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You haven’t felt this relaxed in a very very long time. Actually, when you think about it, you aren’t sure if you ever felt this relaxed. It’s as if all the anger, hate, hell, even all your beloved curses have fallen all out of your brain.
You fucking hate it.
“…so…” Dave says, next to you, basically directly into your fucking ear. He’s…well, he sounds awkward, and shy, maybe embarrassed? Urgh, not at all relaxed, and that is the only damn thing this is supposed to do, isn’t it? And just the still glowing feeling in your stomach prevents you from helplessly second guessing yourself.
“Hehe, yeah…I guess we just did that…”
You trail off, just like he did before. Maybe he will just understand, what you want to say. Or, don’t want to say. Because you’re pretty sure your brain is so mushy and soft right now, that even the Troll Mad Hatter would make more sense than you right now.
Damn, he really did a number on you, didn’t he?
Dave stares at you from the side. A bit contemplating, maybe even vulnerable, but most of all reluctant. His hand twitches slightly, as if he wants to reach out to you, but isn’t sure he is allowed to.
And you kind of want to scream at him that yeah, of fucking course he is fucking allowed to, please, you very much want to cuddle with him right now, but everything that reaches your lips is a droopy little smile.
And hell fucking yes, he smiles right back. Still a bit reluctant, but a lot warmer, and so, so fond. Dave’s eyes crinkle slightly. His lashes are so fine and light, that you can only see them from very, very close. And you have. Barely ten minutes ago.
A shades free Strider is nothing that happens every day, but he took them off. Just for you. Oh, and how beautiful his eyes are. You didn’t believe you could find red eyes beautiful, it’s too much of a loaded subject, but he just makes you feel like it’s actually ok that your eyes will have the same color eventually.
You want to kiss him. You try your best not to remember how it felt, but it’s a lost cause.
How could you ever forget? Slightly chapped against your own lips, but so soft, and pliable. It was more sensation than you ever felt before. A wet, raspy tongue, sliding over the seam of your lips, his breath against your cheek, and teeth, just barely grazing your lower lip.
You whimper. You hate yourself for it, but you do. It’s a real ass full blown whimper, because you can still feel it.
Your body must hate you, to torture you with so sweet aftershocks of sensation. Your tongue still tingles, can still remember the feel of the inside of his mouth.
The wet, warm sensation of everything Dave on your lips is so strong, it forces you to touch and trace them.
He did that. He made you feel like that. He, the God in Pajamas that are way too cozy and keep calling you to snuggle into them and Dave’s warm body. And he’s still next to you.
Fucks sake, if the glowy feeling that spreads like tendrils in your guts wouldn’t keep you so perfectly fucking balanced in the heavenly sphere of just. Fucking. Right, you would all but swoon right now.
And there it is again, the damn grin. Because your lips just know what they did. And Dave does too.
“You look happy, and didn’t really vomited all of your dictionary of vulgarities at me. Did you…” he glances over your body, and back to your face, “…like it?”
His voice raises at the end, as if he is actually insecure about it.
Dave-Shitmouth-Strider – insecure. And, if you hadn’t just fucked each other’s brains out, and maybe even discovered each other’s emotions and vulnerabilities more thoroughly than in every quadrant defying pale session before, you wouldn’t believe it.
But you did. Oh, you so did. And so you take a deep breath, turn your whole body to him, and say as evenly as possible
“Dave, I can still feel you on my lips. And I honestly maybe don’t ever want that to end.”
Dave’s face goes red. It’s long since you learned that he blushes rather quickly. Something about his light complexion? He still manages to be completely stoic, despite his constantly rosy cheeks.
But this is a new kind of red. This is the red you met when you first kissed him today. When you pulled his shirt over his head, and discovered, that the red dusted not just his face, but his shoulders and neck too.
When you touched each other, every inch of your bodies, discovering which places exactly made you moan together. The red, that damn near matches the color you drenched him in, when you couldn’t hold back anymore, because it was just too good, he was just too good, so good and — there, you whimpered again.
“I can still taste you,” he states, and has the audacity to lick his lips.
Not enough that he had to do that, with his lovely not sharp teeth, something you only read about in the novels that were really, really inappropriate for your age, no, he took the time to clean you meticulously afterwards, and you can’t really think about the implications of that without risking coming again.
Dave sees right through you. He grins way too smugly, but just sweet enough to be sincere, cocks his head ever so slightly and whispers “And it’s fucking delicious.”
