Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/726371.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Dave_Strider/Karkat_Vantas, Terezi_Pyrope/Dave_Strider, Terezi_Pyrope/
      Karkat_Vantas, Terezi_Pyrope/Dave_Strider/Karkat_Vantas
  Character:
      Dave_Strider, Karkat_Vantas, Terezi_Pyrope
  Additional Tags:
      Hermaphroditic_Trolls, Masturbation, Oral_Sex, Threesome, PWP
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-03-18 Words: 3405
****** so, i think i'm a xenophile ******
by uumiho
Summary
     "I haven’t gotten to watch any filthy weird troll sex, and I feel a
     little insulted by that.” 
     Dave is pretty excellent at playing it cool, but his alien lovers
     keeping the lock-down on all their dirty alien sex secrets just won't
     fucking do. So he does something about it. And it's awesome. The end.
     You don't even need to read the story anymore.
Notes
     So, I said I usually don't post my PWPs. Apparently I'm a liar.
     This is dedicated to Asuka Kureru (aka. Askerian) because she has fed
     my dirty poly kinks more than any other author on the internet and
     that cannot go without some measure of gratitude expressed.
     This has only been lightly edited by a friend; it will receive a more
     thorough editing later, but in the meanwhile feel free to point out
     any corrections.
One day you finally work up the balls to ask the question you’ve been wondering
for ages.
“So, how do you guys fuck?”
Terezi and Karkat stare at you.
None of you are wearing very many clothes.  Karkat’s pants went somewhere, and
Terezi’s missing those and a shirt, baring a skinny chest and round hips and
the sexiest rainbow patterned boxers you’ve ever seen.  You opted out of the
no-pants party but your shirt is wrinkled and wedged halfway under the couch,
which you are currently lounging on.
Your dick is hard as rock and you think you might have to join the pantsless
brigade somewhat soon, but there are matters even more pressing than your boner
against the fly of your jeans.
“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” you say, when neither of them offer any
information edgewise.  “We’ve all engaged in a thorough fucking exploration of
each others’ freakish alien junk, and you guys know how humans fuck but aside
from our incredibly acrobatic daisy chains of carnal lust and more imagination
than can be realistically contained in three bodies--even ones as incredibly
sexy as ours--I haven’t gotten to watch any filthy weird troll sex, and I feel
a little insulted by that.”  Karkat’s starting to look a little pink around the
edges, but Terezi snickers and gives him a contemplative look.
Good ol’ fucking Terezi.
Her nostrils flare in that way they do when she’s trying to get a better
picture of whatever she’s concentrating on; you watch her jaw work under the
sharp angle of one grey cheek, knowing from having your tongue further in her
mouth than should be possible that she’s chewing on the inside of her lip to
quell her desire to slobber all over something.  Usually you’d invite her to
put her tongue to good use somewhere on your anatomy, but your nipples are
already bruised and your hips look like a fucking massacre of pointy teeth
marks and redpurple hickeys, so you let it slide.  There’s more important
things to be accomplished here.  Terezi leans toward Karkat and sniffs
delicately, a smile dancing on the tar black of her lips.  “Dave has a point,
you know,” she says, her voice halfway between a singsonging lovebird and a
buzzsaw.
Karkat looks desperately like he wants to protest, but is fighting the fact
that he can’t think of a good reason to refuse.  “You’re a fucking perv,” he
says, finally.  “I don’t ask you to let Terezi fuck you while the whole fucking
world watches.”  Terezi looks inordinately pleased at the general understanding
that she would be (is going to be, you hope) the one doing the fucking.
It’s not true, anyway, because a week and a half ago Terezi pushed you face-
first into the floor and pulled hard at your hair while she fucked you until
you almost screamed into your folded arms, and Karkat ended up sitting two feet
away, staring in awe at what must have been the most gorgeous sight his ocular
globes had ever fucking beheld.  You don’t bring this up because you made some
pretty embarrassing sounds and don’t really want to invite Karkat to comment on
them again, even if the soreness in your scalp and your ass provided enough
sensory recollection that you must have jacked off to the memory at least three
times before your dick was too chafed for it to be comfortable anymore.
Winding her long, bony limbs around Karkat, Terezi slides her ass across the
floor so she can purr in his ear.  Trolls can fucking purr, you remember, not
like a cat but like gravel in a tin can rattling inside their ribcage.  It’s
fucked up and weird as hell but you have trouble complaining when Terezi is
doing something you can’t really see behind Karkat’s back and he starts up at
it while your dick is halfway down his throat.  Her nails prickle the back of
his neck and you watch him shudder, his legs, wiry with muscle, twitching and
curling in toward him until they bump into the thigh she’s draped across his
lap.  She nips the elongated shell of his ear and chuckles, “Don’t be afraid,
Karkitty.”
