Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are in heat. You and all your friends have reached the age to start filling buckets, and fuck if you aren't uncomfortable as all hell right now. You are currently sitting next to your matesprit, a certain John Egbert, watching some shitty movie. Actually, you're not sure if it's shitty or not because you can't pay attention to anything over this gog-forsaken burning under your skin.
You and John have been together for several months now, but you had not progressed past what he referred to as "second base." Neither of you had felt much desire to; you had not yet reached full sexual maturity, and Egderp here didn't seem interested in pursuing anything further—probably part of his whole "not a homosexual" thing that he still clung to (even when your tongue was down his throat).
And that had been fine for a while. But now you are eight sweeps old and there is a growing restlessness inside you, itching at your skin wherever it comes into contact with anything else. Right now, that anything happens to be John's right arm slung around your shoulders, left hand across his lap and brushing gently against your thigh, and the couch beneath you. It is getting increasingly hard to sit still and you can't hear a fucking thing over the blood rushing through your ears. Evidently John notices your fidgeting and turns a concerned face toward you.
"You okay, Karkat?"
"Peachy," you snarl mildly, not sure if he'll be willing to help with your… problem.
"You seem distracted. Is the movie boring?" He runs his hand down your arm, and you squirm under the contact.
You can't believe yourself. Karkat motherfucking Vantas does not squirm. You do not get uncomfortable. You are the epitome of grouchy stoicism and oh god John's palm is on your thigh and you want to jump his bones right then and there. All you can think about is how much you want to grab this boy and fuck him into next week, but you refuse to lose your self-control.
"Karkat, if you're feeling… sick," he runs a hand against your forehead, beginning to show signs of perspiration; he reaches for the remote and turns off the movie. "You're burning up!" His blue eyes grow wide, and he places his other hand against your neck. Fuck. You shudder as his knuckles brush against the juncture between your ear and jaw, and he presses his forehead to yours.
"Karkat, you're not yelling at me or anything! What's wrong?" His face is tantalizingly close, and you can't help but flick your tongue against the tip of his nose. John lets out a giggle. "Okay, seriously, you're not acting like yourself."
That's it. That stupid fucking laugh pushes you over the edge and you're on the attack. Grabbing John's lips with your own, you shove the boy onto his back and run your hands furiously up and down his sides.
"Mmph, Karkat!" he yelps in surprise. Yes, you need to hear more of his noises. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and nip at the tender skin.
"Nn-ahh… what are you–?" Drawing a hand up to his face, you grasp his jaw and press your lips to his once more. You're hot all over and somewhere in your mind you think you should probably take your clothes off, but there's no time for that now; there's a moaning young man underneath you that needs ravishing.
You press your hips into his and he lets out a gasp, feeling your bulge pressing against his crotch.
"Karkat, I don't–" he starts, but he is cut off as his body writhes up against yours. You feel the heat pooling in your center, and pull away from his face briefly only to tear your shirt off.
Then you're back to grunting against his lips, rubbing your hands into his hips, tugging at his shirt, hands everywhere, mouth traveling to his face, his jaw, his throat. You lift his shirt off, press your hands against his chest and let out a breathy moan. His legs are pinned between your thighs and you are sure you can feel his arousal growing beneath you.
"What–"
"Shut up, fuckhead," you growl into his mouth. You press your tongue between his parted lips, pushing against his teeth and palate and tongue. Now one of your hands is brushing against his chest again, seeking out that particular–ah, found it.
"Ahh!" John moans shakily as you run your fingers across a tender nipple, other hand grazing his stomach. Removing your mouth from his, you drag your head down to his chest where you wrap your lips around the raised flesh.
"Nngh–oh god," he's mumbling incoherently, which you take as a cue to press your palm against the lump in his pants. "Karkat!"
There is something desperate in his voice, yet some hesitance remains. You pull back and look at him. Struggling to gather your bearings, you finally speak.
"Do you… want to keep going?" you ask, unsure as to whether you'll even accept no as an answer. There is sweat on his face and his eyes are wide, cheeks flushed and pupils dilated.
"I don't… what…" he stammers, seemingly unable to form a coherent sentence.
"Fuck, I want you so bad, Egbert," you manage to pant, kind of hoping you don't sound like a complete idiot but also not really caring.
"Karkat," he says, voice quiet but full of compassion. "Why… why now?"
You take a few more deep breaths, trying to clear your mind. "I… I'm in heat, dipshit."
John's face grows confused, then his eyes widen with understanding. "Ohhh… so you want… I mean–"
"Yes, Egbert, I need to pail something," you breathe out with a roll of your eyes. "And it looks like," you continue, glancing pointedly at the bulge between his legs, "you do, too."