You can’t take it anymore. He needs to shut up right this second because the infinite relaxation in your lower stomach begins to coil again. So you do the thing that you know will silence him – you kiss him.
He makes a short surprised noise, then puts his arm around your waist and pulls you in. Like this you can feel his heartbeat in your chest. It’s so strong, so powerful, yet even, and it makes your own miss a beat.
This is Dave. And there is no other person on this damn meteor, hell, in all of the various universes you know about, that ever made you feel this fucking safe. And cherished. And loved.
Loved? Well it sure feels that way, you decide. And you kind of really want him to actually love you, but with the way his heart beats against yours, and his tongue moves on yours, you almost have no doubt.
You are vaguely aware that right now, what you can taste on Dave’s lips, is yourself. It feels weird to think about that.
That part of you is red – mutant, just like your blood – and nothing most trolls would ever take into their mouths. It belongs in the filial pails and the filial pails only. Why waste it on kinky sex.
But Dave doesn’t mind it. Hell, he seems really into it actually. And if you’re being really honest with yourself, you are kind of too. On the other hand, you don’t think there could be anything right now that you wouldn’t be into, if Dave was the person doing it.
Fucks sake, you are so whipped.
Dave nips on your lower lip. His teeth feel so nice on your skin. It’s just the right amount of pressure and it stings ever so slightly, but there is no real danger. He can do that.
Somewhere in the back of your head you notice that you start purring and clicking. You started doing that around Dave some time ago, when you just couldn’t help but feel so damn comfortable in his presence.
How embarrassed you were back then. How embarrassed you where earlier today, before you realized that yes, Dave Strider does indeed have feelings for you, Karkat Vantas, and apparently, Dave Strider does also harbor a serious voice kink.
He told you that humans need some time before they are ready to go again, but you can feel him growing hard under you.
His kisses wander from your mouth over your chin to your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth.
Your ears, you discovered today, are way too sensitive for your own good.
“You wanna go again?” he asks, letting his hands wander down your sides to your grub scars.
And that, wow, that feels really good right now, but you also still feel mushy and happy and also weirdly vulnerable, but like in a good way, and you are about 99 percent sure he feels the same and you don’t want to waste this wonderful mood.
“Oh I really really do, but can we talk while we, you know?”
He laughs his trademark cool guy laugh. It sounds so cool, a bit rough, and so effortless.
“You just fingered me till I came all over myself, and you still cannot say fuck if you actually mean it? Hell, there is no word you use more often than fuck!”
You give him a small peck on the mouth. It’s all the answer he deserves.
“And talking? Do you ever do anything else?”
The blanket you are both wrapped in right now is nice and warm, but you want to see him, in all of his gorgeous glory, so you start to peel both of you out of it.
“You were talking all through round one, Karkat.”
You try to shush him, but he just keeps talking over you.
“When you didn’t scream for me to go faster, you wouldn’t stop berating me over troll anatomy, something I, clearly, could see right in front of me, no explanation needed.”
Oh you can just feel your cheeks going red.
“Dave, you nooksucker, just come on, touch me, but shut the hell up!”
“Nooksucker, you say, are you aware how much of a nooksucker I am now? I sucked your nook so well that you begged for my mouth and you still kept talking. I could shove my fucking forearm into your nook and let you use me as a premium bucket, and you wouldn’t stop talking.”
You kiss him violently. Everything to shut him up, this is getting way too embarrassing, but he just shoves you off. You land on your back on the soft bed, exposed, legs spread. Dave crawls over you and you can see the raw desire in his eyes.
“Not that I mind, really, ‘cause Karkat, let me tell you, your voice really gets me off, and not only seeing and feeling you lose focus and control under my tongue, but also hearing it? Damn that makes a boy shoot off way too hard.”
He comes nearer, grips your wrists, and pins you to the bed. Not particularly hard, you both know it’s just for show, but it does the trick. You feel so wonderfully wanted right now. Your breathing picks up.
“The way you stumble in your sentences when I hit it just right. Ever heard the way you whimper when I graze your bulge with my teeth? Because I sure did and let me tell you it’s everything apple juice could never give me. Your cute moans between words, when you are just so convinced how bad you need to tell me whatever. And the gasp when you finally lose your grip and can only moan my name when you come.”
“Dave…”
“You mean talking like that? Because I sure don’t mind any of that!”
