Oh GOD my first M rating fic on here. . D . OKAY FIRST OFF this is a side-story type one shot for my story Suites and Suits, where Karkat is the project manager at a high-end programming company. It's a Solkat fic but I added dirk into the picture as kind of a side thing, really. I didn't expect it to make me ship this SO FUCKING HARD!
Anyway, KK's 22 in this I believe, and Dirk is 25. I think. They met in college and had major interest in each other as Karkat was coming to terms with his homosexuality. Before this the idea of being together wasn't even discussed, and then Karkat went on to date Eridan for two years, which wasn't exactly the best relationship he's ever had. They met during an internship, and after learning that only one person would be hired, Karkat gave up his position after making it VERY clear to their boss who was well-suited for the job.
After they broke up this total jerkwad asked him out, and expected Karkat to put out. When he didn't, the asshat shamed him by inviting him to his old work, and lied completely about being rejected, accusing Karkat of being a whore for the company. This takes place directly afterwards.
Anyway, for anyone who remembers, in the timeline of the actual fic, which takes place about two years later, Dirk and Karkat are on-and-off FBW's, even though their relationship was more or less defined. I just wrote this out of the need for dirkkat. But take it.
So basically, this is a side thing. I would highly reccomend checking out my other story, hint hint. But anyway enjoy the dirkkat. Because there's only three on here and that makes me a very sad puppy.
Karkat didn't know who else to turn to. Dirk was the first person he could turn to, after everything that had happened. He felt betrayed, debauched, completely embarrassed… There was no hope for him now. Who the fuck would hire a would-be whore? He only dated Eridan though, and he slept with him, yes, but… Fifth cig in a row and Dirk finally called back. One second of hearing his surprisingly calming voice sent him into a coughing/sobbing fit.
He asked Dirk to come pick him up, and there was a wonderful opportunity of Strider actually being helpful and not questioning things. For once. He stopped by lighting up on cig seven and Karkat felt sick. "Kitkat, you look like shit, man." Dirk stopped by the bench, reaching out to pet your hair. "Thought you quit." All he received was a glare. Dirk glared back, taking the cig directly from his mouth. "No more, Karkat. Let's go."
Dirk helped him up, lead him to his lame flame-side pickup truck, and sat Cal in his lap. Halfway to Karkat's apartment and he broke down, clutching the creepy-ass puppet until Dirk turned the car RIGHT back around and headed for his place. No stops to check on him, no words exchanged. Just nimble fingers occasionally run through those soft black locks at the stop lights and shitty rap music to muffle the sobs.
They got inside the apartment and Dirk dumped his now sickly buddy onto the couch for moment. Naturally Karkat ran right for the bathroom and emptied his stomach of the big meal he was so happy to have this morning. He really had no clue how Dirk got to his side in seconds flat but the man pulled his hair back and offered him a towel and bottle of squirt to drown out the nasty taste. Then getting him back to the couch, he finally spoke up about everything.
"Kitkat, babe. I know you're usually a pretty strong guy an all, and I'm not the type to keep a bro by himself, but could ya maybe explain why you were killin' yerself with seven cigs, crying all alone at yer old work? I mean, bro. It's kind of excessive for just a random-ass depressive spell." Karkat didn't want to answer, but Dirk had already tucked him in to a nice warm quilt, and he was handling the boy with care, probably like he'd handled that little brother he said he raised. An hour and a half of comforting pep-talk and Karkat spilled, telling him the gist of it.
He'd never seen Dirk angry before. But every little weak spot in his voice, and every tear suddenly seemed to garner a protective response from the man. He was damn near clutching his katana to go defend his bro's honor. Didn't make it too far, he tried to leave and Karkat broke, not wanting to be alone.
He must have understood that somehow, Dirk agreed to stay there and even slept on the futon with Karkat for that night. He became crutch for Karkat's still-sensitive, recovering emotional state. The first few days Dirk didn't leave for work and he'd stayed most of the time just being there for Karkat. Things didn't change at all. The next day, however, made things even more complicated. Dirk had to go DJ at the club and Karkat didn't want him to leave, he went with him.
Somehow Karkat still hadn't gotten past the self-destructive habits just yet. He drank himself to a stupor and by the end of Dirk's shift the man was an obnoxious mess at the bar. Dirk being nearby just made things worse, and Karkat went right from yelling to clinging to Dirk's side like a proud drunk twink. (Okay, he kind of was one, not gonna lie.) Dirk hadn't been drinking, but enough sneaky kisses and dirty talk murmured into his ears and he took Karkat home with a throbbing erection.
