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It ended up being several more years on this flying rock than Rose's initial forecast, but she hasn't gotten any visions that something went wrong and everyone's fucked and there's been a notable lack of future Daves popping in to avert anything, so you're content to roll with it. Checking any of the viewports outside shows the green sun right there in the distance chilling in it's usual spot in wibbly spacetime behind you.
The game's not going anywhere in the meantime so you just have to be patient, and you've certainly got plenty of time to find a hobby or something. Bonus is that the extra time wasn't all that boring; the meteor flew through dreambubbles from time to time, introducing a ton of Trolls old and new and way too many younger doomed Daves.
One raises the question of how Karkat's doing. You say he's doing fine you guess? Other Dave sorta mask-smiles like you wouldn't recognize it, and an eyebrow raises a micron above your shades. His eyes are clear and active behind his own, rather than the milky blankness you found on everyone else.
Maybe he hadn't remembered he was dead yet, but to quote the wisdom of famed american baseball player Babe Ruth: "The timeless void between universes is a fickle and ever-shifting kaleidoscope of possibility, and generally super fuckin weird". The meteor passes out of the bubble before you can ask anything more.
It takes a while after that to turn the concept of you and Karkat over in your head. Past the initial shock of he’s a dude I dont like dudes oh jesus do I like dudes the idea of you two wasn't all that weird in an academic sense--if he could theoretically chill out and pull his head out of his ass a bit--but you've got your hands full with Terezi and to be honest you're pretty damn happy with that.
A few birthdays go by with silly shit alchemized or hand-made and a few 'happy birth-slash-wriggling-day's. You chased Karkat through the complex toting a beatbox blasting your own mix of happy birthday at him.
All said, pretty enjoyable so far.
Mostly.
Alright, your first attempt with Terezi at accomplishing what's known among the youth as "the nasty" was absolutely terrible. Seriously, like a horrific marathon of Egbert's entire movie collection crushed into the space of fifteen minutes of awkward exploration and breathy giggles. It was going great at first; you were making out, clothes were coming off, and everybody's hands were eagerly a-wandering. Sports metaphors about bases and goals were champing at the bit waiting to be thrown in anywhere they could find a spot in a sentence.
Then she laid hands on your junk. Which was also great (more than great actually) until your boner levels started rising. At about half mast she gasped and detached her tongue from your face to look. Well, turned her head from you to smell-see--you get the point man. She laughed nervously as it kept rising, and once your dick had achieved it's final ultimate form, she sort of stopped doing things and sat there sort of half-tangled with you.
She swallowed dryly, took a breath and swallowed again. Your dick twitched and she gasped lightly and let go.
Seconds passed in deafening silence.
Eventually you quietly asked "Everything okay over there, Terezi?" and she just let out a breathy laugh, a little too high-pitched. You could see worry pinched into her brow.
The mood never recovered, and you both ended up awkwardly re-dressing and making your escape.
That was it. The japanese anime penis inspection day had arrived and you'd disappointed the bag full of knives and coathangers disguised as the nurse who was actually your girlfriend. The vaunted Strider skills had fallen short, or at least you had.
God help you if Rose finds out--it would RUIN you. She'd be all over that info like a pack of hyenas on a quadriplegic antelope, and your days would be haunted forever by smug looks and low titters from the girl in the traffic-cone poncho.
Needless to say you're currently freaking the hell out.
The mental tirade you’d started on is interrupted when your door swooshes up into the wall to see yourself padding in easily.
"Yo."
"Sup."
Future Daves popping in to help out for non-emergencies had become a bit of a rarity, since there wasn't much hard work that required that many hands that you couldn't just pester someone else to help with 'in the now' so to speak. You stare each other down for a few tenths of a second before he--you--gets to the point.
"Got something for you." He brings up a captcha card with a dramatic flourish. "A present for later."
"Is it a crate full of dicks? Dammit man you know that's my one weakness."
"A veritable kryptonite to the chillest of dudes."
"Damn straight. So what actually is it?"
"..."
"Are you fucking kidding me."
- - - - - - - - - -
Here you are in your respiteblock, musing once again about irreconcilable differences and mulling over the fact that the previously enjoyable evening was so messily assassinated at your hands. More accurately, stewing in the shame that you eviscerated the mood being a wiggler about Dave's human bulge.
But how could you not? Even the more extreme salacious media you'd perused growing up wouldn't have come close to preparing you for something like that.
You mean there's no way that--how would that even work? Are all humans like that? You should warn Kanaya if that's the case--wait, no. Dave may just be an anomaly for his species, and revealing such personal information might make him more uncomfortable than you'd like. Your coolkid is a fragile creature, after all. Best to keep any leaks of evidence to a minimum.
You keep giggling as your mind passes over the scene again.
Dave's sweat lingering in your block isn't helping take your mind off of him and his enormous bulge, so you decide to take a walk.
- - - - - - - - - -
Alright deep breaths. You've got her attention, just get it out of the way and see what happens.
