Chapter 2
Things got kind of crazy when Eridan's older brother offered Karkat a ride home and ended up using him as a virgin sacrifice in order to score a record deal.
Then, a mindless scribble and subsequent curse word ended with Karkat in the lap of a demon who is about to bone him.
Last but not least, a graphically detailed pamphlet about Faustian contracts fell on Karkat's lap and is about to inform him about the parameters of demon sex.
And that's what you missed on "According to Karkat".
Fingers trembling, Karkat continued to flip through the pages of the pamphlet, which was now proving to me much more of a booklet than a brochure as page after page of kama-sutra-level demon fucking was revealed to him in glorious Ikea cartoon figure detail. Karkat would never look at Swedes the same way again.
Meanwhile, the demon—Gamzee—was making content-sounded growling hums as he rested his chin on Karkat's shoulder like they were the best of buddies. Dave would do that sometimes, and it would drive Karkat absolutely insane from both the way Strider's jaw would dig into his shoulder whenever he talked and the distracting scent of clove oranges radiating off of him like he was a character in a bad romance novel.
But as of this moment, Karkat was far less inclined to shove Gamzee off of his shoulder like he would with Dave, mostly due in part to the shiny rows of needle teeth several inches from his jugular.
As he flipped past the dead-eyed, blithely smiling Ikea stickmen contorted into something called "THE STICKY DRAGON" (Terezi would like that), Karkat tried to calm himself by thinking of all the ways this could have gone exponentially worse. Not that it wasn't already exponentially worse as far as rides home went. But at least the demon had assumed an admittedly attractive human form and Karkat wasn't about to be the babymama of a tentacle-bearing Eldritch Horror (Rose would like that).
Or, you know. At least he hoped.
Finally, the Ikea men seemed to have exhausted themselves—the pages upon pages of sex positions ended with "THE WHIRLYBIRD" and gave way to a neat little article.
Parameters of Contract Binding
Once the covenant is forged with both participants' soul signatures, the contractee is guaranteed their half of the bargain immediately. The contract must be consummated within thirteen days of the forging.
In order for consummation to be recognized, both participants much reach orgasm due to the assistance of one another. Full nudity and at least one instance of skin-on-skin contact are required of both parties. Kissing is not required. Penetration is not required.
List of acceptable situations include: unclothed frottage, handjobs, blowjobs, rimjobs, fingering of the vagina or anus, penetration of the vagina or anus, or intercrural sex (thigh sex).
NOTICE: Ocular Sex or "Skullfucking" is no longer an acceptable form of consummation as per the Respect of Skulls Act 1793.
Karkat set down the booklet on the bedside table made of charred bones and black marble, attempting not to let the pages rattle with the trembling of his fingers. He felt the demon turn his head towards him, breath hot in Karkat's ear, although he remained silent.
Trying not to let the wet-hot breath settle into a tremble, Karkat attempted to clear his mind while he had the chance: the demon had brought him here to carry out the consummation although Karkat apparently had thirteen days for the deed to be done. But, all things considered, it was just better to get it out of the way rather than crumble under nearly-two-weeks of fretting and anxiety. If Karkat knew himself—and he liked to think he did, at least a little—he'd just about kill himself with worrying anyway, and then all bets were off (as according to the green M&Ms disclaimer). It was easier to just let it happen now. Just lay back and think of Da—England. Daengland.
Karkat's heart was hammering in his chest and he released a giggle that was far closer to manic than nervous. What a beautiful time to avoid coming to terms with the crush he'd had for four years. To his surprise, a massive hand slithered up his back and cupped him around his shoulder. Gamzee pulled Karkat closer to him, pressing his cheek up against his and rubbing it in a circle.
"You all up and chill, bro?" He rasped, "Don't need to get all up in your business now. Get your chill on—we can crack a Faygo if you'd like."
"What?" Karkat all but hiccupped, his voice doing its best impression of puberty. Karkat's Greatest Hits 2009.
"A Faygo, motherfucker," the demon explained as if it were the simplest concept on earth. Karkat had no idea what kind of satanic…thing a "Faygo" was. Gamzee suggested cracking it. The skull of a lesser demon, maybe?
Before the human could protest, Gamzee had released him and had rolled sideways off of the bed. He crawled across the floor in a way that much more 'drunk roll' than it was 'demonic slither' and popped open a little dark box that Karkat had assumed was a vault full of virgin tears, but was actually just a mini-fridge. Inside were stacks of glass bottles all laid sideways, bottlecaps facing front. Gamzee pulled out two bright red ones and closed the door, using his fangs to pry off the bottlecaps. He used his freakishly long arms to set them onto of the mini-fridge and took to his feet before gathering them up and delivering one to Karkat.