It really was no lie that they had been attracted to each other beforehand. Dirk is a powerful guy, and is extremely easy on the eyes, when you can actually see them. Karkat saw them before this whole mess and he was stupefied. Dirk is attractive, damn considerate, and his accent just makes him sexier. What's not to want about him? Karkat on the flipside had been a mess that whole week, and honestly he wasn't much to look at, even with his ungodly fine ass and creative way with words. There was a special charm about him, too. Something Dirk was having a hard time rejecting. Karkat hadn't been with someone in a long while now, and a drop-dead sexy drunkard in that bar could have given him some problems.
Bartender was saying he had his eyes on Dirk for the whole five hours. Plenty of people tried to flirt, but none of them got his attention away from the man. Sure they had spent nearly all week nearby, and there was a lot of sexual tension before, but couldn't Kitkat just keep it in his pants until after the emotional shit blows over?
That answer's obvious by the way his tongue's sweet in the man's mouth, his thigh's teasing between the other's legs. It doesn't help any situation when Dirk's hard on took attention, when he changed things and slammed Karkat to the wall, taking everything under his control. Karkat's voice rang in his ears, carelessly moaning at their hips grinding and lips find themselves everywhere. Karkat buckled under his dominance, willfully being pulled to bed and stripped down.
They hadn't said much, just Dirk mumbling dirty talk. Talking just seemed to make things awkward, to bring reality back where it really shouldn't be. Dirk doesn't feel like shit about this until he's stretching that perfectly tight little entrance, three fingers deep making Karkat whimper and grunt impatiently. Karkat was a little apprehensive when Dirk stripped, but too much alcohol was a great deterrent to reasonable thought.
He was fucking a close friend, who'd just been betrayed, disgraced and called a whore by someone he outright refused to have sex with. It almost made Dirk stop, until he found his prostate on accident. Karkat cried out and pressed right up against his fingers, demanding more. It's a safe bet to say he wouldn't be stopping this.
He was already easing all thick seven inches into that cute ass before he could even remember to slow down. Karkat was a whimpering mess just begging for him to fuck him already. "Move, please." He whined, clenching the man's shoulders with a tight grip. Dirk wasn't going to simply appease his carelessness, he knew it would hurt. "Dirk…"
Karkat was so honest, it was almost painful. Calling his probably one-time lover's name, forgoing his long-winded rants for simple phrases and moans. Even before all he would offer was friendly, casual conversation. He was comfortable around Dirk; willing to let himself go and just feel. Dirk himself hadn't gone for the casual one-night-stand position. No, this was missionary and—ohhfuck he's so nice and tight, yeah, that feels so fucking good—personal. Dirk hadn't even noticed the shades being off until he got enough sense to throw his head back in pleasure, spotting them nearby on the pillow. AR eat your heart out, motherfucker.
Karkat had some damn stamina for a needy desperate drunk bitch, and Dirk honestly wasn't complaining. He changed positions twice, turning him to the side and then bending Karkat around him until he was just slamming into the tight hole, relishing in the sweetest moans he had heard, the headboard hitting the wall. No fucks were given to the neighbors, they were both beyond caring. Dirk was balls deep in pleasure, and Karakt's one of the best fuck's he's had in such fucking long time.
Karkat moaned Dirk's full name as he came, (how did he remember his middle name after a full year?) clinging tight as the man pumped him full. No need bothering about pregnancies, no need to pull out and have a cold orgasm. And holy *fuck* was it strong. KK was more used to bottoming than he had expected, maybe his did it for that ex of his too. A little practice and being sober and he'd have the makings to be a wonderful bottom bitch.
Ha. As if Dirk wasn't completely satisfied already. Hoooly *fuck* that was nice. Even as Karkat curled up around Cal (How'd he get there? Heh, sneaky fucker.) and went right to sleep he was beautiful. Dirk did the respectful thing, cleaning them both up as much as he could before collapsing. He'd taken his cuddle buddy, so Dirk just pulled him up instead. The younger man seemed to melt in his arms. Dirk had found a nice warm little spoon and by god that was a damn good replacement. There wasn't any room to think of how tomorrow would be, everything was perfect right now.
Somehow the man hoped this would last. Maybe it was just the afterglow.
Okay so I am not the best at smut but take it. BADLY WRITTEN SMUT FTW!
Oh my god am i actually going to post this?
Yes. Yes I am.