“I’m not fucking scared,” he snaps, shoving her.
Like a tiger, she pounces on him.  You wonder if this is actually legitimately
part of the process as you wiggle yourself into a more comfortable position,
watching a flurry of pantsless legs kicking in time as they bite at each
others’ mouths.  Terezi wrestles Karkat out of his shirt and bites at his
ribcage, dips her tongue into the valleys of his throat, pins his elbows to the
ground and ignores when he claws at her shoulders viciously as she sucks at his
nipples hard enough to raise dark red splotches against his charcoal smear of a
chest.
You didn’t even know trolls had nipples, but apparently those are a thing your
respective species share.  Which is great in every imaginable way, because
Karkat’s are sensitive enough that he yowls and squirms under her, breathing
escalated into rough pants. 
He casts his head back and forth.  Your eyes meet.
You consider taking off your shades to get a better view.  By the way Terezi’s
working her way down Karkat’s torso, sliding her palms down his forearms and
swirling her tongue over the flat expanse of his stomach, you think their show
deserves your full sensory attention.  You let them slide down your nose a bit,
just in time for Terezi to lock her fingers tightly around Karkat’s wrists and
hold them in the air above his hips as she nuzzles her face against the shadow
his bulge makes through the thin fabric of his underwear.
At this moment, your cock reminds you that it’s powerfully, painfully erect and
you have way thicker material restraining it from glorious freedom.  You shift
uncomfortably, noting that it’s so fucking stiff a midget could use it to do
pull-ups or something, and you muse over this metaphor until Terezi stops
tortuously sliding her tongue just under the waistband of Karkat’s boxers and
looks up at you, grinning.  “This good enough for you, coolkid?” she asks, and
you almost want to call the whole thing off and tell them to get on top of you
right fucking now.  That would be sort of pathetic and massively uncool,
however, so you settle for a vague smirk and letting your glasses slide a few
centimeters further down the bridge of your nose.
“Honestly, I’ve seen better,” you say, and you don’t even need to try to affect
the bored tone of your voice; by now it’s a flawless skill, a coolly trained
habit.  Karkat snarls and tries to sit up, but Terezi headbutts him in the
stomach and he goes back down, wheezing.
She takes the opportunity to divest him of his boxers.
“Fuck, Terezi, what the fuck--” Karkat sputters, then Terezi hooks him under
the knees with her calves and digs her claws into the back of his neck, using
the momentum of his struggle to flip them over.
“Shut up, Karkat,” she instructs, cheerfully devious as she stretches out
beneath him.  “Or I might change my mind.”  Her grin is a wide crescent of tiny
white daggers and silent laughter, wrapped in swollen black lips dotted with
teal blood from the scratches inflicted by Karkat’s teeth, duller than hers but
no less vicious.
Your shades fall clean off your face, and you almost forget to pick them up.
Terezi’s tits are tiny and pointy like the rest of her, and they follow the
sharp arch of her ribcage as she curves her spine to drive her hips into
Karkat’s.  His cheeks are red when he twists his hips between her thighs,
grinding down against her and making a soft sound at the feeling of his naked
bulge against the fabric of her boxers.  Their hands go to her waistband at the
same time, and the slick, teal length of Terezi’s bulge twists into sight.  In
one clumsy motion they throw the garment away, and it lands in such a way that
you can see where the crotch is stained from her leaking snatch.  You wish you
could see it drip down her thighs, leaving shiny bluegreen trails along the
soft grey insides of her legs.  Karkat drops his mouth to her chest and rubs
his fingers against her nook, and as you strain to see as much as possible,
your right hand creeps slowly toward the fly of your pants.
The rock of his elbow, back and forth like the beat of a song, sets the pace
for your hand, rubbing yourself roughly through the thick fabric of your jeans.
 Terezi’s hand joins the party--and you think a jack-off party is way better
than a pants-off party, though you suppose one could easily lead to another,
like a double party of fun and oh fuck, those are long, sooty fingers curling
around the lightly writhing curve of Karkat’s dick, squeezing it and twisting
her wrist nimbly like her hands were made to be wrapped around a cock.
Then Karkat’s riding her fingers and gasping and you give up, you fucking give
up, your hand is in your pants and you don’t even bother building up slow,
because you shove your fingers under the fabric of your boxers too and grab
li’l Strider with all the furiosity of a diabetic fat kid trying to steal candy
from the grocery store.
Heavy breathing is the only sound that fills the room for several long minutes,
until you realize your eyes have slipped closed and you’re running on
imagination and the beautiful sound of Karkat’s whimpers and Terezi’s keening.
