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His lips come crashing into yours as your hands fly to the back of his head, pulling on the fine hairs nestled there. You’re being pushed up against the wall, his arms caging you, supporting him as he pushes closer to you, as he invades your space and steals your breath. You wrench your head to the side and gasp – god damn he never gives you time to breathe – and he changes target willingly, mouthing his way down your neck with a few scattered nips. You grab his hips and pull them closer, forcing his body to contact yours and he muffles a low groan in your neck. You push forwards as he does and your hips clash pushing the assortment of genitalia together with a bruising force. You groan and chitter, pushing closer to the contact while he hisses and pulls back. You dig your claws in, just enough to make him bleed, not enough to maul, and growl threateningly, wordlessly demanding he get his body back to yours. If he was doing this right, if he knew how it worked, he’d growl back, push on you harder. He doesn’t, though, so he barely winces, managing to hide it behind his eternal poker face at the last second, and pulls away further. You let the tiniest of sighs pass your lips.
He doesn’t even say anything. That’s the worst bit. He just gives you the ‘we’ve talked about this’ look and backs up. You snarl. This is what makes you nearly give up on him. You’ve been here so many times, but next time you get in a shouting match it’ll start all over again.
He’s still backing up, watching you like a wary animal, and you wave him off irritably. If he wants to run, he’ll run, but he’ll never say its running. He’ll call it a tactical retreat.
When he reaches the door way he hesitates, looking at you with what you wish was hateful longing. “I told you bro, I don’t do those fucking quadrants.” A vicious growl rips out of your throat and echoes around the room. At least he has the decency to look startled before he disappears from view.
You slump back against the wall and mutter to yourself bitterly. You should have known that this would happen, but you hoped it wouldn’t. But hope hasn’t done shit for you in your 7 sweeps of life so why the fuck would it change now? If you had’ve just supressed the urge to bite, scratch, challenge and fucking beat him then it would have been fine, you would still have an armful of pasty human ass instead of a cold front and a damp patch on your pants.
You shake yourself off and leave the room, stomping angrily as you go. You pass Kanaya in the hall, waving her off with a ‘I’ll talk to you later’ because you really need to clean yourself and change your pants right fucking now and not be side-tracked by a feelings jam, no matter how helpful it would be.
You scurry towards your respite block, opening the door with such force that is rebounds off the wall and back into your face, almost giving you a bloody nose.
“OW! Mother FUCK!” You shout, kicking the door aside gentler and holding a hand to your face where it was hit. “Jegus motherfucking Christ. Of fucking course.” You mutter as you shut and lock your door before making your way to the ablution chamber. “Of fucking course that would happen because today is intergalactic everyone shit on Karkat day. The day where every single living and non-living entity on this godforsaken rock gets to trample over me and my feelings like they don’t even fucking exist.” You continue muttering as you strip and turn on the water, barely waiting for it to heat up before climbing in and cleaning yourself.
You start with your shoulders, just rolling them as the spray patters on your back. You pull out the little sponge that Strider gave you ‘ironically’ and begin sloughing off the dead skin and sweat that had accumulated since you last showered. Normally at this point in time you’d be humming to yourself, but not today. “God damned Strider, can’t just accept that there’s CLEARLY something black between us. Wait, no, there can’t be because he DOESN’T DO THE FUCKING QUADRANTS.” You throw the sponge across the room, scowling after it before slinking out of the water with a shiver to pick it up. You climb back into the ablution trap carefully because it wouldn’t surprise you if you slipped and brained yourself on your way. Luckily, you suppose, you don’t and you return to your muttered complaints and cleansing. You scrub across your stomach, poking at the small amount of pudge that’s developed during your time on this fucking rock, and down lower, making a careful pass over your boneshield and nook, scrubbing a little harder at your inner thighs to remove the evidence of your earlier arousal.
When the last traces of red have been scrubbed off and washed down the drain you place the sponge back in its little alcove and take a half-step back, enveloping yourself in the stream of warm water, enjoying the heat while it lasts.
The water eventually runs cold so you turn it off, shaking water from your hair and shivering as your heated skin is assaulted by the cooler air of the ablution chamber. You reach for your towel, rubbing the threadbare material over your hair before wrapping it around your waist and leaving the room.
