~.Not A Sexual.~
"Sex is a curious thing," the thought drifted through my mind as I sat curled up in between my boyfriend and the arm of the couch. My head was nuzzled comfortably into the crook of his neck, the muffled sounds of BBC's Sherlock barely reaching my ears. It wasn't Nicholas Cage but I could admit the subtle romantic developments between Sherlock and Watson were nothing to sneeze at, especially considering how Karkat usually had the worst taste in television and movies.
The show cut to commercial, a low growl rumbling in Karkat's throat and buzzing against my head. I giggled, hugging the temperamental man around the waist. His growling ceased. He sighed and pushed me up by the shoulders. I scrunched my eyebrows as Karkat looked at me, an unfamiliar weariness in his eyes where energetic anger was usually found. He stared at me for a few moments before that anger finally flared and I felt more at ease seeing this.
"Spill it." he barked, dark reddish brown hair falling in his eyes as he leaned towards me. His shoulders pulled upwards and his hands gripped his criss-crossed knees. He kind of looked like an angry cat.
"Uh what?" I smiled halfheartedly.
"You know damn well what! Don't play dipshit with me Egbert." Karkat's scowl darkened. The bags under his eyes almost seemed to turn a shade or two darker. I winced, he was right. I knew exactly what he wanted to talk about.
"I-I don't know what you mean..." I said pathetically, fidgeting with my glasses nervously. I didn't want to talk about this.
"Dammit John I know you're all shy or some shit but you've been avoiding me for three weeks!" He hissed loudly. "Why don't we just make this National Crush Karkat's Soul Month! Yeah let's fucking do that, 'cause you sure as shit aren't trying to- oh I don't know- tell me why the fuck you're avoiding me." Karkat's eyes were wide now with a frustration I hadn't seen in him before. My shoulders slumped and my eyes fell. I didn't know what to tell him.
I had realized it long before we began dating, even before I'd ever met him. As a teenager everyone had always bragged about their sexual experiences, boasting about how many people they had slept with. The jokes were funny, I guess. It really hit me one day when I was walking with Jade home from school.
She had been going on about this boy she liked, but of course refused to tell me his name. Not that I really cared. So she's talking and I'm kind of zoning and saying "yeah, yeah," listening more to the zoom of the cars that passed us by on the road leading back to our complex.
"Have you ever masturbated John?" she asked. My face burst with a red blush as if someone had pelted me with tomatoes. I couldn't imagine why she would ever ask something like that!
"Um. No." I coughed, gripping the thick strap of my messenger bag.
"What? NEVER?" she repeated.
"N-No. Jeez, why do you wanna know?" I pushed my glasses up, not looking at the girl. She shrugged.
"It's pretty nice if you ask me."
"Huh?" my blush darkened and my glasses nearly fell from my face as it contorted with horrified confusion.
"Well it's a stress reliever, and you don't need to worry if the other person will leave you when you're done." she explained.
"I guess that's true..."
I let the conversation slow down there, not interested in continuing, but Jade's words stuck with me. Finally, in my tenth grade year, I decided it was time. So I tried it, tried to see what all the hype was about this orgasm thing. I was in the shower as I came, wincing as I watched my fluids going down the drain. I still didn't understand.
There was no white hot light. My body didn't tingle with electricity. I wasn't lost in a rapture of pleasure. Sure it was alright, but my experience did not seem to live up to the grand tales my peers had fed to me. What was I missing?
I sometimes would try again, to see if maybe my body just wasn't mature enough, but nothing ever changed. I would always be left feeling dirty and disappointed. Orgasm had its perks, but it was never something I sought other than to try proving to myself that I might be normal. This only hurt me. I had convinced myself that sex was something I had to do. It wasn't normal to just. Not want sex. It was in fact wrong, if the words of my friends and fellow students meant anything at all.
And so I slept with my best friend, Dave Strider. It had been horrible for both us. That is the effects, not the actual sex. Dave is what I would call a sex god, but that's another story. No matter how good the sex was, I could never really find the true enjoyment of it that everyone else talked about. It hurt Dave more than me I think.
One day I finally cracked. Dave had hugged me, hands sliding to my inner thighs from the back. I pushed him hard, punched and cried.
"No more!" I remember saying, curled up on his bed. Dave held me until I could explain it.
"I'm not a homosexual Dave..." I said, a hot mug of tea in between my hands. I could see the sudden stiffness of Dave's shoulders and quickly continued. "I mean. I'm not. Sexual. Like, in general." Dave removed his glasses, revealing his red ringed eyes. I gulped, looking into his eyes was intimidating because I never usually got to see them.
