AN: I need to get back in the habit of writing everyday, and this seems like a good way to do it, so here we go.
If you notice any mistakes please let me know.
This one is set in an alterniearth AU where Dave and Karkat share an apartment. It also works best if you listen to 'Hips Don't Lie' by Shakira while reading.
Karkat had been humming the tune all morning, walking around the apartment humming and swaying his hips in time with the tune in his head. You'd been struggling the whole time to place a name to the tune, and you still hadn't.
You're running around aimlessly in COD, afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows, when you work it out. You glance at the way your boyfriend is leaning over the table, still swaying his hips in time with the tune, and listen a little closer to his humming. He moves his hips in a small circle as you reach the conclusion that the song is, in fact, 'Hips Don't Lie'.
You pause your game, getting up to rummage through your CD collection. "Come on," you murmur to yourself as you search. "I know you're here… ah!" you uncover the ancient single and pop it out of its case, slipping it into the CD player, grabbing the remote and hitting pause before it can start playing.
You make your way up behind your boyfriend silently, freezing when his hips stop moving and he calls out to you, turning around. "Dave, do you know- Dave? What the fuck?" you see the beginnings of a shopping list over his shoulder, but ignore it in favour of pressing play and throwing the remote to the side to rest your hands on his hips, getting the swaying motion started again. He looks at you, slightly confused, but more relaxed than he usually is.
"I never really knew that you could dance like this," you sing softly when the chorus comes back, and he laughs beautifully, wrapping his arms around your neck and taking control of his hip motion again.
"Dave, you dork," he mumbles, blushing lightly, but when his time comes, he sings too. "Oh, baby when you talk like that you make a woman go mad." He rolls his hips against yours deliciously and the two of you begin dancing around your small living room, mostly hip movements, but you occasionally take small side-steps too.
Your hips move in a fairly standard side-to-side motion, or rock backwards and forwards but Karkat's move in a more exotic way.
Sometimes he moves them in small circles, or adds a little twist that starts a figure eight motion that leaves you watching as if hypnotised. You hook your hands under his usual, oversized, shirt and lift it a little to watch his abdominal muscled ripple as he twists his hips and hello there, welcome to bonersville, population 1. You gather the excess fabric and tie a knot with it at the back of the shirt so you can admire his movements fully while still dancing with him properly.
You raise your eyes to his face and you're surprised to see that your normally grouch, scowling boyfriend is smiling, eyes closed and enjoying the music that he moved to so perfectly.
"God, Karkat, you're so hot." You say and his eyes snap open. His smile broadens and his cheeks turn an ashy red as he blushes. Instead of telling you off like he usually would, he laughs, pulling your hips against his by your belt loops and rolling them together. You let out a low groan as he pushes you away and continues dancing on his own while you watch. His moves are similar to those used by belly dancers and you can't help but wonder if he takes lessons during the day.
"Huh, I should play Shakira at you more often." You comment as he turns nearly 180 degrees, giving you a nice view of his ass as he shakes it at you. Yep, this was definitely becoming a regular thing.
He turns back to you, a cheeky, and sexy as hell, grin on his face as he steps towards you, hips still swaying. He pushes you back onto the couch and slowly, tortuously slowly, climbs onto you until he's straddling your lap and your hands have found their way to rest on his (miraculous) hips.
He's now using the beat of the song to set a speed for his grinding as he rolls his hips against yours just hard enough that you're both moaning and panting, but not so hard you can actually get off from it. He tangles his fingers in your hair, angling your head back so you're watching his face, his eyes –pupils blown wide with arousal-, his lips - parted just enough that his breath comes huffing out to mingle with your own- and cheeks red with the blood coursing just beneath the surface.
You slide your hands down to his ass, squeezing and watching how his eyes slide shut, how he groans and blushes more.
Seeing the way he danced had brought an idea to you and, being the horny puddle of Strider you currently were, you blurted it out before your brain-mouth filter caught it. "Hey kitten, what do you think about doing a strip tease for me?" You watch him freeze, every muscle tensing before he relaxes again, his blush spreading to the tips of his ears. He seems to consider it, almost getting up to do it, but the song ends and he shakes his head, as if to clear it, and the spell is broken.
"Not going to happen, Strider." He growls, pushing off your shoulders to get up, fingers going to the knot you'd tied and fumbling with it until it was undone.
Your eyes follow his hips as he walks away, and you cant help but ask another question. "So, have you been taking lessons, or was that au naturale?" You narrowly dodge the pen he throws at you in response.