"Kanaya I'll be straight with you: I need your complete discretion on anything talked about here. Taken to your grave despite months of torture in some gangrene-ridden jungle in 'nam-tier shit, alright?"
You ignore the puzzled look and accept her silence as agreement, though you can almost hear her head going I Am Already Beginning To Regret Hearing Rose's Human Sibling-Slash-Mwahrail-Questionmark Out, which you also ignore.
"Okay so we're both macking on different species right--" If Kanaya had a drink she'd be spitting it, but you continue "--and there's no doubt a metric fuckton of questions floating around impudently slapping everyone that asking would be damn informative but you'd get smote dead by thor himself doing it, you get me?"
Her stare is boring a hole through the floor and down into the meteor below at this point.
"I'm thinking we don't really know each other well enough to care about talking about this kinda stuff as much as if we'd asked the relevant person or persons, so we could maybe trade tough questions."
The vampire looks like if she could ollie outie from her skin she'd have a trail of gore halfway across the complex by now. She's probably still considering it. You'd chosen to talk in-person to avoid one of you just clamming up and bailing (as easily), and to avoid making any incriminating chatlogs for Rose or Terezi to stumble onto.
You see blonde hair in the doorway and jump halfway out of your own skin before realizing it's just you. His shades are folded and tucked onto the collar of his--your shirt.
Ah shit, really?
You take a deep breath and follow suit, and door-Dave gives a thumbs up and blips out. You note his timestamp automatically.
"I get that this is outta nowhere, and I'm pretty sure we can both agree that this is the most terrible thing anyone could try and talk about by a margin the size of fucking jupiter, but there is literally nobody else I can ask about this kinda thing."
An uncomfortably long time passes before she looks up and starts slightly at your frankly illegal level of shadeslessness. She then actually considers the idea since you're being serious for once, taking a great many uncomfortable seconds.
"I-It Does Seem A Prudent Idea, At Least." The Troll cautiously clears her throat, "To Avoid Going In Blind, As The Human Saying Goes?"
You nod back. You're absolutely certain she can't hear the pulse thudding in your ears.
"What Sort Of Questions Did You Have In Mind?"
"What is the deal with the buckets." And she's gone. You don't even hear the door, Kanaya's just winked out of existence like goddamn Houdini.
Shit.
You'll have to find her later and apologize.
- - - - -
It takes a while, but after the initial drama the first of your official Talks had been spent feeling out what each other already knew about the other species and working past the horrific mortification of actually asking the important questions. Kanaya had seemingly raided Rose's rather large collection of tomes and found plenty of saucy material for later fantasies, but precious little by way of actual biology, while you were starting at square zero with shit like 'what the hell are shame globes i mean i assume they're like--'.
So Kanaya explained the differences for Trolls. Turns out it's not much, just size ratios between 'nooks', 'bulges', 'shame globes', and 'acid sacs'--as well as what exactly those were. There were a lot of pauses while she forced her embarrassment down or tried to parse how to better explain.
As luck would have it Kanaya DID have a schoolfeeding parcel textbook on Troll biology. Written in Alternian, because why would it be anything else. You borrowed it just in case pesterchum or one of the devices had a translate function for images or something (turns out it did, which was a bit spooky). It was about as helpful as an anatomy textbook on earth would be (so not much at all) but at least cleared up a lot of the mystery on what Terezi had going on downstairs.
Nothing sexier than diagrams.
You're glad you got the bisexual panic over with in the bubbles.
For your part it took some time to fill in what (admittedly little) you knew on female anatomy, since you lack the relevant equipment for any firsthand knowledge and weren't too big on the dating game in the thirteen years of pasty rap-ninja training before SBURB. This puzzled Kanaya, which puzzled you.
So things segued into a discussion on the differences between human guys and girls head-Rose chimes in with 'sexual dimorphism' and she can shut up, followed by equal looks of shock and horror when you had to explain what a penis was and the female's general lack of one. In the end you told her to file that under "no user manual included, call the manufacturer for directions".
The two of you agreed that there was no fucking way you were going to show each other your junk, so you opted for the much more reasonable choice of trading porn (both of you pointing out that most sizes and reactions are exaggerated to sell the scene, so at least you've got that much in common). You sent her off with a few vids you considered decently realistic--mostly lesbian with a few straight in case she was really curious about what a dick was.
By the next Talk you were enormously relieved to know that at least Troll reproduction involves fucking so you're not completely in the dark there, and also completely aware of why buckets were a thing and jesus christ that's a hell of a bar to reach. Definitely something you'd need to temper Terezi's expectations on before anything serious.
"I Must Say Dave, You Did Warn Me That Things Were Exaggerated But I Did Not Expect It Would Be Comically So." You're always shocked at how clear and precise her english is. You should get her into rap, it'd probably be great. Maybe chap-hop or something.
"Generally when they say nine inches they really mean like six and a half--maybe seven, yeah."
Her airy mood dissipated pretty much instantly, "...Is That The Average For Human Males?"