 Your eyes snap open and, raggedly, you call out, “Guys.”
Neither of them respond.
“Guys.”
You hurl a pillow at the back of Karkat’s head, and in his surprise he yanks
his hand away from Terezi’s groin and whirls around to glare at you; beneath
him, Terezi hisses in displeasure.  “Not that this isn’t great and all,” you
say, surreptitiously sliding your hand out of your pants and anxiously drumming
your fingers against your hipbone to convince yourself not to put it right the
fuck back, “but this isn’t really what was on the menu for tonight.”   Your
stare is very pointed.  Your boner is very irritable.
Their faces study yours, then turn to each other.  You try to understand their
feelings, considering that in all the weeks you guys have been snogging and
screwing in various different combinations of the three, they haven’t fucked
each other just one-on-one.  At least not in front of you, which you guess
could make all the difference.
Karkat begins to inch away, but Terezi rolls her back and lunges for him, her
mouth attaching fiercely to his own as she lays him flat on his back, her small
breasts squishing between them.  Their hips rock without coherence; they mumble
into one another’s mouths, things you can’t hear, but you pick up the syllables
of a couple swear words and smile despite yourself.  Terezi starts to sit up
and Karkat follows her with his mouth, lifting his shoulders from the cold
floor and seeking her heat.  For a second she allows it, both of their
abdominals twitching as they hover midair, messily moving their lips like
they’re sucking out one another’s life force, but then Terezi pushes him back
flat, and lifts her head to face you.  She can’t see you, but you look straight
into the empty redness of her eyes and watch her nostrils flare as she drinks
in your scent.
This new angle is... good.
You put your hand back in your pants, and watch her concentrated stare turn
into a grin.  She lets you stroke yourself for a time, her blank stare fixed
like you can pretend she’s seeing you more than smelling.  Karkat is watching,
too, and finally he growls, gruff and bashful, “Shit’s in the way, you useless
asshole.”  You pause, lifting your eyebrows, and consider being difficult
before Terezi lets out a bright cackle of amusement and delight.
“Off with the pants, Strider!” she instructs.  That would take too much work,
so you do the next best thing and slide your pants down your thighs and
carefully navigate your cock out from under your waistband, revealing just
enough to make their attention focus on you that much more raptly.
“Okay, okay,” you say, settling the crook of your thumb around the base of your
cock and eying them speculatively.  “Your turn.”
Carefully they gravitate around one another, arranging themselves until Terezi
is kneeling between Karkat’s legs, their pelvises pressed close together.  You
can see everything from this angle: Terezi’s face, the slant of Karkat’s brow,
the space between their chests and their junk, shifting with each tiny rub of
their hips.  Karkat moves his hand; he’s staring at Terezi, forgetting to put
on a scowl for your purposes.  His eyes are soft as he reaches down and grabs
his own cock, then reaches for hers, and you watch with interest as they twine
together like... like tentacles, like fucking two differently coloured alien
dicks wrapping together and making the aliens attached to them shudder and blow
air through their noses as they try to get themselves under control.  (You know
from experience that their bulges aren’t actually dicks and are way more like
giant semi-prehensile clits, weird and slippery and impossibly sensitive, they
don’t really shift between hard and flaccid like a dick would--but you can’t
stop thinking of them as cocks, because for all its strangeness having both in
one person is almost too awesome to be true, and you’ve explored half of the
possibilities that lends so far and have dozens of plans to tear into the other
half as soon as possible.)
Terezi twists her hips and grinds her snatch into Karkat’s, and as your fingers
curl around your cock without needing instruction from your brain, you realize
this is it.  The nasty secret to troll copulation.  It’s like fucking penis-
fencing and scissoring all in one and it’s fucking hot as hell, hot enough that
the wrinkles on Terezi’s brow  as she squeezes her eyes closed makes you want
to moan.  You bite it back, and the empty space left in the air is filled by
Karkat making a low, rough sound deep in his chest.  He purrs a little and your
hand moves lightning fast up and down your cock, drawing quiet little grunts
out of you as Terezi squeaks and rolls her hips, a motion that follows all the
way up her spine, to the back of her skull as it drops to one shoulder like her
neck can’t support its weight.
She buries her face into the hard-softness of his abdomen and starts to laugh,
high and breathy, because she’s fucking TZ and that’s what she fucking does.
 Your eyes bore holes into the grey expanse of their shoulders as you remember
hips jerking under your nose as your tongue pressed into her slit, shrill,
hysterical chuckles echoing in your ears as she thrashed against your mouth,
deliriously expelling whatever noise came to mind.
