Work Text:
"Karkat, can we fuck yet?" The question at first was a joke. You'd been going out for maybe six months. Kissed, cuddled, maybe made out some when you had the chance. You were tapping away on the keys of your laptop, snuggled away in your favorite chair with a fleece blanket around your ankles. He'd been walking by with a cup of apple juice in his hands. He'd looked you up and down, and despite your eyes being glued to your computer screen and his hidden behind his shades that he was aiming to start kissing you in 30 seconds or less.
"I don't know, when will apple juice stop looking like piss?" He looked down at his glass.
"Dammit," he muttered. "That mean we're never gonna fuck?" As much as you used the word, "fuck" in the way he said it sat thick in the air and made you slightly uncomfortable.
"No." It was more of a grunt confirming that you heard what he said. Despite what you expected, Dave simply shrugged and plopped down onto the couch next to you, and took a big swig of the juice in his hand. He peeked at your screen over your shoulder; you blushed and shifted away from him. "Don't look at what I'm writing, shitbag."
"Ooh, is this some compromising material, Karbun? Writing about your favorite hot blonde with awesome shades beating the meatstick with the plucky protagonist?"
"No, fuck off!"
"I'd like to but the radiator isn't on upstairs." You didn't have the gall to tell him he didn't have to go upstairs.
The second time he asked was another two months later when he beat you at a round of Scrabble (you'd gotten him into it thinking it was an easy way to get back at him for his superiority in video games) by spelling out the word "virility." He'd grabbed you into a headlock and noogied your head until you were laughing and getting irritated at the same time. Once freed, you'd started removing the small wooden tablets from the board and replacing them in the small velvet sack. "Can I get a fuck for winning?" You simply chuckled to yourself, brushing it off as another one of Dave's dumb jokes.
"You can get a fuck like this." You raised your middle finger with a smirk.
"How did you know I was into fingering?" The smirk was replaced with a scowl and your middle finger curled back into a fist. "Ooh, fisting, I've never thought about that but I'm always willing to try something new."
"Shut the fuck up and grab your letters from the bag, douchebitch."
You weren't uncomfortable with the idea of sex. You weren't even uncomfortable with the idea of sex with Dave. You two were 19, supposedly still young and horny and inexperienced. You'd read about it. You might've jerked yourself off once or twice. Okay, you were totally lying about that. You couldn't even say you'd never jerked off to imaginations of Dave. But the concept, the way he brought it up so casually, it was foreign to you, had developed into an enormous elephant pissing on your favorite rug you'd gotten when you went to India. You clearly remembered that your rug came without the elephant with a bladder problem.
The third time it came up was after you went out for dinner for your 1st anniversary and were walking back to his crappy used car. He held your hand tightly, constantly looking over his shoulder and your shoulder for something that you hadn't any idea as to what it was. Once you got into the car, he stuck his customized key, shaped like a broken record, into the ignition and the engine let out a low purr. "Yo, Karkat." You turned towards him. "Let's talk about sex."
"Okay," you replied, unsteadiness seeping into your voice, "let's talk about sex."
"Do you not wanna have sex?" You shook your head.
"Where the shit did you get that idea?"
"Just a notion. Just," he shifted in his seat, not making any movements that showed his intentions to actually drive, "a notion, kitten. You never seemed that into it."
"I was." You bit down on your lip. Admit it? "Nervous, alright? Fucking nervous." Dave turned to look at you at that. Too quickly.
"Nervous?" He sounded incredulous. "Hm."
"It's not you, dammit. I'm just. Not all that attractive."
"Whoa, whoa, the fuck did you just say?" The key was yanked out of the ignition, and he was up in your face. "Are you trying to jabber on to your boyfriend of a year that you aren't the hottest shit I've ever burned my pretty little fingertips on?" You blushed heavily and averted your eyes. His hand was around your chin and tilted it back towards him. "If you smell burning flesh it's probably me." You let out a choked chuckle. "Look, babe, I don't care if you got a sack full of tentacles for a set of genitalia, there is absolutely fuckin' nothing you could say that would deter me, I would go down on you and let those tentacles work their way down my throat until they came out of my ass and started jerking me off."
"Ew."
"You bet." Finally, he retreated and slung his arms over the steering wheel. "So do you wanna fuck?" He noticed your involuntary wince at the phrase. "Come on, it's honesty hour. I'll tell you all about how I used to shove carrots in my ass to see how it would feel."
"I am never eating a carrot again." You paused. "Isn't there a better term for it other than 'fucking'?"
"Well, no shit." He scratched his chin with his thumb. "Banging, doing the do, hooking up, making love--" He cracked a smirk. "No, don't tell me. You're one of those romantic love-makers, aren't you." He started to snort. You stayed silently blushing. His snickers subsided not three seconds later when you shoved a sock down his throat. "Oh, shit."
"Way to fuck yourself in the mouth with your shoe, dickass."
"Hey, you learn something new every day. I always thought you'd be the type of guy to craved to be shoved against a wall and fucked mercilessly until he couldn't walk or some other brutalizing kinky shit." You wanted to say that a kind of experience like that wouldn't not pleasure you, but you were trying to maintain a semi-serious conversation. "So, making love. Sound more appealing now?" You had to admit yes as you nodded your head. "So now, or...?"
"Eager, are we?" You managed a smug look. "The back of your car doesn't sound like a very romantic place to get laid on the night of our anniversary."
"I'm not good at this romance shit."
"I'm not good at this sex shit." He stuck the key back into the ignition and set the car into drive.
"Guess we have a lot to learn from each other, then."