"Depends. The average was floating somewhere between five and six in the states last time I checked." You shrug, hand wobbling in a 'so-so' gesture.
Her eyebrows pinched in the same way Terezi's did, "If-If It Is Not Too Forward, Where Might You Be On That Scale? For The Sake Of Reference Of Course."
Of course. You were expecting things to head that way and tried not to sound too defensive.
"Around six and a half."
She blinked, and after yet another silence leaned across the space between your chairs to gently pap your knee, face full of sympathy before realizing her misstep and quickly sitting back. You'd asked to keep piles out of this at the second meeting. Keep things professional, you know. You also didn't wanna start any drama with the sorta pale thing she and Karkat seemed to be working on after the disappearance of the Weird Juggalo Troll when you and Rose first arrived.
"Dave I must Give My Deepest condolences."
Shit not this again "Is that kind of thing really a big deal?"
Her sympathy immediately shifted to concern. "Dave I Am Not Sure You Understand. Your Species' Extreme Elasticity--" She trails off the tiniest bit as she swallows softly, gaze far-away "--Aside, A Bulge Of That Size Would Be Nearing A Cullable Mutation For The Safety Of Your Flushed And Even Black Quadrants."
"Hold the phone. Safety?" Kanaya caught your confused squint since you've taken to avoiding the shades there as a gesture of good faith. No judgments and all that AA meeting crap. Wait there we go, 'Alien-fuckers Anonymous' You could have a banner made for that. Maybe some shitty tees. Something to workshop later. Glancing at her you can see Kanaya's waiting for your monologue to finish and shit was all that out loud.
She cleared her throat. "Even The Most Well-Equipped Trolls If You Catch My Meaning Would Fall Short Of That By An Inch And A Half. The Norm For Our Species Is Between Three And Four, Without Entering The Discussion On The Issue Of Girth."
Kanaya hastily took another sip of her drink before continuing. It kicked the cogs in your head spinning loud enough that you're pretty sure she could hear it.
"Taking A Moment To Imitate The Human Frank I Am Beginning To Worry About--"
You'd expected this turn as well and let out a sigh, "How big are we talkin' here, Kanaya."
The Troll swallowed a lump, "F-Four And A Half. Or So. It Can Be Rather Difficult To Measure." And yep there goes the blush.
A beat passed that may have been stretched a teeny bit to think of a decent oneliner and in your best swooning Rose impression replied "Ooh miss Maryam, I was never informed that you were a salami smuggler in your spare time ooh~" Lounging across your chair for effect. Nightlight and a blush, two points for Strider. A hair more seriously you added, "You'll be fine."
Kanaya doesn't look all that convinced, and remained quiet.
"Aaaand you're forgetting the most important factor in the equation here."
"What Exactly Would That Be?"
"You've got a tentacle for a dick. I'm pretty sure Rose couldn't be more into that shit if you'd brainwashed her. Hell, once she finds out I'd bet real cash money she tears your clothes off and throws you over a table--or like her neck will stiffen and a tiny muscle in her jaw will twitch for an attosecond or someshit. Also she actually likes you, so big plus there." Meanwhile the cogs continued to whir on the revelation that You're too big for your alien girlfriend. WAY too big, apparently. That's a hell of a problem to have. It does wonders for your ego before the dawning horror really sets in.
However, an idea began to form when you remembered your earlier gift to yourself.
- - - - -
After the initial alchemization of a few sets of rubberized bedclothes (because jesus christ) it'd taken the better part of a week's worth of clandestine meetings, comparing notes, and secretive dead-drops with Kanaya to alchemize some decent lube (look, growing up with a guardian in the amateur fetish porn industry you pick up a few things whether you want to or not) and seeing as another Dave hasn't dropped by with the recipe--
You pause for a moment to check if one was simply waiting until the thought occurred to show up. No Daves strutting into the alchemiter room or poking out of the vents, so you guess not.
--it'd be too much of a pain to set up a loop to shortcut through the process without one of you dying. Getting off-topic.
With (hopefully) decent lube acquired you clear the alchemiter log and flit back to your room, locking the door behind you.
- - - - -
-- turntechGodhead [TG] began trolling grimAuxiliatrix [GA] at [??:??] --
TG: so the new batch seems promising
TG: specs are alright
TG: no problems with use for regular amounts on humans at least
TG: and no weird side effects so far either unless they creep up later
TG: if it doesnt hold up to the intense scrutiny of one countess kanaya maryam esquire we could use it for stair sledding or something equally stupid
TG: thankfully it doesnt have to be perfect since were only shooting for safety for like six people
TG: a dozen tops
TG: actually would that be esquiress
TG: dont wanna sour the workplace acquaintance rapport weve got going on getting the genders wrong in my fancy titles
TG: anyway ill leave it at the usual place
GA: NO
GA: BBUSY
TG: damn girl dropping the quirk and everything
-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] is now an Idle Chum! --
TG: or just yelling i guess
TG: the other usual place then
- - - - - - - - - -
You hit 'Send' and spike the miniature husktop across the room in a panic before Rose finishes unbuttoning your blouse. She smiles at your lack of composure as usual.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Hold it right there!"