Your bulge is way out of its sheath, now curling around nothing, searching for something, something to share its desperation with. Fuck, where is Dave’s human bulge when you need it.
“Tell me more,” you beg. “Tell me how I make you feel!”
Dave might be just the one person who enjoys talking more than you, so he complies instantaneously. He is after all nothing but a very considerate lover. Very considerate with making you feel good, and you live for it.
“How you make me feel? What, do you mean the fireworks you set off in my dick? The desire to fuck you into the mattress when you look at me like that? I have so many fantasies right now. I want to touch you. I will touch you. I will make you feel so good. I will make you come, so that you look at me again as if I am the only person that makes you feel safe enough to let yourself go like that.”
His hand wraps around your bulge. He doesn’t even move it, it’s just there, but so good. He is just there. He’s there for you and he always will be.
You gasp. “Dave fuck, you are, the only one!”
“I can see the way you enjoy being touched like this. And I know how much you trust me to do so. You make me want to trust myself. You make me want to believe that I am actually worth what you see in me.”
Dave takes your hand with his one that isn’t occupied with stroking your bulge right know, and puts it onto his back.
“Can you keep going with what you did earlier?”
You nod shortly. Of course you can. You want to give him back the pleasure he makes you feel, tenfold, thousand fold.
“If we keep talking,” you say.
“Just the dirty stuff, or about us?”
His ass is fantastic. Soft skin, but firm, lean muscle, and there are not a hell of a lot other things you like as much as just touching it. You pull him towards you, and with a bit of momentum, you roll you both over, so that you can straddle one of his thighs.
Not optimal friction for your bulge, but Dave seems to like it, and this way you can reach his hole better.
“About us, about this, maybe like…” you stop, contemplating your words. “Like the pale thing we do, but like, while fucking?”
He grins so smugly. “Pale porn gets a whole new definition there, doesn’t it?”
Your finger pushes into him. He’s still plenty wet from your admittedly very improvised and kinky lube – thank god trolls produce so much genetic material – and just a bit tighter than when you worked him open with your finger half an hour ago.
“No warning for a pillow princess here, huh?” Dave says between little gasps of air.
“I saw the way your bulge twitched at that, smartass. And you said I was the bottom boy.”
“Hey, I never said I wasn’t too. Also, norms of top and bottom are basically the new heteronormative ways of sorting people in the categories everyone already kno-aahh yeah, fuck, you just keep doing that right there!”
He twists under you like a piece of art. His thigh rubs against your bulge, letting it curl against it, and your finger vanishes completely in his hole. He’s so easy.
You curl your finger the way your bulge would really like to do inside of him right now.
“Talk, Dave, for once in your life it is appreciated.”
“Ok, ok, just keep going, yeah? I kind of really like you and, god, yeah, come on, another one, I can take it. And I literally feel only like two emotions since the moment you kissed me the first time today, horny and happy.”
Another finger seems like a good Idea. He is already so stretched, it’s amazing. He told you humans had to be careful with this, to not hurt themselves, but he made it sound like this annoying, difficult task, that you actually wanted to avoid but couldn’t.
This is everything but that. Dave is writhing under you. He’s moaning and damn near purring, even though humans can’t do that apparently, and he looks so pretty like this.
When you pull your finger down a bit, you can gape him open the tiniest bit. With one finger. Since apparently, Dave is so fucking relaxed, that he couldn’t do anything against it if he wanted to.
You take a second finger. It glides over his rim lightly, careful not to breach him too sudden. Dave showed you how to do it with one of his fingers, and that memory is one you will so get off to in the future.
You pull both fingers out, and push against him. His rim gives in so easily and you slide the tip of your fingers inside. Not quite up to the very first knuckle. There is still a bit of resistance, so you turn and curl your fingers ever so slightly, keeping them close together as to not hurt him.
And Dave loves it.
You’re pretty sure he still tries to tell you stuff, but it just comes out as a weird babble of sounds that doesn’t sound like either English or Alternian.
The second muscle gives in, and you slide your fingers in deeper. When you found his spot last time, he got so loud that you nearly couldn’t hear your own stream of words anymore. And that was awesome, but that isn’t what you want right now.
“Dave, what does this mean to you?” His bulge twitches, and the pearly white liquid oozes out the top.
“I want you so much, all the time, you make me so happy!” a rough voice, flowy, sharp movements, and those words. Fucking hell. This is absolutely the hottest thing you ever experienced.