The human turned the bottle in his hands, squinting as recognition poked at the side of his head. He'd seen these whenever Dave's brother Dirk had dragged them to BevMo to get a shit load of obscure orange sodas. Assuming they were safe, he took a tentative sip and found that the drink was pleasantly not-blood-flavored, but rather on the refreshing side. Still, it was pretty sweet, and he would probably vomit from drinking more than two in a row. Nervously he nursed his beverage as Gamzee ambled about the room, digging through a giant steamer trunk full of vinyls that probably pre-dated Karkat's dad.
As the demon fucked around with his records, Karkat stared down into the neck of his bottle of Faygo, like the strawberry soda held all the secrets of the world. There were no dawning realizations, however, just the usual onslaught of howling embarrassment that would usually end up with Karkat contorting himself into positions that would make Linda Blair jealous and spewing mix-and-match cuss words that typically made Equius foam at the mouth.
However, this was not an appropriate setting for "Karkat Tantrum Ballet", which only helped Karkat to internalize his anxiety in a violent whirlpool of catastrophic thought that started with "demon sex" and ended with "dead and/or homeless".
Karkat had never had sex before, a well-known fact amongst his friend group that had undoubtedly ended up with him smeared over the sacrifice bridge. He'd dated Terezi on-and-off from sixth to ninth grade, but that had led to nothing more than hand-holding and a few awkward kisses. He'd tried to tongue kiss her at homecoming their freshman and ended up with a bruise on his tongue (apparently this was possible) for his troubles. Ever since then, things had gotten awkward and Karkat busied himself in theater tech and screaming obscenities at Dave Strider (aforementioned crush) for the next four years. Although he liked to think of himself as romantically savvy (see: every harlequin romance novel paperback squirreled away under his bed), Karkat still had a propensity to fly into hysterics every time his own romantic investments were brought up—even more so when sex was on the table. Eight-year-old Karkat had about launched himself out of his beanbag chair when his father had come to him one day with a book on puberty and sex.
And here he was, about to lose his virginity (potentially only kind of he guessed?) to a complete stranger.
Also, you know, a fucking demon.
Karkat started at the sound of an electric guitar. He turned his head, all about hyperventilating, as Gamzee took a step away from a record player perched on one of the black pieces of furniture decking the room. He was bobbing his head along to "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band".
"You like that shit bro?" He asked, grinning toothily at Karkat, who would have expected to lose his virginity to the sound of Damien Rice's plaintive crooning (particularly "The Blower's Daughter" as Dave dragged his lips down Karkat's stomach), not Ringo Starr experiencing an album-length acid trip on LP.
"Uh," said Karkat. Gamzee crawled onto the bed and sidled up to Karkat, who took a moment to get a good, hard look at him.
His skin was even, tan, and flawless, unreal purple eyes half-lidded and framed by dark curls. His overall expression erred on the side of dopey, made unnerving by the tips of razor-sharp fangs peeking out between his dark lips. Karkat couldn't tell much in accordance to body type, but Gamzee was tall and—while floating in his dirty hoodie and jeans—seemed a little on the lanky side. Overall, he was attractive in that generic 'hot stoner' way, but the dark horns jutting from the mess of curls called up images of that smoke-in-water creature with its perfect-circle eyes and massive maw. Karkat outright trembled like a heroine in one of his shit romance novels ("His Dark Intentions" Scarlet Romance Novels Special Edition Master's Series #49).
Gamzee seemed to catch onto the movement and leaned back into the pillows, his half-lidded eyes taking on a literal glow as his lips curled up. Karkat's felt his heart turn into cottage cheese.
The demon reached out and brushed his fingers down the side of Karkat's face in a bizarrely affectionate gesture, "So," he began in that chest-rumbling voice, buzzing and charismatic, "You up to getting it on here and now, bro?"
Karkat's hysteric laugh exacted its revenge, along with several other surprise laughs of the same caliber. Gamzee smiled at his laughter although it was bizarrely genuine, not mocking.
'Shit, let's be a romance novel!' Dave's voice said in Karkat's head, shockingly out of place in this dingy room in hell, clear as a bell amongst Lucy who was currently In the Sky with Diamonds.
"Yeah!" Karkat all but shrieked, "Fuck it, yeah—let's do it!"
(THIS SCENE HAS BEEN REDACTED DUE TO 'S GUIDELINES. PLEASE IMAGINE A LOT OF SEXY DEMON SEX.)