Oh shit it's the fuzz "Sup TZ." You smoothly recaptcha the package you were stashing behind the bookshelf planter and she's already behind you.
"Might I ask what you're doing, skulking around smelling so positively delectable?"
Turning to face her you deflect with "There's a porn intro if I've ever heard one: 'do you know why I pulled your fine ass over mister strider?' with Barry White sneaking in to ogle the action?"
Terezi cackles lightly while she slips into your arms, "I'm being serious, you smell nice. Are you trying a new pheromone compensation aerosol?" You'd showered after your 'testing' so add a mental note of minor lingering smell (pleasant?) for your totally official reports to your lab partner. Meanwhile Terezi looks kinda puzzled.
...Roll with it. "Kanaya suggested it--thought I'd give being multicultural a try. Also not about to argue with a chainsaw."
"The jury notes your admission of cowardice, as well as your attempt to lie to the prosecution. What are you trying to hide in such a remote section of the hivecluster?" She smiles up from your chest, teeth just a bit below your chin.
Busted.
"Ya got me officer." Raising your hands a bit in mock surrender through her hooked arms, "It's a science project."
"And what exactly would that--"
"Nope, can't tell you. Top secret. Serious classified shit. I don't even have clearance to be mentioning it right now with the whole pain of death and everything."
Terezi narrows her eyes behind her shades.
You exaggerate a sigh, "It's supposed to be a surprise--and no cheating with any spooky seer-vision."
Her grin widens (sometimes you're surprised the top of her head doesn't pop off), and when her tongue starts poking out to taste the air you know you're in the clear.
For now at least.
"Alright so what were you doing following me, aside from scoping my fine self." You get another laugh.
Terezi leans in closer, resting her cheek near your collarbone while you continue to hold each other. "What if it was just for that, coolkid? You do have quite the choice ass." And then you nearly jump a foot when she honks your ass and bolts out of the room, cackling maniacally down the hallway.
You laugh and make for the doorway after her and the chase is on.
Naturally it ends at her block. You step in after her shadow and the door slides shut with the accompanying hiss-thunk of hydraulics locking behind you.
From Terezi's sylladex a bed appears at the center of the room, landing with a deep metallic thud and sending the heaps of hapless dragon plushes under it flying. The devastation is incredible. Oh the humanity. You'd shed a single manly tear were you not more occupied with the sloppy makeouts' game of cat-and-also-cat going on.
She sits on the edge and half-mockingly pats the mattress next to her, cheshire grin across her face.
You approach the bedside before quickly scooping her up and twisting into the gentlest suplex ever witnessed, your knees hanging off the bed and her back haphazardly draped over your chest. The squawk she lets out is priceless.
Flailing, she rolls off of you with a "STRIDERRRR!"
You follow her onto your side and prop up on an elbow, giving her your most innocent 'hmm?'
She tackles you and you're both laughing now. When the wrestling and playfighting settles and you both start to recollect yourselves, you tap your elbow to her.
"So what's up TZ?"
She takes a breath to calm her giggles. "I thought we should discuss things pertaining to your human featherbeasts and stingbugs"
Kinda obvious once the bed came out. "And what'd that be?"
"That it isn't really going to work out. At least conventionally." You can both see and hear the annoyance at that. Giving her a quiet 'hm', she continues: "That does not, however, mean to imply that the court plans to release you from your sentence over such a minor setback."
Okay then, deploying shitty court puns "What uh, what kind of term are we talkin' here your tyranny."
She grins daggers at you, "With culling off of the proverbial meal slat, your continual accumulation of demerits may force us to hand down a life sentence." She says it almost casually, like you'd asked about the weather.
There's a sort of squeeze in your chest that you ignore, shimmying up the mattress until your shoulders touch. "Well damn, here I go again with the unwarranted lewd contact with an officer."
"Inappropriate perhaps, but there's no clear case for lewd, strider."
"Alright--" Rolling onto your side you lean over and kiss her, breaking after a moment. "How about now?"
She giggles, "The prosecution will have to present more evidence for us to decide."
You bring a hand up to tilt her head to a better angle and go again, this time with feeling.
Terezi's hands go to your hair and back, her claws digging gently into your scalp while your shirt gets more loose threads. Soon though they start to wander down, stopping at your belt loops for a moment, and you have to break from the kiss when she starts messing with the snap of your jeans.
"What's the plan here Terezi?"
She giggles a little too breathy, "Trying something different." You give a light 'uh huh' as she shimmies down slightly to better reach your zipper.
"...and that would be?"
Her lips scrunch in mock-exasperation you guess is oh you silly aliens before the teeth come out to play again, replying "Attempting one of the confusingly-named 'human blowjobs'."
