scar going down
his right eye. That was fairly important.
"Geez, kid. Thought we were gonna have to turn ya into mincemeat!" He leaned
down, ruffling Karkat's hair and he shook his head, rather annoyed (then again,
he always was.) "The name's Spades. Tell ya what, for being such a good sport?
You got the job."
Karkat stared at him. What. So being a good sport was being scared shitless to
the point of crying? What the fuck did he get himself into?!
... But still. A semi-steady source of income.
Jack held his hand out to him and Karkat sniffled and smiled and shook it.
"Welcome to the Midnight Crew."
---
The job was pretty easy, all things considered. He didn't have to do much
besides pick boxes up that he was pretty sure were filled with drugs, deliver
boxes that were probably filled with drugs, answer the phone when they were
out, and pick up lunch on the way home from school.
All this took up maybe thirty percent of his time. The rest?
Well, twenty percent was dealing cards. Ten was talking about troubles with
broads. Another ten was laughing at those problems. Twenty-nine percent of that
was miscellanious fun and mischeviousness.
The final one percent was whenever he got a wad of money shoved into his fists
when he walked out the door every night.
It kind of fucking rocked.
---
Saying Karkat didn't have many friends was a lie. He had plenty of them. They
were all just completely insane.
Then again, he was pretty positive that working for a bunch of guys who were
certainly not part of the mafia, no siree, and he was pretty positive "Clubs
Deuce" wasn't anyone's real name ever.
But wasn't it completely weird to say that sitting around a bunch of cigar-
smoking, sailor-mouthed, black-clothed, most likely drunk, swindling criminals
talking and laughing and treating him with respect made him feel like he
belonged in the cold basement hide-out?
The answer was a big, fat, fucking yes.
He was okay with that.
---
Spades took a really nice shining to him and that was probably the coolest.
He'd call him punk and he'd pay him way more than needed and let him join on
their betting pools for horses (Always put your money on Maplehoof and he was
right) and he'd let him nap in one of the back rooms when he spent too many
hours arguing with people on the internet the night before.
Spades would ruffle his hair when he came in and wrapped an arm around around
him on the way out in some shitty-half hug and squeeze him before telling him
to get some rest.
Karkat was kinda weirded out by it. But it wasn't like he was constantly
working in a den of crooks and murderers, right?
Oh, wait.
---
Karkat had to come in kind of late one day because he was helping Terezi finish
some stupid-ass school project. He didn't get a chance to call and all he found
in the hideout was Spades.
He threw his backpack in the corner like always and started to apologize
profusely.
Spades brushed it off and ruffled his frizzy hair and told him it was okay.
His hand lingered there for a split second too long and that really bugged
Karkat for some reason.
"Issnothing, alright? Ain't got much to do around here anyhow. The rest of the
fellows are outta here, anywho." Welp. He was drunk. Spades took a seat at the
dirty table and leaned his hand in his chin. "You can leave if ya want. It's no
prob." Well, he'd been even more drunk earlier. It wasn't too big of a deal.
"Nah. I kinda wanna hang around. Nothing else to do." Spades grinned. He took
this as an invitation.
"I got a plan." He got and brought over some booze in a fancy glass bottle and
two glasses. "Might as well teach you how to hold your liquour, eh?"
Karkat's day suddenly got a little more fun. "Alright. I'll play." He sat next
to Slick and stared intently at his glass. Without much of a warning he
immediantly chugged it.
It kinda sucked. It was cold and made his throat burn and his eyes water.
Karkat decided he liked it and proudly announced that as he slammed the glass
down, looking all badass. Spades thought that was the funniest damn thing and
laughed hard.
And it wasn't long before Karkat's mind was hazy and warm and laughing at
everything. Spades got closer to him, arm around him.
And he fucking kissed him.
It was possesive and rough and tasted like booze and ashes. Karkat managed to
draw back and, whoops, good job fuckass, fall out of his chair and straight to
the floor. Fuck everything. Slick took this oppurtunity to pin the kid down as
shove his tongue dow his throat again. "Stop it." Karkat tried to murmur, but
Spades just kept going and laughed and said "You'll like it."
So Karkat opted to fighting and shouting at him He was balls as it and just
ended up making it even worse.
Spades punched him. He couldn't believe he would have the balls to do it. He
punched him in the face and he sputtered and spat out some blood. "Do what I
tell you, punk." He grabbed his hair and dragged him up. Spades down in a chair
and spread his legs a little.
Karkat was whimpering as Spades shoved him down to his knees. "It ain't so bad,
kid..." He crooned, the hand in his hair twisting and making him yelp. "You'll
get an extra twenty if ya do this, huh? Does that make it a lil' more worth
it?"
Karkat shook his head. Everything was hazy and the lights were making him dizy
and he didn't dare look up and see the face glaring at him.
Spades sighed and jerked the boy's head up, fingers twisting his hair harder
and it felt like he was going to rip his fucking scalp off.
"Do what I say, you little fucker." He let go of him just long enough to unzip
his pants and pull out his cock. No surprise, he was already rock-hard just
waiting for Karkat to stop being a bitch and do it.
The hand was on the back of his head again, a threat. Karkat murmured some
stupid apology as if this was all his fault.
Spades grinned and pushed him a little closer to the thick member. "Then get it
over with, punk."
Karkat's mouth opened slowly, and he managed to push his tongue out to lick it.
Spades shuddered. Okay, that was a start. A little closer to ending it. He
pressed his tongue against it again and licked it, base to tip, over and over,
barely changing. Spades scoffed. "Yeah, figured it would be your first." Spades
shoved some fingers into the boy's mouth, prying it open wide as it would go.
He uncerimoniously shoved his cock in, holding Karkat's head even as he gagged
and choked.
"No teeth. Go slow. Use your fucking tongue." Spades slowly moved his head back
and fourth on his cock like Karkat was some sort of toy. And Karkat had to
pretend to be the best toy ever.
Spades was mostly silent, besides his breath coming out a little faster when
Karkat did something he liked, he guessed. Karkat's tongue massaged the
underside of his cock as professionally as he could (which wasn't very much)
and Slick sorta groaned, he supposed, real quiet and his hips bucked a little
and made Karkat gag and cough again.
Spades apparently thought that was really amusing and jerking his head back and
forth, fast and rough and mean, fucking the choking boy's throat and barely
making more than the occainsonal quivering groan about it.
When Spades finally, mercifully came he shoved Karkat's head straight to the
base and held it there, jizzing directly down his fucking throat and forcing
him to swallow or choke to death.
His grip on Karkat loosened and he shoved the boy forward as he redressed
himself. Karkat was shivering and shuddering and dizzy, pushing himself up was
a chore and he had to hold onto the table.
He stared at the ground and saw some blood and some cum on the concrete and
just shut his eyes.
Slick just shoved a roll of cash into his fist. "You shoulda gone home an hour
ago. Stay safe, got it?"
Karkat couldn't promise that. But he still managed to go home, vomit, and take
a long shower.
---
He decided he was sick in the morning and managed to make himself throw up to
prove it. He didn't want to deal with school.
He called work at noon and of fucking course, Slick answered.
"I won't be coming in. Stomach flu." He murmured quickly. The man on the line
was silent.
Finally, he spoke. "Alright. Fine, sure. You'll, uh, be coming in tomorrow
though, you think?"
Karkat's turn to be quiet. "Maybe. I dunno. It's pretty fucking bad."
"Right." Karkat's hands were shaking. "Kid. I'm sorry. I really am, alright?"
Karkat just barely let Slick hear him start to cry again before he slammed the
phone on the receiver.
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