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He confesses it to Dave before they’re even in a relationship.
Dave’s doing that rambling thing he always does, talking about how everyone was writing fanfiction about how Nick and Jay Gatsby should have fucked, I mean, come on, that elevator scene was atrocious - goddamn fade to black and then cut to two men half-naked in bed together?? Damn right they were giving each other sloppy toppy after those doors closed, what kind of heterosexual behavior-
And that’s where Karkat had made the mistake of cutting in. Asking what the fuck kind of sex is “sloppy toppy” and Dave flustering ever so slightly before slipping back into his explanation.
Like, c’mon man, the oral sex. The mouth merengue, the tongue tap dance, the penis in the other hole whole shebang.
And then Karkat, once Dave had sufficiently embarrassed himself with his ramblings, had to explain that, no, trolls don’t really do that. No, Dave, not because they’re all prudes, but because teeth. Sharp, made for tearing flesh, teeth.
That had been a long time ago. Back on the meteor, where they were still doing that will they, won’t they fucked up kind of mating dance, back then.
Things are better now, in the new universe. Better because they’re safe now, and better because it’s theirs. Wholly theirs. Theirs to help shape and create and grow, and if he says so himself, they’ve done a pretty decent job at it.
He’s happier now. He and Dave are happier now. And they’re both dating, but, that’s beside the point.
Or, well, maybe not entirely. Beside the point, that is. Because the reason this narrator has bothered with this exposition for all of you, is that today, when Karkat is cornered in their bedroom by his boyfriend, Dave’s mouth doesn’t seem at all interested in his mouth as the end goal.
No, not at all.
Dave kisses him, warm and soft and breathy and perfect, but pulls his mouth away, as his hands caress their way down Karkat’s sides.
Dave kisses at where Karkat’s bulge lies, squirming, in his underwear, and his breath damn near stops.
Trolls don’t do this. Teeth. Too sharp, those damn things.
Trolls don’t do this. But humans…. Humans can.
“Shit, do you want me to stop?” Dave asks, soothing, and it’s only then does Karkat realize he’s been sat frozen.
“I know you said trolls don’t do this, I should’ve asked, it’s okay, we can always-“
“Dave.” He cuts him off, rough voice suddenly a whole level more raspy.
He gulps, tension burning in his belly.
“Just surprised.” He reassures him. And then, under his breath, “do it again.”
Dave’s eyes light up, before he smirks.
“Aye, aye, cap’n,” and Karkat rolls his eyes before those hot lips kiss over his squirming bulge once more.
“Hah..” he breathes, not used to the sensation of it. “Good,” he admits. Dave blinks up at him. “Again.”
Dave does, taking full permission, this time, kissing over it once before opening his mouth and fondling, hot breaths breathing moisture into the fabric, and open mouth teasing, separated by only fabric from his eager bulge.
This is maybe the most a troll could do, and even then, they’d be risking it. But with Dave… or for that matter, with any human. But, no, Dave. It’s Dave. Only his Dave. It’s okay, with him.
Dave presses his tongue into the fabric, saliva dripping through and causing a thrill of pleasure to burst up through his spine from his tongue. He fists a hand in the sheets, helplessly, breaths getting more labored by the second as his bulge responds, very eagerly, to Dave’s clever mind.
“Goddamn,” Dave mutters, mouth still hot against the pulsing wet of him. His boxers are undeniably soaked through. “Can’t believe trolls can’t give head. You guys are fucking missing out.”
Karkat groans, his other hand flying to grip tightly at Dave’s hair.
He lets go of the blonde strands almost immediately, but Dave responds with a high moan, so he wefts his fingers through the strands again, and pulls at it.
Dave whimpers, again, hot breath teasing the length of him.
“Fuck,” he mutters, sounding winded. “Karkat, shit, warn a guy, a guy’s gotta be prepared to learn he likes getting his hair pulled.”
Karkat wants to chuckle, but the part of him that would do it is overpowered by the part of him that wants to chase that burning, primal lust.
“You’re kinky, Strider, we get it,” he quips, “keep going,” he moans. “Please.”
Dave makes a noise of acknowledgment, against him.
He glances up, red eyes burning under pale blonde lashes.
“Skin to skin?” He asks, thumb running circles into his hipbone.
Karkat nods, blushing furiously.
“Shit,” Dave says, a little awed, a little messy. “Alright. Come on,” he says, pushing himself up a little, and shimmying Karkat’s boxers down. “Help me get these off of you.”
Karkat does, lifting his hips for easier access, though he bemoans the fact that it means he has to let go of Dave’s hair.
Dave pushes away from him, fully, just to get the thing all the way off, but immediately, he’s back on him, Karkat involuntarily whimpering as he gets a hand around his slick, the genital curling itself around him, eager for attention.
Dave watches in curious amazement, still awed by the fact that troll bulges can just... do that. Karkat had explained it to him once - something about trolls having a more complex nervous system - but every time they have sex, he always catches himself just watching, in amazement, as the red, sex-slick tentacle writhes and rubs itself against whatever body part Dave offers it.
He twists his hand around it, pinching two fingers together to rub hard at the sensitive tip, and Karkat flails beneath him, body curling inwards and upwards as his hand flies back to fist in Dave’s hair, and the other one comes up to muffle the noise of his mouth.
Dave tuts, lowering his head for a cautious lick at the squirming edge of his tendril.