Synapses fire and you're halfway sat up before you catch yourself. "Where did you--" She and Rose are in cahoots. Aw fuck. Aw fuck. Rose you don't understand she has a jaw full of knives why. You can see her beponcho'd silhouette superimposed in the air, back of her hand half covering her laugh like some kind of cartoon villainess.
You gulp. Twice. And maybe a third while your brain and dick are strifing.
She starts giggling again and the winner is decided. Especially once she's sliding your pants and boxers down.
"Okay, just uh" A fourth for good measure, "watch the teeth yeah?"
"You wound me Dave." Terezi pouts before chuckling low, fangs in question on full display as she slides off the bed to her knees, taking your pants with her after the minor stutter of you hurriedly kicking off your shoes.
A moment passes while you both shift slightly to get a bit more comfortable.
Settling back on your elbows you're met with a perfect view of her between your legs as she works up the nerve to touch you.
Meanwhile little Dave is doing his best impression of the cave of wonders' who dares disturb my slumber oh sup TZ
- - - - - - - - - -
You're here. Face to face with... you're not exactly sure, honestly. It sort of resembles a bulge, except not even slightly. It's thicker and far more blunt than one, and bigger. Much bigger. Like comparing one of your caneswords to a battering ram (and would probably involve the same amount of damage). Your bile pump sinks a little.
There's no way this is going to work out.
Dave has noticed that you're unsure, and while he's usually keen to cover for you with a near-incomprehensible and vaguely offensive tirade of his own, he's slightly invested in your performance right now, so the awkward silence remains and scouts a location to set up a seasonal lawnring-hive combination.
You can feel the back of your pan flickering through choices and routes and subroutes across the infinite tapestry of fate and will. You're both pretty lame in all of them.
A few more seconds pass and you can hear him getting ready to speak up, so you mentally throw up your hands and move in.
Spontaneous it is then. Let's see what you remember from Rose's material.
Dave's breath hitches when you touch it. His skin is softer there than the rest, almost gliding under your fingertips--sort of loose and taut at the same time. You gingerly close your hand around it and it jumps, which startles you. Dave's half-smirk is decidedly ignored while you carefully work your hand down the length of his bulge and back up again.
He doesn't complain so you keep going, but before long you begin to detect the salty tang of frustration before Dave swallows slightly and sort of half-coughs to get your attention.
"It's not made of glass TZ you can go a bit harder than that."
You distract him from your surprised 'oh' by increasing the pressure until he inhales more sharply, then backing off a smidge and pumping your fist again. He hums deep in his chest as you continue from there.
Something wet startles you when it touches the web of your thumb. Pausing to examine it, a clear bead of genetic material trails from the tip of his bulge down to your hand. A quiet part of you is relieved that working with a human isn't an entirely dry affair. A dainty lick later you find that it tastes faintly like... nothing in particular really, but it's a good chance to move in and run your tongue over the tip of his bulge.
Dave's gasp is precious, catching tight in his chest. You spend a little time testing the waters (or you suppose tasting, hehe) to see his reactions and keep having to remind yourself to keep your hand moving when you get too caught up in his twitches and mumbled curses and shallow breaths.
Eventually you stop and take a moment to kneel a bit straighter before leaning in to brush your lips against it, pressing them to the sort of mushroom-cap and poking your tongue out to swirl around it and smile when Dave's fists clench into the hibernation slab's covers.
His legs shake as he restrains himself from pushing upward but you take the hint, laving up your palm and covering his bulge with a few soft twists of your wrist, then running your tongue from base to tip and carefully--carefully taking it into your mouth.
Dave chokes out a quiet 'holy shit'.
It's hard to concentrate with the bulge in your mouth occupying so many of your senses. Your fangs have been a point of pride for you until this last minute or so, and you are now hyper-aware of exactly why even the blackest of kismesis wouldn't dare suggest something like this. A bulge's flailing would shred itself to nothing, and made your guts seize in phantom pain at the mere thought of it. It had taken the Rose human (or really just Rose; you'd been corresponding since shortly after she and Dave had arrived on the meteor, and that was more Karkat's thing to call them anyway) an extreme amount of convincing and video evidence that she was not in fact trolling you.
It takes a lot of patience to slowly work your lips down his shaft and back up, inching a little further each time to avoid any mishaps. He'll take in a hissing breath when your teeth graze him and you freeze, relaxing and gently re-orienting yourself and making sure he's alright before continuing and messing up again.
Pressing down, you flex your tongue along the underside of his length experimentally and Dave lets out a low groan and shudders as you slowly pull back, until just the head is left and you can take a few seconds to prepare yourself.
The building ache in your jaw complains at the angle you've got it open to and your neck raises similar objections to your pace, but you press on, down and down until you feel it reach the back of your throat and stop, dread curling in your stomach for a tense few seconds before slowly backing off again and repeating the motion.
