Archive of Our Own ^beta

I live near the
Slaughterhouse
And am ill
With thriving
-Bukowski

The air is ruthlessly heavy. The bedroom is tiny and crowded and with this heat squeezing them from all sides it's like every breath is one closer to suffocation. The single sheet is tangled at the foot of the bed and everywhere skin touches mattress is sweltering and damp. The window is open but it makes no fucking difference; it just lets in the deafening rattle-roar from the train tracks that never, ever wakes Karkat up but always, always makes Dave startle awake, eyes dry and staring.

Karkat has one cheek against Dave's bare chest and one arm thrown over his body. Their skin is sticky where it touches. Dave's eyes flick to the door and are fixed there for a moment; eventually he lets out a slow, resigned breath, bringing one hand up to tangle itself in the thick, dark mess of Karkat's hair.

He didn't have anywhere to go, anyway.

The light is too fucking bright when he wakes up again. The bed is empty; Dave gropes around on the bedside table for his phone.

Eleven o'clock. Too. Fucking. Early.

Dave groans and rolls over onto Karkat's side. The sudden temperature change is only a fraction of a degree below uncomfortable; it is amazing. It's too late, though. Sleep is gone, and it's not coming back.

Dave walks, stretching, out of the bedroom and does a double take. Karkat is in their cramped, stuffy kitchen, ass on the counter, one bare foot dangling and the other leg outstretched, the ball of his foot against the edge of the rangetop. The back door is open but there's no breeze to come in, only the gunning of engines and the occasional fly. Karkat's eating an unfrozen waffle speared on a fork and looking through the classifieds. He doesn't look up as Dave passes through to step out onto the stairs and smoke.

When Dave comes back in, nudging Karkat's knees apart and insinuating himself between them, Karkat frowns, his eyes narrowing.

"I fucking thought you stopped smoking."

"I fucking thought you were at work," Dave counters, leaning in, fixing Karkat with a stare. Karkat huffs and looks away. "Isn't that something you usually do at this time of the day? Charm people with your winning personality and get them to part with heaps of their own personal hard-earned cash? What happened to that?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Karkat takes a bite of waffle, glaring at the counter.

"Wow. That's a first." Karkat's narrowed eyes flick back up to his for a second, and Dave slides a hands up Karkat's thigh, teasing the hot skin just under the hem of his boxers. "Shit. Well. Since you're here, I'm gonna shower, sunshine, wanna come?"

Karkat meets his eyes again, glares into them, sinks his teeth slowly into the waffle and tears a piece free with a toss of his head. "Sure, why not," he answers with his mouth full. He swallows, letting the fork-with-waffle clink back onto its saucer, and Dave curls an arm around his waist. He pulls one black tank-top shoulder down over Karkat's arm, pressing a deep, sucking kiss to the top of his chest. Karkat groans and arches, one leg going around Dave's waist, the newspaper dropping to the linoleum and sliding halfway under the stove.

They turn the shower on a little cooler than lukewarm and fuck does that feel good. The thermometer is almost at 90 and the cool air the single window unit in the living room blasts out always seems to falter and die before it can even reach the couch. Not that they can afford to turn it on, anyway.

Karkat's eyes are hooded as Dave drops to his knees on the stained tile. He splays his hands on Karkat's hips, humming in pleasure at the familiar sight of his fingers, creamy pale against the dark caramel of Karkat's skin. Karkat starts to card his fingers through Dave's wet hair, and lets out a deep moan as Dave licks his cock from base to tip, letting the head slip past his lips and slide over his tongue, heavy and hot.

Oh, yeah. Dave grabs Karkat's ass, sucking him deeper, and Karkat makes a strangled sound, chest heaving, his hands in Dave's hair now tugging and yanking in the best way imaginable. God, this boy.