"I'm asexual..."
"Fuck, John..." he sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair and letting his head fall back.
We broke up after that. I loved Dave, but not that way. I couldn't give him what he needed. It was simple really. Dave was a physical type of partner, expressing his love through sex and touching. He just wanted to be felt and received. I however was, and still am, a romantic lover. Sex was not something I could comprehend, not something I desired.
Dave and I had dated for nearly two months, and had sex twice. I shot him down most nights and would avoid him in situations that might flair a sexual encounter. It might be hard for someone to understand how I could dislike a staple of American life such as sex, but I did.
Being asexual reminded me of yogurt. As a child, I couldn't handle dairy very well so Mom of course kept it out of the house. Jade would go on and on about how good it was, even waving her yogurt cups in my face. I must have gotten over my lactose intolerance, at least to an acceptable level, and so it was time to try this famed yogurt.
I bought the good stuff, Danimals. None of that Betty Crocker Yoplait shit. I sat with Jade, Dave, and Rose, all of them in anticipation. I gently peeled back the top of the yogurt cup as if I were unveiling my new daughter, Casey, from her baby blanket after hours of my wife being in intense labor. Taking a huge spoonful, I shoved the yogurt into my mouth, Jade's eyes wide. I swallowed and shrugged.
"Anyone want the rest of this?" I asked, offering the yogurt to my friends. They all looked as disappointed as I felt.
Sex was my yogurt, and always would be. I simply couldn't indulge in something I didn't enjoy. I don't eat yogurt, and I don't have sex. Now who's ever heard of someone being dumped for not eating yogurt? No one, that's who.
Karkat and I had been dating for two and a half months when he began to advance. It was subtle at first. You know, the occasional butt-grab, a lingering touch, a goodbye kiss that turned into a hello kiss. And then he became bolder. He pinned me to the bed in his apartment, pressing his knee between my thighs.
"S-Stop it Karkat!" I yelled, my fingers digging into his shoulders and eyes fixed on his. His movements slowed as he saw the solidity of my words in my eyes. He was frozen.
"Oh." he sat back, head hung low. "Fuck John. Sorry."
After that day, I admit I may have been a bit skittish around my short boyfriend. (He might be tiny in size but shit he packs quite the punch) Now we were here, with Karkat staring me down, demanding an answer. I didn't want to say it. I didn't want to end the best thing that had ever happened to me, or to Karkat. But. He wanted an answer.
"Fucking say something, fuckass." the heat in Karkat's words dwindled. My eyes shot up, meeting his. Karkat's anger drained from his face until the only thing left was pure despair.
"Karkat...?" I couldn't find the words.
"I said I was fucking sorry John." he said softly.
"I forgave you for that, remember?" Karkat shook his head.
"You obviously did fucking not!" he snapped, making me flinch. I bit my lip with buck teeth.
"I didn't mean to avoid you Karkat...I'm sorry." I said, reaching out my hands and gingerly taking hold of Karkat's. He attempted to pull his hands away, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Don't fuck with me John!" his voice cracked, hoarse from his constant shouting. I held his hands tight until he opened his eyes again. "Just fucking say it!"
"Say what...?" I asked, stroking Karkat's small hands with my thumbs as I held them. I could see Karkat's shoulders drop and his face relax. He shook his head, refusing to look at me.
"You don't want to have sex with me. Its fucking obvious." he said. "I'm no fucking Nic Cage. I'm not cool. You're fucking bored with me, John! JUST SAY IT." he tried again to pull his hands away, flailing aimlessly, but I held them tight until his fit ended. Our hands fell back onto the cushions, both of us panting from the exertion of pulling and equal parts stubbornness. When Karkat's head hung safely in defeat, my hands flew to his face. I lifted him, kissing him softly.
"You're the most handsome guy I've ever seen Karkat, so shut the fuck up." I smiled widely. He blushed, grumbling and trying to look away but my hands held his face fixed towards mine. "You already know how I feel."
"Then fucking why John? Huh?" he scowled, looking close to tears. A puff of air left my lungs as I sighed and my hands fell from the smaller man's face. It was now or never.
"I'll tell you," I said, eyes falling to my empty hands. "But you might not want to be with me after I do."
"We made it this far. I doubt anything could break us up now." Karkat said, though his voice was pessimistic. I nibbled my lip, trying to remember all the words.
"I don't...I don't want sex." I pushed the words from my buck toothed mouth and forced my eyes up to meet Karkat's. Brown eyes searched blue, my breath caught in my throat. "Karkat, I'm asexual."