You'll have to remember to thank Rose later for the suggestion to practice weakening your gag reflex; you'd hate to think of the consequences otherwise (harming Dave is the last thing you want, not that the sweet candy red blood of his being so, so close isn't tempting). You had to replace more fang scrubbing implements than you'd care to say during the attempt, but it seems well worth it for this.
Tilting your head back slightly and take a quick breath before bearing down, feeling the slightest give in his shaft as it pushes it's way into your throat, going and going until ashen nose touches pale skin and breaks your concentration.
- - - - - - - - - -
Your girl is deepthroating you like an (incredibly careful) champ. Her dainty attentions and careful ministrations would make a guild of fine sugar lace craftsmen weep bloody tears of jealousy. It's amazing. She's amazing.
It's also really starting to hurt between how hard you are and how slow she's taking things.
It doesn't help that she's stopped entirely at the moment. You are this close to losing your cool and begging for... something (but mr strider your fingers are already touching yes exactly)
"'Rezi--" Her questioning 'hmm?' vibrates around your dick and you're suddenly having a real hard time keeping your train of thought "--you're doing beautiful and I don't wanna pressure you or anything but it's getting real painful here in stridertown so if you could pl-if you could keep going that'd be awesome." Cutting it close there, maybe she didn't pick that up--
Terezi snorts, pulling off slightly and you see the corner of her lips quirk and shit she heard it god jesus fuck 'hmmmmmm??'
A choking "Please" comes from somewhere and oh shit it's you and then she's off to the races, wrapping a hand around the base of your dick and pumping that (and then having to stop to lick her hand and try again) while she bobs on what she can fit more comfortably in her maw while your legs jerk and tense under her. You go from a stalled forty percent to ninety and climbing quickly. Valves are hissing and flashing red alarms start blaring on the USS insufferable prick.
Crushing down the gasps and quiet curses cutting off your delivery, you manage a terse "I'm getting close."
She keeps going.
Right. Alien. Clarify. "You don't have to uh--" squashing a groan to clear your throat, "--You can pull off if you're not comfortable with--"
The Troll rolls her red eyes with a "hmm-mph" and starts swirling her tongue, cutting you off as the pressure in your dick barrels past it's limit and drags your brain with it as it goes.
- - - - - - - - - -
You take your time savoring the feeling as he spends himself in your mouth, his bulge flexing quickly as it spurts it's meager amounts of genetic material in thick globs.
From the informational videos that Rose and supplied for you (pulled from a series of deeply nested and encrypted folders on her husktop) you had expected a sweet or creamy flavor from the colors onscreen. You were instead confronted with a vaguely salty, almost bitter fluid with the consistency of phlegm that left a dry feeling on the back of your tongue. The disappointment was minor, however, when compared to the gasps and twitches from Dave when you coil your tongue around him as his orgasm winds down.
There is a bit more than you were anticipating and you were nearing the point of drooling down Dave's thigh onto the bed, so you--carefully--swallow around his bulge. Dave's reaction is immediate: rising from the elbows to hunched over you, one hand gently on your head and the other clutching into the sheets at his side. In the back of your pan you wonder if he feels your smile.
You spend a bit more time toying with his bulge as it begins to deflate. Eventually his groaning and mumbling begin to color with not-quite-whimpers, so you decide that it's enough for now.
For good measure, you wring his bulge out with your lips as you finally pull off of it, ending with a wet pop for effect. Dave shudders deliciously and tries to claw his composure together. His hair is beginning to mat with sweat and his shades are almost loose enough to see over--not that you're doing much better yourself, swallowing the last dregs on your tongue and catching your breath.
You've kept your thighs pressed together to try and keep the quivery heat that had been steadily building in the pit of your bile pump off your mind while you had to focus, but at this point you're halfway uncoiled and beginning to worry about the state of your pants if it isn't addressed soon.
Dave seems to have the same thought, tapping your arm and motioning you up onto the hibernation slab again. You clamber up to flop next to him, calves almost burning from kneeling for so long.
He follows and meets your lips, bumping your leg slightly with his own as he turns to support himself on his side as his free hand wanders your chest while you make out. Eventually sliding down past your navel and lingering with an unasked question. You nod slightly.
He pulls away and your senses follow the rustle of cloth as he slides down from the hibernation slab to settle onto his knees, and unbidden your mouth forms into a curiosity noodle when he drag-slides you to it's edge by your hips after him.
Karkat's ill-advised memo with both John and Dave during the game had been hilarious at the time, but reading over the chatlog later had made the human males' playful-but-very-real aversion toward other guys' advances crystal clear to you before the two humans had even arrived on the meteor. When your discussions with Rose reached the subject, she explained that Dave grew up in a region where that was frowned upon even moreso than usual, asking that you be patient with him on the subject of bulges--so you weren't harboring any wild hopes of Dave offering to 'return the favor' but the thought of your bulge grazing those blunt human teeth sent a shiver coiling in your gut. You'd kind of avoided the whole topic due to it and he never pressed you over it, since you might actually die of embarrassment it you scared him off with your wiggly bits. The irony isn't lost on you.