“Are you flushed for me?” It’s probably not the most appropriate question for this moment, but nothing about your relationship is even remotely appropriate.
You are dimly aware, that talking about your relationship status isn’t exactly what other people would like as their dirty talk, but you are so over bad communication.
And honestly? There is nothing hotter than Dave telling you how much he loves you doing what you are doing right now, especially in the emotional sense.
Fucking good riddance that Alternia is gone. Consent Kink is probably the one thing that would have been too kinky for even the pitchest porn.
“I don’t know, I don’t know your quadrants, I just know that I want to be with you, for so long now, and I couldn’t say anything and it was just there. I want everything with you. And if that is flushed or pale or even hatedatey for you, I don’t care, I just want it!”
Your heart squeezes, and so does your hand, and Dave squeals.
That was a good answer. You should probably give him something nice for that.
So you scissor your hand and then press into that one point that makes him arch his back like you did, when he took your entire bulge into his wonderful mouth.
He angles his leg, perfect for more friction.
You take your other hand to touch your nook. For one second you marvel in the softness and wet slick of your own body. This feels fucking nice. Not just being touched by yourself, but also touching yourself. It’s a different kind of silky than Dave’s inside, but feels just as nice on your fingers.
“Do you feel something for, ahh, me?” Dave asks.
Oh that question. That question. How oblivious you both must have been, for literal sweeps.
“Dave,” you say with as much fondness as you can put into your voice.
You speed the hand in your nook up, letting your bulge rub freely against Dave’s leg. Your other hand pushes against Dave’s spot. Again and again and again, so much, often, again, just for Dave. Because Dave loves it. He tells you with all his body and his voice and you moan with him together.
“Dave, I love you so much!”
It’s not your own hand, or the feeling of Dave’s body, it isn’t even Dave’s earth shattering orgasm that makes you come.
It’s his smile. It’s his admission of just how happy your confession makes him. That it’s just the answer he wanted to have so bad, but also was already sure he would get.
It’s his fucking trust that makes you come, and that is so fucking cheesy, that you would love to see it quoted in one of your movies.
Your second orgasm today is different from the first one, but not less awesome.
It doesn’t feel like the novels described it. It isn’t a clear edge for you. It’s not a pinpoint moment, and it isn’t even all that long. It isn’t the total forced relaxation you were promised.
It’s different. It’s a sudden desperation. The sensation shifts from something that is damn good to something you want to feel in every second of every day. It’s the pull of muscles, it’s the sudden tolerance of your body, to take everything you serve to it.
There is nothing too much, there isn’t even not enough, there is only perfect.
You see flashes of fantasies, things you did, you want to do, or never want to do.
You see Dave. Dave in your Imagination and Dave before your eyes, looking so fucking perfect.
The feeling shifts smoothly into slightly too much, but still so good, and you ride it out till your bulge can’t take anymore, and your nook pulses the last few times.
You pull your fingers out of both you and Dave, wipe them off on the sheet, and watch Dave’s Face morph from the hot contortion it took while orgasming to the most pleased expression you have ever seen on him.
Fuck yeah, that is how someone looks who just got fucked real good. You did that to him. You and no other.
“You are so hot when you come,” Dave says in the same moment you say “You look so good right now,” and you absolutely adore the fact that the both of you blush.
“I’m also kinda scared of being so vulnerable with you, but I trust us to get this right.”
The honesty he shows you is so amazing that you nearly want to cry. Here he is, Dave Strider, telling you his fears, without even being asked. You love him so much.
“I love you so much, and I love that you trust me, and that I trust you. And I’m not even scared of us messing up, ‘cause I think we can do this. Talk I mean. Just, telling each other what we need to know. So I think it will be fine.”
He pulls you against his body. Finally the snuggling you deserve. It’s kind of pale, but that’s fine. Maybe this just doesn’t fit inside one quadrant.
“What is your afterglow like,” you ask.
“My afterglow?” he snickers “I have you, I have a bed and blanket, and a shower in the next room cause right now were really fucking gross, and I feel better than the time I found a AJ bottle in my closet. Well, maybe just as good.”
You would pap him in the face for that, but this is your second afterglow today and this one is honestly even better than the first one.
So you don’t. You just pet his hair. And maybe purr. And feel deep into your stomach, sense every one of the tendrils curling in your middle, relaxed muscles with just the right amount of pressure.
You kiss the corner of Dave’s mouth and he blushes the nice shade of red. Just right.