Even more blood manages to make its way to John's face, and you imagine that you must look pretty similar.
"So are we gonna…" He can't seem to finish. You just want to get on with the damn show.
"John," you say tersely. "I want. To fuck you." You emphasize this point by pressing a knee to his groin. He doesn't seem entirely averse to the idea, because he lets out a whine and wraps his arms around your neck, pulling your lips back to his.
"I… would like that," he mutters into your ear. Then, to your surprise, his hands wander up into your hair and grab your horns.
"Gah–John! Fuck!" you gasp as his fingers rub against the sensitive nubs on your head. You swear you can feel electricity tingling straight through your body, horns seemingly wired straight into your brain. John trails a finger from the tip of each horn to its base. You shudder and dig your hands into his hips, pure ecstasy buzzing through your head.
Finally regaining some thought, your attention turns to the growing pressure in your pants, and John doesn't look to be faring much better. You immediately fumble with the button at the top of his jeans, and his hands fly to do the same for yours.
Pants undone, you both kick off the restrictive garments and all that's left between you is your boxers. You rub your bulge against John through the fabric; he keens under your touch and fuck if that isn't the most attractive sound you've ever heard and oh god you want to fucking pail this boy so bad you just want to be inside him fuck.
You draw your hands down to John's waist and tug at the undergarments; he complies, and you slip them off, shortly following with your own. You were more-or-less prepared for what you would find underneath; the Rose girl had been most helpful in finding you new reading material pertaining to human romance. All the same, coming face-to-face with John's erection is… enthralling.
Unable to restrain yourself, you bow your head and give an experimental lick. This seems to have a most pleasing effect.
"Nngh, Karkat!" John buries a hand in your hair, stroking your scalp and rubbing circles near the bases of your horns. Cautiously, you take the tip into your mouth and run your tongue against the leaking slit. John's hand clenches and a low groan escapes his throat.
You take even more of him in, careful of your teeth. His breathing quickens and you bring one hand to his base, stroking gently at first, but getting more and more fervent. Licking and sucking you can feel John tensing up; he's surely reaching his breaking point. You remove your mouth from him.
"Shit, Karkat," he whines. You shut him up with a kiss, then poise your bulge under his. A single slick tentacle stretches to lightly caress his entrance. John throws his head back and gasps, "Fuck!" The appendage gently presses its way inside the writhing boy, and you press a tender kiss to his lips.
"Relax," you whisper, and he complies. The tentacle explores deeper and is soon joined by another. John tenses briefly, then moans and eases his muscles. You begin to rock into him, and several other tentacles wrap themselves around John's member.
A final tentacle decides to join the first two, and John is completely filled up; he gasps as they writhe against his walls, groans as the others pump his erection. You begin to pick up the pace, thrusting more forcefully and stroking more feverishly. John brings his hands to your horns once more, dragging his fingers up and down them while panting out incoherent sounds.
"Fuck, Karkat, oh god, I can't–Aaahh!" He howls in pleasure as you slam into his most sensitive spot. You do so again and again, eating up his cries and planting kisses everywhere your mouth can find, licking and nipping and sucking.
"Ohh, god… John, oh fuck!" You are slamming into the boy rapidly, pumping his member hard and you can feel the heat shifting, concentrating, and you kiss him again sloppily, run your hands through his hair, drag your tongue across his jaw and suck on his neck and–
"Karkat, oh god, I–I'm gonna–fuuuck!" You bring one hand down to help finish him off, stroking his erection ardently and he thrusts up into your hand and releases, entire body racking with shudders as his muscles tighten all over, and it's enough to push you over the edge as well, genetic material spilling from your bulge, some filling John up and the rest flowing onto his stomach, leaving a puddle of red-tinged fluid.
You moan with your final thrusts, crying out as you release. "John!"
Spent and exhausted, you collapse onto him, feeling your sticky material between your bellies. You grasp his face between your hands and stare into his sky blue eyes, then press your lips against the corner of his mouth. He turns his head and meets your lips with his, face flush and breathing heavy.
"Oh god, Karkat…" John doesn't seem to know what to say.
"I… I know," you respond, even though you're not quite sure what you're talking about. "That… that was…" You can hardly speak from how out of breath you are, but you feel a dopey grin crawl across your face. He smiles back at you with those big stupid teeth, then sighs.
"God I love you," he finally manages.
You bury your face against his neck, smile still playing at your lips.
"Dumbass… I love you, too."