The curiosity noodle remains wedged firmly in place as he unbuttons your pants, and after some nudging you lift your hips a little so he can get them off of you. Thankfully you'd thought to slide your shoes off while settling onto the floor yourself earlier.
His eyebrows raise slightly as he peels your sticky-wet panties off to slide them up and over your knees, and it begins to dawn on you that he could be planning to return the favor.
With your positions reversed, you're left teetering on an anxious wire as Dave regards your (probably weird) alien junk.
- - - - - - - - - -
There's a moment you think Kanaya's books were an elaborate setup to mess with you before you start to see how what parts might match up to the diagrams underneath the sheen of teal fluid. Things are a lot different in person, and even more in motion. It is the grossest and most unsexy thing you've ever seen and you are rock hard.
She appears to be very excited from the looks of things. Which you guess is a good start? Step one check and all that. It doesn't dawn on you that you'd drifted closer until a quiet, wet slap breaks the tense silence of the room and your girlfriend flinches.
Her bulge lays across the left frame of your iShades, eagerly smearing a dark and cloudy fluid across them and papping against them a few more times as it thrashes in the open air.
You freeze and catch Terezi's expression: her eyes are wide, both hands clapped over her mouth and looking positively scandalized. Or holding in a laugh. Her eyebrows appear to be trying to flee the country with as high as they've gone, and she officially has the deepest blush you've ever seen on the Troll.
"These are gonna be a bitch to clean you know." There's a smile in your voice. better than getting poked in the eye at least. you'd hate to title her memoirs as 'in which terezi pyrope is an embarrassment to society' after she commits poignant troll seppuku out of shame.
Terezi covers her face entirely and looks away, but you stop her from rolling with a hand on her thigh; you don't really wanna catch a knee to the head, since as sharp as they are you'd lose an ear or something.
"So. Uh. Does this thing come with a manual?"
Silence.
"TZ." She ignores you, so you wait a bit. "Terezi? You're killin' me here."
It takes a second to swallow down the terror that you've killed the mood once again before you hear her:
"Your hand."
You follow her (little) advice and reach forward to touch her bulge, which then slips out of your grasp. A few times. It's a rascally little fucker. She tenses every time you make contact.
Then you notice you're basically darting in to grab it like it's got a knife or something before you remind yourself that this is going to be messy business no matter which way you slice it, and just press your thumb to the base and slide your way up until the little tentacle is sort of trapped in your hand, the whole top side of which is basically painted with teal streaks by the time you manage it.
The girl's hands fly to yours and she squeaks uncomfortably when you try to pump it, so you back off and just sort of gently squeeze it while it thrashes and twines between your fingers.
You're really beginning to appreciate how vocal your girlfriend is; it makes it so much easier to tell when you're doing well, and boy does she go off at that. She's got such a variety of gasps and moans and grunts and alien little accompanying noises in her chest and throat that she could play them like an instrument (now there's an idea)
When your lips touch it she lets out a warbling groan that drags on forever, and you take it as your cue to get this flying boner circus on the road. Which takes a little wrangling (see again: rascally little fucker), but eventually you've got it in your mouth.
Meanwhile Terezi's 'bulge' is pretty much constantly oozing with her weird alien jizz. You can't really place the taste. It feels almost syrupy and the taste is not-quite tangy. You're not sure bitter is the right word for the sort of lead-on it has either; it's musky in a way that your lizard-brain just goes 'Yep that's Terezi' and little else.
It's
Not terrible, honestly.
But now's not the time for honesty: it's time for you to concentrate on getting your pointy alien girlfriend off. Which you seem to be pretty far along with from her moans and weird chest-clicking becoming faster and more erratic.
Her best reactions come when you're basically making out with it like a particularly long and aggressive tongue (which you're already intimately experienced with at this point, and honestly you're just relieved it doesn't have teeth to match) if a bit thinner.
She's splayed out on the mattress and rolling her hips, clicking and gasping while her nails cut furrows into the sheets. Her thighs are pressed to your head and sort of jamming your shades into your skull and her ankles are digging into your ribs but you're a little busy to try and complain.
With stuttering gasps above you you pass whatever tipping point Terezi has; she seizes up with her hands grasping at your hair and a hard grip with her thighs as her bulge stills and begins pumping a frankly shocking amount of her syrupy fluids into your mouth. You ride it out and try to make a good effort at it because a true lady never spits, but it's a good thing you're no lady because jesus fuck that's a lot and you hit capacity pretty damn fast. Ruining the night by drowning isn't really high on your priorities, so you pull free with a wet cough; alien jizz dribbling out of your mouth as her bulge spurts teal all down your front and into the floor in a quickly spreading puddle.
Terezi's also gonna need another mattress since you forgot about the sheets you made, but that's something to tell her when she's not shivering and moaning.
