You have to hold back the urge to scream as you clench your hands into fists, nails biting in to your palms. Fuck.
Your head cracks against the wall and you sigh, starting to bite all your nails off with your teeth. Sure, having no nails means you won’t be able to fuck Karkat up as much, but at least you can’t fuck yourself up clawing your own goddamned skin off, peeling off layers like a fucking onion until you’re red and raw and bleeding, which would just make things that little buy more terrible.
Not like you can’t just get Karkat to do it for you. He probably would, the fucking asshole.
Not like you deserve any better, apparently, because the timelines have apparently decided it'd be just great for you to get stuck on this goddamn meteor for twice the time you should’ve been, with just bullshit hallucinations and bullshit Karkat and bullshit clowns and bullshit drunk Rose-
Everything is fucking terrible. You’re going to go see Karkat. At least his spectacular anal fissure of a face is annoying enough to distract you from the way Bro’s laughs seem to echo down the corridor and you know, you know he’s dead, you know he’s gone but.
But all you’ve ever done is take after Bro, and you have died more times than there have been Fast and Furious movies, so what the hell is there to say he can’t do the same?
You need to go find Karkat.
You could really do with being punched in the face right about now.
Karkat takes one look at your face before dropping his bullshit vapid romance novel and shoving you into the wall, his nails, which are more like fucking claws, tearing into your shirt. If you didn’t hate his fucking guts so much, it’d be comforting how he is always down to give you what you need, especially if that’s violence and hatefucking.
You snarl at him, and he snarls back.
Cool. You can already feel yourself snapping back into the present moment, so you decide to push it a little and kick his legs out from underneath him. Sure, he was probably expecting it, the insufferable little douchenugget, but he collapses onto you like a sack of bricks that have been getting it on with a bunch of lead.
And of course he has a fucking ulterior motive, because he’s fucking Karkat, but you still suck in a breath when he digs his teeth into your exposed neck, your hands flying up to knot in his hair, pulling hard, and he won’t fucking give in and you hate him, really fucking hate him. You hate him so much that you switch to choking him so that you don’t end up actually pulling his hair out, which would just be actually uncool. Fitting, sure, since Karkat is the opposite of cool, but that doesn’t mean you have to sink to his level, and besides, you have no real desire to go trawling through the gutters.
He finally stops chomping on your neck because he can’t breathe, and his mouth tastes like blood when he kisses you, and you wince, your eyes snapping shut, before kissing him back just as furiously.
“Ah, shit, hang on-” Karkat pulls away, shoving you back with a hand right in the middle of your chest before rummaging in his pocket, pulling out one of the strips of fabric you’ve been using as blindfolds for… fuck, years? Damn, you’ve been doing this for a while. Back then you would’ve said that nothing could’ve fucked you up more than you already were, but hey, turns out blood coloured jizz all fucking over you will do the trick.
Karkat tosses your sunglasses away, and you captchalouge them in midair as he ties the blindfold around your eyes.
“Better, you fucking dipshit?” Karkat hisses, and you slap him across the face, which is enough for him, cause he goes for your neck again, tugging your head up, and oh fuck no, he is not stealing the show that damned easily.
You punch him in the gut, and it makes a really fucking satisfying thwack, and he grabs at the hair at the back of your neck and drags you down with him, his nails digging in and his knees coming up to knock the breath out of you as you both hit the floor.
His shirt is in tatters in a few seconds, so it turns out your teeth make up for your lack of nails just fucking fine. Karkat tries to get yours off too, but you’re too busy clawing up his chest as well as you can (which is not fucking well enough, but fuck it, fuck everything) so you’re anything but helpful. Still, he mangaes to knock your hands away and tug your shirt off, biting down on your shoulder and shit, that feels good, so good, in fact, that you don’t realise he’s taking your pants off too before it’s too late and you don’t really want to be all that uncooperative anymore.
The opportunity presents itself to shuffle forwards and pin his chest by sitting on it, which, judging by the rustling, lets Karkat take his own pants off too. That means not only that this shit is on, it’s totally time you should put your dick in Karkat’s mouth, which is what you do.
His teeth are threateningly sharp, even if you’re mostly sure that he wouldn’t dare hurt your dick, and you let out a whine, letting him think he’s winning before you slap him across the face and rock a little deeper into his mouth, no deeper than you know he can take, because you’re not actually a terrible person, no matter how much you hate him.
You’re glad you can’t see his fucked up face around your dick, because while it’s nice, the few times you have seen it, the way that he ends up drooling and glaring at you, it’s fucking distracting as all hell. And not in the kind of way that you’re here for right now.
He’s hissing something around your cock, and you ignore him, hooking your thumb into his mouth to garble his fucking pathetic attempts at words even more.
“Shut up and put your fingers in my ass.”
Karkat wriggles, and you catch his wrists and pin them quickly. You hate the awareness you have of everything around you, not to mention the way you developed it, but not in as nice a way as you hate Karkat. Hating Karkat is refreshing, like burning off dead skin or dunking yourself into a vat of acid to get a clear head. Unpleasant, but in a pleasant way.
He struggles, dragging you back out of your head, and you let his hands go, gripping his head instead and driving the movement of his mouth on your cock. His tongue is weird and alien as all hell, but the added dexterity and texture of it feels pretty sweet, so you don’t need to pay any attention to what he’s doing with his hands behind you.