You kick your clothes along the ground, loathing the fact that your towel is so thin and doing nothing to keep you any semblance of warm while you dry yourself off. You kick your worn clothes to the corner and rummage through your unstable-looking, and highly unorganized, closet for another shirt and jeans.
You’ve managed to find a shirt and throw it to your human ‘bed’ when you hear a knock on the door.
“Hold on!” you call towards it, searching faster to find some pants and boxers, eventually digging out a pair of old jeans and bright red boxers. You pull them on as fast as possible, barely stumbling as you shove your legs into the jeans, and open the door. “What?” You snap, hostile until you realize its Kanaya, and you step aside to let her in.
She raises an eyebrow at you, and it takes you a moment to remember your shirt, less time to grab it, and a little longer to yank it over your head. While you finish dressing yourself Kanaya seats herself at your desk. “What had you so bothered earlier that you could not even stop to say hello?” she asks, direct as ever.
“I…” you falter. You’d really rather do this in a pile, even if you aren’t official moirails yet. You fiddle with the cuffs of your sweater and glance around your block in search of appropriate pile material. “Well,” you start, moving around the block and kicking a variety of things into a vague pile. “Strider was being an insufferable douche again.” You finish your makeshift pile and glance at it meaningfully, not wanting to outright ask Kanaya to pile with you.
She willingly moves to the pile, rearranging a few things before pulling you down beside her and directing your head to her lap. “That behaviour is not a new occurrence. What particularly bothered you this time?” She run her fingers through your hair, untangling it in ways it hasn’t been since you were a grub.
“We were arguing, can’t even remember what it was about now, and then we were fighting and then he fucking kissed me, like he always does, and I kissed back, like the fucking imbecile I am, and it was so perfect,” you clench your fingers in her skirt angrily. It had been perfect, and he had to go and ruin it. She makes a soft, understanding, noise and gently runs a claw around the base of your horn.
“That does not sound like an issue, particularly not if it has happened before.”
“Not by itself, no, but I got ahead of myself, made it blacker than his stupid human thinkpan could wrap itself around and he panicked and ran. And made sure to remind me he doesn’t ‘do those fucking quadrants’.” Your words are underlined with a growl that Kanaya quickly soothes out of you.
“To me it sounds like there is some miscommunication.” She begins, so patient and so pale for you.
“You don’t fucking say.” You snap, earning a pointed glare.
“The two of you need to sit down and have a proper, civilized conversation about this. Neither of you shouting, neither of you walking out.” She waits for you to absorb what she told you, and hums in thought. “If you so wish, I could mediate, ensure that this gets sorted out…” Before she’s even finished you’re shaking your head at her.
“I’ve had enough bad luck with blurring the quadrant lines, I don’t want to try it again.” You take a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh. “I guess I should go find him and have that talk.”
“I think I saw him in the kitchen on my way here. Perhaps he is still there.” She gives the base of your horns a quick massage, blushing a brilliant jade as you look at her in surprise. “I – Forgive me, was that too forward of me?”
“No, not at all.” You shake your head for emphasis and smile at her. “Thank you Kanaya.” You pull yourself out of the pile and hold your hand out to help her up. She smiles at you and thanks you, straightening her skirt while ducking her head to hide her blush.
“I should go check on Rose. Make sure she does not drink too much of her soporific substance.” Her blush is still visible but fading fast as she leaves your block, leaving you with and urge to hunt her down and make her talk to you about Rose’s problems. You shake yourself. That can wait. Right now you have a Strider to hunt down and talk some sense into.
You find him in the food preparation block, as Kanaya had said, eating a sandwich literally dripping grub sauce.
“Is there even anything else sandwiched between those slices of bread?” you ask, smirking to yourself as you see him jump.
He turns to you and shrugs, swallowing his mouthful before speaking.
“I’unno man. Maybe there is, maybe there isn’t. Who can say for sure?” He gestures vaguely with the sandwich, and you watch in disgust as more sauce drips out of it.
“That’s a new level of disgusting, Strider, even for you. How can you eat that?” You circle around him to reach the bread, which he left open, and start making yourself a sandwich.
