You bellow triumphantly, and Sollux squeaks in surprise beneath you. You are cheek-to-cheek, nose-to-nose, eye-to-eye; the blue lens of his shades is smashed painfully in between your faces. The rush of victory is coursing through you, sending you soaring. You start to laugh. In this moment, you are the most powerful, invincible hero that has ever lived.
"Got anything to say for yourself now, Captor?" you demand condescendingly, prolonging the moment, unable to resist the urge to gloat.
"Yes, yes – " he gasps. "You win! I give! I – ah!" His voice jumps an octave as you jerk his head to the side and shake him viciously, just because you can. "I give I give I give!"
"Still want to call me cute?"
"Yes! No! Wait – " His eyes go wide as you show your displeasure by biting at his cheek. Your teeth scrape across his slick skin, unable to gain purchase. "I don't know!" he wails. "What's the answer you want me to say? I'll say anything, just tell me what you want me to say!"
You smirk. "What I want," you growl, pinning his wrists on either side of his head with slow deliberation, "is for you to shut the fuck up."
He does so instantly, his jaw snapping closed with an audible clack.
This is it. The moment that every adolescent troll dreams of: to have another troll hornlocked and helpless beneath you. This is what it's all about. This is the bit in the romcom where it tastefully fades to darkness, and then cuts back in the next morning to reveal a pair of bruised, bloodied and deliriously happy newly-matesprits. You are a few thin layers of clothing away from the real deal.
But you hesitate. Because even as you pant in the heat of the moment, even after how hard you fought to get here, you are dimly aware that this isn't the way you pictured this happening. It's too soon, too out of the blue. You never made a decision about whether or not Sollux is the right one for you; you just got swept up in the tide of events, and now here you are. An unwelcome realization breaks over you like a glass of cold water: a scant hour ago, you weren't even sure if you wanted Sollux to kiss you.
You're only five sweeps old, for fuck's sake. This is insanity.
Sollux detects your hesitation immediately, of course. There's no way he could miss it, not the way you're pressed against him. His blue eye narrows slightly beneath the shades. "What is it, KK?" he murmurs urgently. "You know what to do, right?" His tongue darts out and flicks against your lips, and his eyes flutter shut. "Anything you want to," he breathes.
You shiver convulsively, but still you hold back. "Are you really sure about this?" you gasp.
Sollux growls. He feints towards your chin, making as if to try to break your hold on him. Your reaction is immediate and instinctive. You slam his head back down and tighten your hornlock, twisting his neck into an awkward position. He yelps, then giggles hoarsely, caught between pain and desire. "See?" he says. He laps at the salty sweat on your cheek in between words. "You want to."
He's right. The next time that tongue comes out, you are ready for it. You catch it between your teeth and hold it, tightening your grip bit by bit. Sollux gasps, then cries out when you draw blood. You go just a little bit deeper to prove your point and hold him there, tasting and watching as the yellow liquid flows downwards and spatters his face. His eyes roll back in his head and his claws dig into the backs of your hands as he arches upwards. Only when he squeaks and writhes desperately against you do you release him. His tongue snaps back into his mouth and he stills, shaking.
Your conquest is complete. Beneath you, Sollux is radiating submission in every way. You've read about this moment in novels, but now you are stunned by how poorly those descriptions stack up to the reality. In real life, submission is so much more than a mere posture. It's also the soft, halting, desperate mewling sounds that escape from his lips as he waits for you. Submission has a scent to it, a sharp, sweet edge in the shallow breaths he pants frantically against your lips. It has a feel to it, something that sets you tingling everywhere you and he are touching. The mangled clothing between you is no barrier whatsoever; your skin is on fire. It has a taste to it, an indescribably delicious tang that coats every inch of his skin. Your tongue cannot get enough, you don't think you will ever have enough; it's maddening, overwhelming, pushing you to the very brink of frenzy. Submission speaks to all five of your senses, and it does so in a voice loud enough to drown out all else.
Your claws could make quick work of that pesky clothing. You would never even need to let Sollux out of the hornlock. Mere seconds from now, you could have him. All of him.
Yours.
Amidst the symphony of overwhelming sensation, a note of discord. There was something. This thing. From earlier.
Earlier feels like another planet. You can barely remember if there was an earlier. The whole universe is this, you and Sollux and Sollux begging for you with every pore of his being. This is all there is, all there was, all there ever will be.
No. It was important. You should remember.
You seize onto that thought with both fists and refuse to let it go. You claw your way inch by perilous inch back toward rational thought.
Sollux shudders and emits a thin, high-pitched keen of abject frustration. "KK, come on!" he hisses through gritted teeth. He pulls his wrists free in order to slip his hands under your shirt and up your spine, setting your skin ablaze in the wake of his claws. His tongue is tracing your lips again, daring you with each slick, heated touch to force it into stillness. Every instinct in your body aches to lunge for the bait.
You clamp down on instinct, clinging to the ragged edge of self-control. You manage to tilt your head a tiny bit, and then a tiny bit more, and then the feeling of his tongue against your skin is no longer completely overpowering.
"No," you somehow choke out between gasps. "It's – too soon!" A few more agonizingly long seconds drag by before you can manage the rest. "Too sudden!"
Sollux screams.
Just like that, the white-hot connection is severed. The charged, searing energy that glued you to him, that set all of your senses on fire, vanishes in an instant as his submission evaporates.
It's agonizing. You are asphyxiating; the air is being sucked right out of your lungs. You are dying of dehydration in the middle of a desert, and someone just knocked the life-saving glass of ice water out of your grip. You are on your knees, watching its shattered remnants seep away into the sand and take your hope for survival with it.
It feels like death. Your voice joins Sollux's in a howl of lament.