There was silence as Karkat let the words sink in. The slow way his eyebrows drew downwards and a dark growl erupted from his throat was nearly comical, despite the serious situation. He was like a volcano ready to explode at any moment.
"THE FUCK DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING KEEPING THIS TO YOUR NOOKSUCKING SELF." he spat. "JESUS CHRIST JOHN, WHAT AM I, A FUCKING THINK PAN READER?" I giggled even as Karkat was screaming. Think-pan was something our dear stoner friend Gamzee had begun saying a few years ago. According to Karkat, the word had somehow snuck into his vocabulary when no one was looking. "I DO NOT READ PIES YOU FUCKASS! I COULD HAVE REALLY MESSED YOU UP. LIKE HI EVERYONE I'M JOHN EGBERT AND I THINK IT'S A SMART IDEA NOT TO TELL MY FUCKING BOYFRIEND I DON'T WANT TO HAVE GODDAMN SEX. SO THEN HE CAN THINK THAT I DO WANT IT AND FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF ME EVEN THOUGH I DON'T. THE SHIT THAT I AM SEEING HERE IS RIDICULOUS. IT'S AS IF SHIT IS SIMPLY FLOWING FROM YOUR HEAD, A SHIT WATERFALL I DARE SAY. SHALL I SEND OUT INVITATIONS SO ALL OF OUR FRIENDS CAN COME AND DRINK FROM YOUR FUCKERY FOUNTAIN OF THE HIGHEST QUALITY SHIT IN ALL THE WORLD?"
By now my giggles had become outright laughter as Karkat's face began to turn red with his shouting, but still he continued. I watched him rage for a moment longer before leaping onto the man. My arms hugged him tight as we toppled over on the couch, Karkat's face blushing with a mixture of lack of oxygen and our close quarters. My lips crashed into his, silencing the string of curses that had previously been pouring from his mouth. Karkat accepted the kiss, all of his anger lost in a moment. His hands slid into my hair and gripped it gently.
"Thank you Karkat." I said after breaking the kiss. He sighed, a rare smile gracing his smile.
"I thought I'd done something. I thought I...fuck I thought I hurt you." he nuzzled his nose against mine.
"Not at all." I reassured him, but worry fell on my features heavy. "Are you really okay with this...?" I asked. Karkat pulled away, pushing us into a sitting position so he could look me properly in the eyes.
"I'm fucking peachy as shit with it." he growled, poking me angrily in the shoulder. "Love is about way fucking more than shoving things up your ass. I may be one angry son of a bitch but I am NOT selfish John." his eyes softened. "We can make this work." My heart skipped a beat as he kissed me softly. "Don't wanna loose you..." he mumbled. I pulled Karkat into a tight hug. He'd never say it, but Karkat was the single huggiest, clingiest person I'd ever met. He'd let a sort of cat like purr rumble whenever I held him, letting me know he was happy. Now was no exception to that. I petted his head affectionately.
"But if you ever...want help with that sort of thing." I said, eyes drifting to the TV. We'd missed a large chunk of the episode but that was okay, this was our fourth time re-watching the series. "I can help you out."
Karkat pulled away, a confused glare on his face. "Whut." he asked, obviously not understanding how an asexual could say such a thing.
"Well I don't want to have sex myself but I see no problem with helping you get off." I shrugged my shoulders, the tiniest blush visible on my boyfriend's cheeks.
"I see." was all he said before snuggling back into my chest. I giggled, petting his back happily.
"You're like a giant cat, Karkat." I laughed.
"Don't you dare say it fuckass." he grumbled angrily.
"Beep-beep meow!" I said, expecting a punch to the groin. Instead Karkat just tightened his grip on me and mumbled something into my chest, the vibrations causing me to laugh more.
"Hey Karkat!" I whisper-yelled, poking the overgrown cat until he lifted his head to look at me. "I love you!" His face flushed instantly.
"I fucking love you too John now stop it with the sappy shit!" he glared, quickly turning his head away so he could watch Sherlock, or perhaps just avoid looking at me. I couldn't help it. I was so happy that I nearly snuggled him to death I was holding him so tightly.
"We can make this work."
He didn't want to leave me, he was okay with this. This, me and him, would work out. He'd make sure of it, fight for it. He wasn't just okay with me being asexual, he was encouraging it. My hand found his and our fingers laced perfectly together, hearts quickly falling in sync with each other. We didn't need sex to be in love, this was enough. In fact, it was more than enough.
Author's Notes-
John being asexual is definitely my head cannon. Hope you liked this! And maybe this even taught you something! Oh and please leave a review, I love those. Hah.
-AppleLove