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A Sticky Situation

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His jeans and underwear were down around his knees before Karkat was able to stop flailing long enough to re-capture Sollux’s wrists. The action earned him a low whine of protest, and Karkat had to bite back a surprised noise of his own. He’d never heard anyone sound like that, and it was doing things to his bulge. He could feeling it coiling and writhing in anticipation.

“What the hell, KK, I thought—”

“I’m capable of taking my own pants off, thanks,” Karkat cut him off with a grunt as he sat back, struggling to kick free and wincing at the feel of the cold metal floor against his bare ass. After what seemed like an eternity, his jeans and shoes were finally shoved aside.

Abruptly he found himself flat on his back. He blinked in confusion as Sollux leered down at him, a triumphant grin stretching from ear to ear across his flushed face. “Fucking finally. God, I’m gonna pail you tho hard—”

Oh HELL no.

A quick twist and a quiet “oof!”, and now it was Karkat’s turn to grin down at a slightly stunned-looking Sollux. It was laughably easy; Sollux may have been a badass with his psionics, but physically he was like a wriggler fresh from the caverns. “Who’s the leader on this god-forsaken ball of rock again? Oh yeah, that’s right. I’m topping, shitstain.”

Sollux briefly looked as if he might protest, but then he thought better of it. Instead, he wrapped his legs around Karkat’s waist and pulled him down until their hips met.

Sensation exploded through Karkat’s body and tore a gasp from his throat. Beneath him, Sollux let out an answering moan, reaching up to snake his arms around Karkat’s neck. Already slick with genetic material, their bulges coiled reflexively around each other on contact.

Instinctively, Karkat rolled his hips forward, once, twice, and…oh. Oh. Sollux eagerly rose up to meet him.

It wasn’t like Karkat had never touched himself before—he was a teenage boy, it was a pretty regular occurrence—but it had never, never felt like this. Somehow his fantasies had always been…cleaner, less personal and more controlled. This—this was a messy, desperate grinding of bulge against bulge, mouths open and panting, fingers scrabbling for purchase.

And the noises Sollux was making. Strangled cries, frantic whimpers, breathy gasps…every sound sent another pulse of heat to Karkat’s groin as their hips snapped together with rhythmless urgency.

Why had they never done this before? This was pretty much the best thing ever. As usual, his past self was a moron for playing quadrant cluckbeast for so long.

As if it had a mind of its own, Karkat’s hand reached out to stroke along the sweat-slicked planes of Sollux’s body, mapping out the bump of every rib (he was so skinny, even fragile-looking, as if a careless motion could snap him in two) and sliding down to grip a jutting hipbone. Wait, when had they taken their shirts off? Fuck it, who cares. He realized suddenly that Sollux’s mindless babbling had become a steady chant.

“KK…KK…Karkat…oh god, oh god, oh god…”

“Oh fuck, Sollux…” Karkat shifted slightly, changing the angle, and was rewarded with a new burst of pleasure and a wail from beneath him. Then, suddenly, impossibly, bony hands were on his chest and…pushing him away?

“Wha…?” Karkat sat up, dazed and bewildered. “Sollux, what are you…”

Sollux surged up off the floor and wound his arms tightly around Karkat’s neck again. “Your bulge. My nook. Now.”

Somehow there was enough blood left in Karkat’s body to rush to his face. Shit. They were really doing this. Bumping bulges was one thing, but…this was matesprit stuff. He gave himself a mental smack. Karkat, now is not the time to worry about that! “So…you’re ready?”

Sollux groaned and dropped his head to Karkat’s shoulder. “For fuck’th thake, I’ve BEEN ready thith whole fucking time.”

As if to provide confirmation, Karkat felt his bulge coil lower and flicker along a slick, swollen slit. Sollux keened, spreading his legs and digging his fingers into Karkat’s back and holy shit, Karkat needed to be inside him right now

He pushed Sollux back down, and there was a brief moment of awkwardness and flailing limbs before Sollux hooked his legs over Karkat’s shoulders. They locked eyes briefly—Sollux’s glasses having long ago gone the way of their shirts—and then Karkat was bracing himself against the knife blades Sollux called hipbones and pushing forward.

It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to immediately slam himself in to the hilt, especially with Sollux writhing and whining impatiently beneath him, but he gritted his teeth and took it slow. He’d seen enough blackrom porn to know how painful that would be for the troll on the receiving end. For all they bickered and fought, Karkat was not black for Sollux, and the thought of hurting him was repulsive.

By the time Karkat could push no further, he was crazy with the need to start thrusting into tight, wet heat surrounding him. He hadn’t thought anything could top the earlier sensations, but this blew them out of the water. Streams of genetic material, candy red and mustard yellow, mingled as they ran down their thighs.

Sollux arched his back up off the floor. “Pleathe, pleathe…nnnhhh, ah, aaahhhh!”

“God, Sollux, you feel…this is…” Karkat babbled incoherently, hanging onto those sharp hipbones for dear life as they rolled up to meet his. The sound of his bulge as it slid in and out of Sollux’s nook was obscene.

They wouldn’t last long at this rate. Already, Karkat could feel the genetic material building up, and if Sollux’s increasingly frantic pace was anything to go by, he was feeling the same pressure. Soon they’d need to get into pailing position…

Pail…

…Fuck.