Your hand speeds up, though you don’t let yourself surpass the frenetic jerks
of their hips meeting together, seeping red and teal genetic material or
whatever the fuck they call it into each other.  Terezi grabs Karkat’s hand and
he wraps a lock of her hair around his fist and pulls; she digs her teeth into
a buckling bump of skin over his ribcage and he jerks her skull harder.  Snarls
roll in their chests--they growl, one long, harmonizing sound, then Karkat
drops his hold on her hair and pushes his hand between them, wrapping around
their entwined bulges and pumping quick and hard.
Terezi laughs.  Terezi cackles and gasps and chokes on the sound and it’s
beautiful, beautiful enough to make you moan as you stroke yourself as roughly
as you imagine Karkat is.  Their heads snap toward your direction, and you look
into both of their faces.  “Don’t fucking stop, you stupid assholes.”
“Like--”  Karkat gasps, accidentally jarring his elbow into his own knee but
not slowing, not caring, “Like we’d fu-- fucking stop for you-- You nook-
guzzling piece of shiahhhhhhh, oh, Terezi, fuck--”  She might be chewing on his
nipple for all it looks like, her teeth digging mercilessly into his chest for
a long, unbearable second--it even hurts you towatch--but then there’s her
tongue, her lips, sucking and licking between the dips and swells of his chest
with brutal determination.  Karkat’s feet are no longer on the floor as Terezi
bends over him, fucking his cunt with hers, their cocks writhing together,
squished between their stomachs.
They’ve slid a foot and a half away from their original space, and in their
wake you can see a muddled swirl of smeared teal and red fluid in drops on the
floor.
Fuck.
You’re going to fuck them after this, first one and then the other, after
you’ve licked the cum from their wet thighs while they squirm, sensitive and
high off the happy o-hormones.  And then you’re going to let them fuck you,
however they agree is best, because being tag teamed is awesome and filthy and
Bro didn’t raise you to be a whiny piece of sexually vanilla dogshit.
Karkat is moaning like a virgin in a porno, carding his fingers through
Terezi’s wavy, tangled hair, clenching and unclenching his fists.  A couple
times his knuckles run into her horns, making her jerk, but he doesn't seem to
mind.  She’s facedown against his chest, whimpering a wobbly stacatto, quiet,
frustrated, so-close, almost-there grunts.  The tendons of her hand all stand
out as she tightens her fingers around the underside of one knobby knee,
pushing it back until it’s almost level with his shoulder.  You can see more
now, see their swollen nooks sliding together, and you lose it, you fucking
lose it, just fourteen seconds before Karkat’s spine twists and Terezi slides
her forearm under the small of his back and uses the leverage to hold him
close, get a few good thrusts in before he makes an aborted groan and tenses
beneath her.
You don’t get to see the gush of red that spills from him, but you see the
aftermath, shining and dripping between the locked joint of their legs.
Comparatively, the jizz spattering your stomach looks almost boring.
It feels like you’re dying from asphyxiation, like moving is a dead-limbed
impossibility, but you lick your lips and murmur anyway, talking at her as she
shuts herself out from everything else but the moment, the red-hot needles you
know are prickling under her skin.  “Yeah, c’mon Rez, TZ, babe.  You’re so
close,” you hum, eyes unfocusing but still trained on whatever of her you can
see.  “So close, just let go, yeah?  You can do it, Teez; Jegus dick, you’re so
fucking hot, do you know that?  Hot isn’t even close enough--you’re fucking on
fire, burning up the universe, damning us to eternal fucking bullshit because
you're too hot for this godfucking meteor to keep hurling through space, we're
gonna--”  Terezi lets out a loud, broken wail and her limbs go taut, shaking
hard.  Karkat rumbles quietly and strokes a hand down her sweat-soaked hair,
down the bumps and dips of her spine.  She lets out a ragged pant; you watch
Karkat dig his fingertips into the muscles between her ribs until she collapses
against him, gasping and breathing out soft, muffled whimpers into his skin.
 You drop your head against the arm of the couch, not remembering when you
lifted it up to get a better look at them, and heave a sigh.
“Holy fuck,” you say.
“Yeah,” mumbles Karkat.
“Mmph,” says Terezi, still facedown against Karkat.
For a long time, you don’t say anything at all, not one of you.  The room cools
of heat and sweat and you mellow in the soft sound of the three of you
breathing, coming down from the high, descending into puddles of warmth and
multicoloured jizz.  It’s calm--for just this second, the three of you aren’t
as chaotic as usual.  And then your lip quirks, and you twist your head to look
at them.  “So--
“Who wants to come over here and sit on my face?”
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