It had been like a flicked lightswitch in a dark house when Dave had first seen him: perpetual frown, dark circles under his eyes like he'd never met sleep, sweet ass perched on a barstool at the main club Dave DJs for. He was flipping someone off with one hand, and with the other he was swigging a beer. Dave bought him another. Karkat was bisexual, a beer snob, and used pretty much the filthiest language Dave had ever heard come out of a mouth. They'd fucked all night. Later on, Dave would discover that Karkat was also jealous as shit, argumentative as fuck, and virtually unemployable for more than a couple of months, but it was too late. Dave had already had too much of that hot skin under his hands, too much of those eyes on him, smoky dark and defiant and full of far too much want for him to give a fuck.

Oh, god, the sounds he makes...a desperate whine as Dave works his tongue around the tip of his cock, a low moan when Dave brings one hand around to squeeze the base of it, a higher, more urgent "aah" when Dave starts to bob his head. When Dave swallows around him Karkat lets out one last gratified cry, arching against the tile, hands shaking, nails digging into the back of Dave's neck.

"Jesus fuck, you are gorgeous as hell with a dick in your mouth," Karkat says, running a thumb along Dave's swollen bottom lip, and his eyes drag over Dave's body, finally fixing on his cock. Dave is panting, completely hard already, and Karkat pulls him up and pushes him against the shower wall. "I'll take care of you," he continues, on tiptoes, breath hot against Dave's ear, tugging at each of Dave's nipple piercings in turn. "I'm going to fuck you with my fingers until you're begging me to pound you into the mattress." Dave lets his head fall back against the tile, cheeks flaming, pleasure pooling hot and urgent in his groin. Karkat steps back, eyes half-lidded, and Dave is sure nothing has ever been as fundamentally sexual as those eyes. "But finish your shower first," Karkat orders.

Dave shampoos and rinses his hair as fast as he can; being told to wait is setting his nerves on fire. He starts to soap up his body, but when his hands stray down too far over his stomach Karkat takes the bar of soap from him, slicking up his hands before wrapping them around Dave's aching erection, squeezing him far, far too slow. Dave moans, hands weakly curling behind Karkat's back and Karkat grabs his hips, pulling Dave against him, humming in pleasure when Dave's cock slides against his stomach. Dave's eyes slip shut as slick fingers slip down the cleft of his ass, rubbing and teasing.

"Rinse yourself off, come on." Karkat smirks, stepping back and leaning against the shower wall, arms crossed. Dave rushes to do so, groaning at how icy the water feels against his overheated skin.

They don't even towel off; the water feels too good. They stumble into the bedroom, kissing furiously, and Karkat shoves Dave to the mattress face first and starts rooting through the drawer on the bedside table, finally lobbing a condom at him. Dave rises to his knees and rolls on the condom, hissing at the pressure, shuddering in pleasure as Karkat's dark eyes rake over him. He pants as he lies face down on the mattress, a pillow shoved under his hips.

The bed has completely heated up underneath him, now, and Dave can't tell if the dampness on his skin is still water or sweat. The bed dips as Karkat kneels between his legs, hands sliding up his thighs to knead at his ass, spreading him wide. "Oh, yeah," Karkat says, almost reverently, and the first slick touch of Karkat's fingers is startlingly cold, but oh, god...Karkat is such a tease, circling his asshole with one fingertip, only pushing inside just enough to make Dave keen and shake.

"What do you want?" Karkat purrs, tracing a slow, maddening spiral. "Tell me."

Dave whines, the words tumbling over each other to get out of his mouth. "Goddamn it, just, fuck me already, you...you asshole..." Karkat doesn't do what he wants at all; all Karkat does is start fingering him slowly until Dave is a trembling wreck. "Please..."

"Please what?" Dave can hear the smug satisfaction in Karkat's voice, and his chest is suddenly full to bursting with that strange feeling that Karkat causes in him -- part irritation, part grudging admiration, part crazy, desperate infatuation. Karkat pulls his fingers out, and Dave is left feeling so raw and red and exposed...Dave hears Karkat ripping open his own condom; heat rushes over him, so immediate and consuming that he lets out a desperate whimper, hands fisting in the sheet.

"Please, fuck me, oh god, I want, I need you to fuck me so hard that...ohhh fuck..." Karkat is nudging up behind him, now, holding onto his hips, thrusting into him, slowly, slowly...Dave is gasping, open mouthed, trying desperately to stay still.