“Come on, babe, mouth uncovered, yeah?” He eases. “First time doing this. I need to hear you.”
Karkat huffs, but complies. “Fuck you,” he mumbles.
“As you wish,” Dave retorts, bringing his head back down to his bulge to close his lips around the end, and suckle at the tip of it.
Karkat whispers a “fuck,” hand tightening and loosening uselessly in his hair as his head rolls back into the sheets.
Dave brings his head up, again, so that he’s in the low ends of Karkat’s periphery.
“Pull me off if you want to stop,” he says, referring to the hand in his hair. “Or, you know,” he shrugs. “Just tell me.”
As much as Karkat would like to retort with a witty comeback, Dave’s already lowering his head again, twisting his hand around him while suckling , briefly, at the tip.
“Oh, and babe?” He says, receiving only a short, “hm?” in return.
“I know you’ve never done this before, but please,” he says, and it’s so hard to focus when his lips are still moving , feather light, against his bulge. “Please, try not to choke me with this thing.”
With that, he takes the thing in his mouth, causing Karkat to sharply inhale, wholly unprepared for it.
He tightens his fist in Dave’s hair and almost throws a hand over his mouth again, on instinct. It’s so hot, and wet, and Dave’s tongue - he doesn’t think anything he’s ever felt can compare.
It’s all the wetness of kissing someone, all the energetic clumsiness of their first few sloppy makeouts, but the whole thing is replicated on his bulge, and the sensation is incredible. Hot, wet - but not quite like being inside someone. Dave’s hand is still curled around him, rubbing and twisting at the base as he eases more into his mouth, and the joint sensation of it is making him light-headed.
It squirms and thrashes around in Dave’s mouth, unsure if it wants to tangle with Dave’s tongue or wriggle itself as deep as it can get into his throat. Or, better yet, just let Dave hold him, let Dave suckle deliciously at the tip, tongue twirling with the edge of it as he sucks hard, cheeks hollowing, pulse after pulse of slick fluid slowly gushing out of its membrane and dripping it’s way down into Dave’s mouth and across his lips.
Gods, the sight of that alone is enough to make Karkat tear his gaze away - his bulge in Dave’s mouth, Dave carelessly swallowing his fluids… it’s too much. It’s so wrong. It’s so right.
Karkat can’t tell if he has a weird thing for humans, or if it’s just the shit Dave will do to him that makes him go this specific sort of insane.
Dave takes him in deeper, tongue twining with his length, taking as much as he can into his mouth before gagging, and sliding it back out again.
Karkat prepares for it to be over, for his bulge-sucking privileges to be done, but then Dave takes him back into his mouth again, taking his bulge as far as he can take it before sliding back until all but the tip is out, and taking it deeper, again.
He is, effectively, fucking his own face, and if Karkat didn’t have a thing for it before, he definitely does now.
He strains to keep his eyes open as Dave continues his relentless treatment, fucking his bulge into his mouth, even as his eyes water with the beginnings of tears and he makes struggling noises in the back of his throat.
He doesn’t seem uncomfortable, though, so Karkat doesn’t question it. Not that he has the brainpower to, not with the wet heat, and sinful strokes of tongue, and the way it vibrates so deliciously on his moans, and the way he can feel it hit and squirm at the back of Dave’s throat, and the sensation of Dave’s exhalations, hot, on his groin-
“Shit,” he gasps out, grip tightening on the blonde hair in his fist. A gush of fluid flows out of him as a pulse of pleasure runs through his slick length.
“Dave, I’m gonna-“ he grits out. “Shit, I’m gonna come.”
He doesn’t pull Dave away - they’ve had sex enough times for him to know the amount of troll slick that he has in store, he knows better than to try and keep it in his mouth.
He should. He should know better.
“Dave-!” Karkat warns, but he just keeps sucking, keeps going, taking the bulge out of his mouth to lick a slow stripe up the entire length-
“Dave-!” Karkat cries, as his eyes close on instinct, the pressure building. “God- goddamnit, Dave-! I-! Oh!!”
And just like that, he’s coming, pushed off the precipice before he even really registered he’d reached the edge of it.
Dave has just the tip in his mouth, when he comes, coating their affectionately-nicknamed “sex blanket” in swaths of fluid, red remnants of it dripping down Dave’s lips as he lifts them, obscenely, from his bulge’s edge.
Karkat feels the waves ride out in him, before flopping back into the pillows, boneless, his thighs and ass covered thoroughly in his own ejaculate.
Dave, prim and proper as he is, wipes his mouth on the back of his (already sex-slick) hand before wiping it off on the sheets, cleaning himself with an untouched corner of the sex blanket before carefully crawling up Karkat’s body, grinning down at him.
“Well,” he says, voice still half-rough. “I guess somebody enjoyed that.”
Karkat just breathes, eyes pointed at Dave, but completely unfocused.
“Wow,” he just says, and yeah, that pretty much encapsulates it.
Yeah, he definitely has a thing for however humans are doing it.
“Human mating rituals are so weird,” he concludes.
It startled a laugh out of Dave.
Karkat’s mouth quirks up at the corners, but he just sits there, catching his breath.
“As soon as I get retainers,” he says, “I’m returning the favor.”
Dave’s eyes immediately flash down at him.
“But first,” Karkat says, still unmoving.
“I’m going to repay you another way,” he says, finger pointed lazily at Dave.
“And then, tomorrow,” he says, pointing back at himself, “we are going to do this again.”