“Used to eat all sortsa weird shit. Pb and pickle sandwiches, mayo and jelly, really whatever we miraculously had in the apartment, I would eat it.” You don’t watch, but you can hear him make his way to the table, pulling out a chair and sitting in it. You hear the plate clatter on the table’s surface and bitterly hope he spills grubsauce all over himself.
“I know shit all about your inferior human foods and even I know that’s disgusting.” You growl out, opening the thermal hull to get the grubsauce, if Strider even left any.
“Yeah, but it means that now I will eat almost anything. Won’t even complain cause I’ve had worse.” You think you hear him kick his feet onto the table, a thought that is confirmed when you turn to him, holding the all but empty grubsauce jar, and see him leaning on the back legs of his chair, back facing you. “When you have a Bro who will shop randomly, you gotta get used to eating weird shit. One day…” You tune him out as you creep up behind him, placing one foot on the trailing end of his cape before you unbalance his chair, sending him jerking forwards before he gets caught on his cape. You grin viciously at the small choking noise he makes as you lift your foot and watch him collapse forwards, nearly hitting his head on the table. “What-“ his voice rasps and he stops, wincing.
“You used the last of the grubsauce on your revolting sandwich you stupid dickfuck.” You growl, pivoting and walking away from him to search the thermal hull for a substitute.
“That-“ He cuts himself off again, and you turn to face him so he can see your smirk.
“What’s wrong Strider? Meowbeast got your tongue?” You mock, turning back to the thermal hull to pull out a jar labelled ‘Mayo’ and slathering it on a slice of bread.
He stalks past you, kicking you in the ankle as he goes, and grabs a glass from a cupboard, half filling it with water. He gulps the water down and scowls at you, massaging his throat where a red line is developing slowly.
“Is that supposed to be a joke cause of your nickname, Karkitty?” he asks eventually, voice back to normal and smirk showing in full force.
You snarl wordlessly but don’t comment, opting instead to add some of the leafy thing, called lettuce, to your sandwich. You take another dive into the thermal hull to pull out some meat that had been pushed right to the back and layer that on the lettuce before slapping another piece of bread on the top.
“Strider. We need to talk.” You take a bit of your sandwich, chewing slowly as the human looks at you.
“Talk? About what?” His hand starts tapping out a beat against his leg, his foot tapping along softly.
You swallow your mouthful loudly, having to make the motion twice because the bread gets caught in your throat. “Quadrants.” You put your sandwich on the bench top and grab Strider’s now-empty glass, refilling it and taking a few big gulps. “It’s obvious you feel something black for me. You just have to admit it.”
“Woah, no way man. I’m human, remember? That means there are no black feelings.” He skirts around your side towards the doorway. You growl and cut him off.
“You’re awfully good at pitch flirting for someone who ‘doesn’t do black feelings’.” You talk closer to him, backing him into the corner and forcing him to go on the defensive.
“What, can’t a guy just annoy his bro some?” He snaps, hesitantly stepping backwards until he feels the bench pressed against his back.
“Do ‘bros’ normally kiss each other?” You snarl, pressing closer to him until your bodies are nearly touching.
“No, but you know what?” He says angrily, pushing forwards until you’re the one being forced backwards. “That doesn’t matter because most bros don’t take this sort of thing as a solicitation!” He’s shouting by the end and you’re backed into the corner now.
“Are you trying to pin this on me?” you ask incredulously. “For your information, fuckstick, I’m not the one that forced myself upon you! You’re the douchebag in shades that kissed me! All I did was return it!” You shout in his face, only seeing your angry face reflected back at you as well as his mouth set in a snarl.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have returned it!” He shouts, taking a step back warily.
“If I didn’t return it you would have bitched at me about that! How the fuck can I come out of this on top?!” Kanaya and Rose can probably hear your screaming, but neither of you care, too caught up in the argument.
“By leaving me the fuck out of your fucking quadrants!” He straightens up and looms over you, placing his hand on the bench either side of you, effectively trapping you in. “I don’t want,” he breathes, leaning down until your lips are nearly touching, “ANY part of your freaky relationship squares. Capisce?”