It becomes almost an altered consciousness of rhythm and heat: the slow thrust of Karkat's hips, the nails digging into his thighs, the pillow pressed against his cock not giving nearly enough of the right kind of friction but it is amazing, Karkat is amazing, and Dave aims a hot, half-lidded glance at Karkat over his shoulder. Their eyes lock and such an intense jolt of pleasure shoots through him that it's all Dave can do to breathe.

Karkat's pulling out of him, now, tugging at his hip and rolling him over, and Dave eagerly hooks his knees over Karkat's shoulders, panting and trembling. Karkat thrusts into him again, hard, over and over, and oh, oh, yes, this angle is so...good...Karkat has the sexiest little half-grin, all hooded eyes and canine teeth, and even though they're not even done Dave wants him all over again.

Dave writhes, grasping deliriously at the sheets; he's so close...He slides a hand down over his stomach to palm his own erection, letting out a high, desperate whine. "Oh, god, yes," Karkat manages to get out, falling forward, hands against the mattress. Their eyes lock, and Dave lets his head fall back, bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

When they're finished, shaky and euphoric, condoms knotted and dropped in the trashcan next to the bed, Karkat sprawls over Dave and takes his face in both hands, pulling him into a sloppy, artless kiss. Dave winds his arms tightly around those narrow shoulders and they kiss for a long time, open-mouthed and needy and intense, until Karkat's kisses slow and he nods off.

It's probably afternoon, now; through the window Dave can see the sun beating down on the wall of the factory across the street. The heat is coming off the brick in waves. It makes Dave think of mirages, which make him think of cool, sparkling oasis water, and he swallows with difficulty. He's thirsty as fuck. Goddamn it.

His phone buzzes on the bedside table; he carefully disengages one arm from Karkat's back and reaches for it.

hey! do you want to hang out later? this is your night off, right? there's a midnight showing of the room and dave you have to come with me this time! i'm serious!

Dave's mouth twists a little. He's been with John once before to see that movie and somehow he still isn't a hundred percent sure whether John was actually aware that everyone was there to make fun of it or not. John seems to appreciate the community spirit of the thing, anyway.

john you know theres nothing i would love more than getting an eyeful of tommy wiseaus naked ass and getting pelted in the back of the head by spoons
but im kinda strapped for cash right now, dude

don't worry! i'll cover your ticket! actually i already bought them, haha...come on, dave, pleeeeease?

"You're texting motherfucking Egbert right now, aren't you?" Dave never really believed in auras and shit, but maybe there was something to be said about all that crap because Karkat definitely exudes some weird kind of emotional pressure. It's like waves of static rolling off him, prickly and imminent.

"So what? He texted me, I'm texting him back."

"Now?" Karkat's tone is dangerous, but Dave doesn't give a shit.

"You were asleep, dude. What the fuck else was I supposed to do? Stare at your sleeping face like a lovesick princess? Oh, for the love of fuck..." Karkat is shoving himself up off the bed, his expression furious. "You are such a little bitch, jesus christ..." Karkat's yanking open dresser drawers, pulling out clothes, and before Dave can get another word out he's slamming the bedroom door behind him. A few minutes later Dave can hear the shower running again. Well. At least water is included in the rent.

yeah, sure, are you gonna pick me up too
make it a real date

yeah! i'll be there at eleven!

cool

The front door slams. Dave rolls his eyes.

Dave spends the rest of the afternoon in silence, sprawled out on the couch in shorts, a quickly warming coke within reach on the floor. He aimlessly fucks around on the x-box; the volume on the TV had been left all the way down but Dave doesn't get up to fix it. Sunlight pierces through the open window, dust motes illuminated in the beam, drifting down, slow as molasses. A fat black fly is buzzing against the dingy overhead light. Karkat doesn't come back.

Daylight fades and becomes evening, and the heat slowly starts to die down. Dave lets out a breath, listlessly unsticking himself from the couch to go smoke a cigarette out the bedroom window. There's a breeze, now, and Dave closes his eyes as it plays over his shoulders. The street below is empty, but he watches it anyway.