They'd been laying still for a while when the LP ran out and began to skip, jerking Karkat back into full consciousness. He realized that he'd all but dozed off and Gamzee had just returned to the bed with a wet towel, which he was currently going over Katkat's thighs with.
"You don't have to," Karkat said sleepily. Gamzee shook his head and made an 'it's no big deal' kind of gesture, pulling Karkat out of the puddle of cum he'd left on the bed. Well that mattress was done for.
It wasn't until Gamzee was toweling Karkat dry that the gravity of the situation hit him.
It was like receiving a semi-truck to the bottom of his stomach. What the fuck? What the fuck? Cronus had stabbed him and left him for dead—he'd been contracted to a fucking demon—he'd just pretty much lost his goddamn virginity—and to top it all off he was naked.
Karkat grabbed his pants and boxers away from Gamzee, hopping into them with a little more gusto than he usually would use for dressing himself. He yanked his teeshirt and sweater over his head, heartrate increasing by the second. He could feel it in his throat, like a snake of bad news had welled itself up through his stomach.
'You done fucked up now, kiddo,' it said.
Karkat stood in the middle of what he could only assume was Gamzee's room, wishing desperately to be home in his own bed—not one Gamzee had conjured up. The demon was sitting on the bed behind him, shirtless and looking pensive.
"You all good?"
"Yeah." Karkat said thinly, although it probably came across more as weak. "Can I go home now?"
Gamzee shrugged, lolling his neck from side to side, "Don't suppose why not."
'I'll never see him again.' Karkat thought, and instantly felt selfish. It wasn't as if he was going to miss the demon, it was just pity for himself. Losing it to a stranger he'd never see again. Whatever the situation that was still pretty low on the list of things Karkat wanted to do with his life.
"How do I—?"
"Right through that door, bro."
Gamzee gestured and where he pointed a black door had suddenly materialized. Karkat jumped a little before pulling the drawstrings on his hoodie a little tighter.
"I guess," Karkat choked. He could already feel the tears stinging the back of his nose. "Well, bye."
"Bye, bro." Gamzee said casually. Karkat didn't bother looking back until he was through the door and found himself in his front yard. He turned around, suddenly face-to-face with the gate that led into his backyard. It was painted white and overgrown with jasmine, like it always was.
Everything about the room in hell—about that entire night—seemed so far away.
Karkat shuffled around the side of the house, digging in his pockets for his house keys. They weren't needed, however, because as soon as he activated the motion-sensor porch lights, his brother swung open the front door.
"Karkat," Kankri said, as aghast as ever, "Do you know what time it is?"
"Uh," Karkat replied eloquently.
"You have a cellphone for a reason."
Karkat's hand sought his pocket before he remembered Cronus had chucked it into the creek. But—oddly enough—it was there, back from the dead. Like him. He pressed the square button; 5:23 glowed back at him in white.
"Oh fuck me," Karkat swore, he looked up at Kankri, "Is Dad—."
"Asleep." Kankri replied as he stepped aside to let Karkat in, but not before making a great show of rolling his eyes. "He went to sleep at eleven. He said you're an adult and you can make good decisions, even if you stay out until morning."
Karkat looked at his shoes, not exactly sure if 'fucking a demon to save his own life' fell into the category of 'good decisions'. His dad was too good.
"I, personally, believe that as long as you're living under our father's roof, you should at least respect him enough to come home at a reasonable time." Kankri continued to lecture as they scaled the stairs. This time, Karkat made a great show of rolling his eyes, although it was behind his brother's back.
"Yes, I love you too, Kankri," Karkat said as they came to the top of the stairs. He paused, watching as his brother went towards his room. "Hey."
Kankri paused, hand perched upon the doorframe, "Yes?" He looked back at Karkat.
"Thank you." Karkat said quietly. "For staying up all night waiting for me."
Kankri frowned and turned fully towards Karkat, putting a hand on his shoulder, "Are… are you alright? Did something happen—?"
"Nothing happened." Karkat lied, not bothering to shake off his brother's hand, "I just. Appreciate it. You're a good brother."
Kankri scowled, "What happened?"
"Nothing, you chitin-infused cumstain." Karkat sniped, "Can't I tell my brother that I love him?"
Kankri looked at Karkat impassively, "You shouldn't drink so much."
'I thought about you while I was dying.' "Go fuck yourself."
The older Vantas heaved a dramatic sigh, turning back towards his bedroom door, "Goodnight, Karkat."
Karkat stomped towards his own room, "Night."
Very softly, so Karkat could hardly hear, Kankri said: "I love you, too, Karkat."