You feel his breath wash over your lips and for once you’re the one that makes the first contact, pushing your lips together and grabbing his hips, gently, to pull him against your body. He only resists for a fraction of a second before he gives in, returning the kiss with as much enthusiasm as you are giving it. His hands move to your hips, squeezing them with a bruising force that makes you mewl into his mouth. You trail your hands up his chest to latch around his neck, pulling it closer so you can deepen the kiss with a groan. His hands trail down to your thighs and he lifts you. There’s a moment of panic where you break the kiss, clinging to him in fear and ready to curse up a storm, and then he drops you roughly on the bench top, placing his mouth back over yours before you can make a sound.
He takes a step closer, nudging your legs apart with his body and lets out a low groan as you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him even closer. You break the kiss, tilting your head to the side as he starts to kiss down your neck. Your hands tangle in his hair and everything feels so good, even if you are in the middle of the food preparation block. He licks a long stripe up the side of your neck, then kisses down it. “Still not doing your quadrant thing.” He murmurs between kisses and you freeze, pushing him away.
“What.” You deadpan, keeping him at arm’s length even as he pushes back towards you.
“Making out is hot, and yeah, I’d like in your pants, but the quadrants… tried that with ‘Rezi, didn’t suit me.” He shrugs and you scowl.
“Fuck off.” You’re not doing this again. Not just when you thought he’d finally understood it.
“What? No, Karkat-“
“No. Fuck. Off. You don’t want the quadrants? Fine, don’t have the quadrants, but you can just go fuck yourself if you think I’ll keep doing this.” You growl and he steps back, allowing you to push yourself off the bench and leave the block in search of Kanaya.
After five minutes of angry searching you find her, and Rose, in the common relaxation block. She’s seated in a pile of pillows, Rose’s head cradled in her lap and a book open in front of her. You’re about to leave them uninterrupted when she notices you and beckons you over.
“How did your discussion go?” She asks, running her claws though your hair soothingly. You glance at Rose, wary of her presence until you notice she’s asleep. “She will sleep for hours yet. We will have time to talk.” Kanaya assures you.
You sigh. “He didn’t listen. He just spewed the same fucking bull shit as before. Augh.” You fall back on the pillows digging the heels of your palms into your eyes. “He’d be so perfect if he would just respect the quadrants.” You groan, peeking around your hands to see Kanaya’s musing face.
“Perhaps you do not need him to follow the quadrants.” You gape at her. She clears her throat and continues. “I am not saying that you need to disregard the quadrants entirely. I am merely suggesting that you cease trying to force him to prescribe to them. You could continue viewing it as a kismessitude, and he can continue viewing it as…. Whatever it is he views it as.”
You go to tell her that it wouldn’t work, but you hesitate. That could work. “I’m not sure he’d agree to that.” You mumble.
“If you do not work something out together you will keep going through this cycle. Even if it means setting everything you believe aside for the time the two of you are together, it will make your relationship last longer.” She smiles fondly at Rose as she speaks, brushing a lock of pale hair away from her face. “Humans have much different ideas of relationships than we do. In some ways their ideas are much stricter, in others much looser. You need to work out what you are willing to give up to pursue this relationship fully.” You hum in agreement and she raises her eyes to meet yours. You can see where the jade is starting to show through, and you don’t doubt that yours look similar. “Alternatively, you can keep having altercations and rather public pailing sessions. To each his own, as the saying goes.” She smiles gently, even though her cheeks glow with jade as she blushes. “You really should stay quieter.” She murmurs with a soft laugh.
You can feel yourself go pale and fall back on the pillows, hiding your face from the sheer embarrassment. She lets you wallow in the shame of past you being such an exhibitionist, turning back to her book until you’re ready to talk again.
You stay lying, just thinking about everything she’d said. Maybe you do just need to let Strider do his thing while you follow the kismessitude. It seemed to be working so far, why wouldn’t it keep working?
When you can bring yourself to sit up again Kanaya reacts instantly, putting a bookmark in to keep her place and setting it off to the side.
“I think you’re right, Kanaya. Thanks.” You smile at her, laying a hand over hers.
“It is my pleasure, Karkat.” She smiles back.
The moment is the perfect picture of budding moiraillegiance, only ruined by Rose’s inelegant snores as she rolls over in Kanaya’s lap.
“So, how’re you two going? You seem to be well.” You say. Time for you to do your share in this relationship.