Dinner is ham on white bread and a can of off-brand soup. He eats on the couch after flipping the TV over to a grainy local access station and texts where the fuck are you to Karkat, not expecting a response.

me and john are going to a movie
ill be out late
dont wait up

John knocks at the back door at eleven, as expected, and Dave pulls a t-shirt over his head, pushes his shades onto his nose, and goes to open it.

"Hey! Come on, it's gonna be packed!" John is bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. "Where's Karkat?" he asks, eyes darting around the dark apartment before Dave can shut the door.

"He flounced off this morning and hasn't come back yet," Dave answers after they jog down the stairs, unable to keep a little bitterness out of his voice.

"Dave!" John pauses in unlocking his door and stares at Dave over the roof of the car, his mouth a worried little twist.

"He'll come back, don't worry. And yeah, yeah, I fuckin' know, we're a huge goddamn disaster. But it's cool. I'm the motherfuckin' appointed official in charge of FEMA, over here. I'm deploying troops, setting up tents, handing out blankets and fuckin' thermoses of soup. Everything's under control."

"I don't know, Dave..." John gets in the car and unlocks Dave's door from the inside, the whole time giving him that wibbly look and it's starting to piss Dave off. John sighs as Dave fastens his seatbelt. "I'm just worried about you, I mean, not just about today..."

Dave stares over his glasses at the sick, yellow, light-polluted sky as John starts the car and backs out onto the street. "What, have you been talking to Rose? I know what I'm doing."

John puts the car in drive and doesn't bring it up again.

Later Dave fumbles with the front door key, still a little fuzzy and blissed out from the joint he and John had lit up in John's car before the show. Karkat is sitting on the couch, arms wrapped around his knees, toes curling against the ripped vinyl of the cushion. He's watching a movie with the most intense expression, eyebrows drawn, his mouth in a little frown. He doesn't look up when Dave passes through into the kitchen, grabs a coke, and leans against the doorframe.

Dave pushes his shades up on top of his head and gestures at the TV with his can. "Please tell me that's not 'Simply Irresistible.' Please."

Karkat's eyes flick up to him for a moment, then back to the movie. "So what if it is?"

Dave doesn't reply, just stands there, sipping his coke. After a few minutes, he rolls his eyes, and the whole situation seems so absurd that he can't help but grin. "So..."

"Fuck." Karkat kicks his feet out and slumps against the back of the couch. His expression hasn't changed. They lock eyes, but Karkat is the first to look away. "I overreacted, ok?"

"Well duh."

Karkat bristles. "I'm trying to apologize, you fucking douche! I've been wandering around all day developing a fucking ulcer over my past self having been a whiny, jealous little cunt, and you just want to use any opportunity to turn all of it into a fucking joke. It's not motherfucking easy to live with your flippant, emotionless ass, you know. I hope you get admitted to the ER with third degree dick burns, you sack of assholes."

Dave takes the last sip of coke, leaning back into the kitchen to toss the can in the trash. When he turns back Karkat is right there, and they share an intense stare before Karkat makes a small sound and throws his arms around Dave. "I am such a fucking idiot." His voice is muffled in Dave's shirt.

Tell me something I don't know almost rolls off Dave's tongue but he swallows it. "Dude, I'm not even mad anymore. It's ok." Karkat huffs in frustration, but relaxes, the tiniest bit. Dave puts his palms flat against Karkat's spine, feels him breathe.

When Dave eventually pulls Karkat over onto the couch again Karkat squirms into his lap, burying his head in Dave's shoulder. He's heavy and clingy and way too warm but Dave holds him close.

Karkat pushes himself back, a little, frowning into Dave's eyes, and the furrow between his eyebrows doesn't go away when they kiss, furiously, Karkat's hands everywhere at once, fisting in his hair, clutching his shirt, at the sides of his face, hauling him as close as they can possibly get.

Karkat grabs him by the shoulders and shoves him down onto the couch, crawling over his body and pinning his wrists to the armrest before fiercely kissing him again. Dave lets the corners of his mouth curl upwards, just a little. Yeah. The situation is under control. From the middle of all the rubble, Dave shakes his fists at the sky.