Besides, you know from having done this plenty of times before that he’s probably playing with his bulge, gratuitous as fuck and probably deliberately dragging it out, because it wouldn’t be enough for him to just coat his hand with the weird alien jizz-lube it’s covered with, because it’s Karkat, and Karkat is a fucking asshole.
You let go of Karkat’s head, tracing your fingers around his horns briefly, before tipping yourself forwards slightly, bracing yourself on your hands. That means you can’t get your dick as far into Karkat’s mouth, but also that he has better access to your ass, which he promptly grabs, spreading your cheeks apart and digging his nails in, scratching down your legs and then again down your spine.
When he finally dips a finger inside you, you hiss and rock back on it, because even if you hate him and he’ll take any advantage he can get, you really loving stuff in your ass is something he’s never managed to weaponise. All the bullshit jokes he made in front of the others completely failed to phase you, because why the hell would they, and there was nothing better than how fucking furious he had been.
He works up to two fingers quickly, and you sigh, pressing a hand to Karkat’s throat and letting your dick slide out of his mouth. You bet he looks really fucking pretty right now, and you’re fucking furious. It's still not worth being able to see right now, though, because both of you are likely bloodstained and that just is not what you're here for, not at fucking all.
You slide down his body, scraping your teeth along his earlobe and hissing, “Don’t you fucking dare,” when his fingers threaten to slide out of you. Karkat’s breath audibly quickens, and you grin, teeth wide, the grin that Karkat hates the most. You’d throw in a wink too, if he could see your eyes enough for that to work.
Kissing him in a clash of teeth and tongues takes your breath away, and his too, so when he follows with slipping his fingers- huh, he’d gotten to three without you really noticing- out of you, you press down on his throat, stopping him from catching his breath. You bite his neck too, for good measure, and then decide that that was a great idea and keep biting him, leaving a trail of what will hopefully turn into very visible marks down his neck and shoulder.
The tip of his bulge teases up against you, and even though you know he hasn’t got much control over it, you still hiss “Tease me any more and I will fucking flay you.” into his ear.
“Oh yeah, with those nails?” Karkat chuckles, his voice irritatingly rough and scratchy, and you fucking despise him, especially when he chooses that moment to grab your hips and tug you down enough that his bulge can slip inside you.
That makes you bite down harder than you had been on the join of his neck and shoulder, and fuck it, he totally fucking deserves it. He does punch you in the face though, not full force, but still solid and painful.
The stinging in your face just makes his bulge feel even better inside you, the stretch raw and just how you like it, so you lean up and bite down on his lip, waiting until you can feel the added wetness of his blood in the kiss before letting go and pushing yourself back and up, his bulge working even deeper inside you as you sit up.
That lets you tug on his hair and begin to rock against him, his nails biting deep into your hips as he tries to control your rhythm. Instead of giving in, you punch him, solidly hitting the meaty part of his arm, chuckling darkly when you hear him hiss and feel his nails dig in even harder.
He’s practically fucking gouging your skin out, and you love it.
That, combined with the way his bulge is moving inside you is setting your blood on fucking fire, boiling it like the lava on LOHAC, and fuck, that is not a good train of thought, so you pull Karkat’s head up and kiss him, which helps. You can feel his fury in the way he kisses you, so you rock your hips slower, until your legs are shaking.
You finally give in, growling into Karkat’s mouth as your hand leaps to your cock, only to collide with Karkat’s own hand, because of course the fucker beat you to it, and suddenly all it takes is Karkat muttering “Fuck, I hate you so much,” against your lips before you’re coming, legs shaking as you unbalance onto Karkat’s chest from the force of it.
“Okay, fuck no,” Karkat hisses after a moment, and tips you over, shoving your face into the floor and pulling your ass back up into the air before working his bulge back into you. You can’t help but whine, which makes him hook two fingers into your mouth, so you suck on them, biting down when he starts to move inside you.
“You fucking asshole, Dave Strider, you are the fucking worst.” Karkat curls around you, his voice close in your ear, his chest sticky against your back. You’re a little oversensitive, each tiny thrust from Karkat sending sharp tingles up your spine and making you shudder. It’s exactly what you’ve been needing, fuck.
Your arms ache where the shit on Karkat’s floor is digging in to them, and every couple of thrusts your cock brushes against the floor and you can’t help but flinch, and he’s panting and snarling in your ear, and damn. All you want to do is lie compliant and drift off into the mix of pleasantness and irritation, and fuck it, as much as you hate Karkat for bringing you down like this, you can’t help but rock back mindlessly against his writhing bulge and gasp from the way your body tingles.
His arm disappears from your mouth and you hear the little hitch of breath that means he’s worked his fingers into his nook, and normally you’d do that for him, because you are the best at Karkat’s nook, but you are too stuck in the sensations of the moment to do anything other than lie there and squirm when Karkat bites down hard on your shoulder, gasping his bullshit pretty little noises that you hate but really enjoy hearing.
Karkat collapses on top of you with a huff, and you hiss and flail around until you manage to smack the top of his head. “Fuck you, Karkat.”
You can’t really breathe, and your ass and thighs are dripping and sticky, but dammit, you’re content and not having flashbacks of any sort, even though you’re vulnerable as hell and even though you know you’re covered in red, even if you can’t see it.
You had laughed at the idea of kismesitude when Karkat first shout-explained it to you, and the next time, and the next, but man, it really just does it for you, even as a temporary stopgap in the waves of fucked-up that are your life these days. You hate Karkat so much, and are so damn glad to have him.