After several more seconds it looks like the waterworks are winding down, her bulge only occasionally dripping more genetic material as it sort of recedes into a triangular collection of lumps--the diagrams labeled the top as a 'bone bulge', which is apparently a ridge of actual bone that acts like a sort of sportsball cup, the lower two being the 'shame globes' you've heard Karkat shout about fondling a few thousand times over the years, with a sympathetic dribble from Jesus H Christ you completely ignored her nook you're the fucking worst and the worst at fucking holy shit
Reaching out to touch the entrance Terezi squeaks and slams her legs closed, pretty much instantly shoulder-rolling backwards away from you on the bed, which knocks off her glasses in a blur of motion.
You girlfriend's looking more than a little panicked and you freeze and hold up your hands in the sort of universal gesture of 'woah okay officer don't shoot'. Okay, slightly oversensitive after busting a nut. Good to know.
She's still groaning, her red glare unfocused as she claws into the mattress and starts to curl up.
That doesn't seem right "Terezi? You okay?" She continues pulling in on herself, pretty obviously in pain now.
You hastily tab through pesterchum and everyone is predictably offline, with one exception.
-- turntechGodhead [TG] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG] at [??:??] --
TG: karkat we got an emergency here
TG: like real ass whole ass emergency
TG: you can kill me later this is really important
TG: karkat you gotta answer man
TG: please
CG: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?
CG: WHAT'S THE EMERGENCY?
TG: alright i get this is in preposterously bad taste and deeply violates the ancient tenets of bro code but i got nobody else to turn to
TG: me and TZ were getting handsy and one thing led to another
-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] has blocked turntechGodhead [TG]! --
-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] has unblocked turntechGodhead [TG]! --
CG: CALL OFF YOUR TIME CLONES SO I CAN BLOCK YOU AND GET BACK TO PLANNING YOUR BRUTAL MURDER, WHICH GOOD JOB ASSHOLE, YOU JUST GAVE ME PERMISSION FOR!
CG: NOT THAT I NEEDED A BY-YOUR-LEAVE FOR THAT.
CG: WHAT IS SO GOGDAMNED IMPORTANT THAT YOU'VE GOT TO WAVE YOUR DISEASED BULGE IN MY FACE LIKE THIS, BECAUSE THIS IS A NEW LOW FOR SOMEONE ALREADY EMBEDDED SO DEEP INTO YOUR SHITTY EARTH'S CRUST THAT THEIR AGONIZED SCREAMS WOULD NEVER BE HEARD BY INTELLIGENT SPECIES AGAIN.
TG: because terezi looks like shes in extreme pain and i have no clue what to do here
CG: WHAT'S ACTUALLY HAPPENING.
TG: so like i said
TG: things got away from us and next thing i know im getting hosed down like a trip through the car wash
TG: after which shes sorta freaking out and curled into a little ball on the bed
-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] has blocked turntechGodhead [TG]! --
-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] has unblocked turntechGodhead [TG]! --
-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] has blocked turntechGodhead [TG]! --
-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] has unblocked turntechGodhead [TG]! --
CG: ASDLFHETIOYSBCSLKA;ORHASKOP4UGOHAHNWEFIOBHWEIO
CG: THIS IS ACTUAL TORTURE.
CG: THERE'S EIGHT OF YOU ASSHOLES THAT WON'T LET ME LEAVE AND WON'T SHUT UP ABOUT HOW IMPORTANT THIS IS AND WON'T ACTUALLY JUST EXPLAIN IT THEMSELVES, SO FUTURE YOU IS JUST AS MUCH OF A PUSTULE-LADEN SEEDFLAP AS CURRENT YOU IS!
CG: SO I GUESS I'LL JUST DIRECT A CONCENTRATED HATEBEAM AT ALL DAVES THROUGH ALL OF TIME AND PRAY TO ANY DEITY WHO WILL LISTEN THAT IT JUST OBLITERATES ALL OF YOU.
CG: AND WOULD YOU FUCKING LOOK AT THAT, NOTHING HAPPENED.
CG: JUST GET THIS OVER WITH SO I CAN GET BACK TO KILLING MYSELF YOU FUCKING DEVIANT.
TG: alright im gonna break down what happened and go out on a limb and change all names to preserve the identities of those involved
TG: paraphrasing because re: in a god damn hurry here
TG: so frank and sally are getting biblically acquainted
TG: sally touches franks wiggly bits and everythings great despite neither knowing whats going on
TG: frank touches sallys wiggly bits and everything seems great until she starts freaking out
TG: and then he realizes he hadn't gotten around to messing with the other half of the equation yet so to speak
CG: HE *WHAT*
You actually hear that through the vents from wherever the fuck he's at, jesus Karkat has some lungs on him.
CG: YOU FUCKING WHAT
CG: GET THE FUCK OVER THERE AND DO THAT RIGHT THE HELL NOW
TG: do what vantas i dont have an instruction booklet here
CG: HER NOOK YOU BASTARD!
CG: DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW PAINFUL NOT FULLY TRIGGERING YOUR PAILING REFLEX IS?
CG: OF FUCKING COURSE YOU DON'T YOU RUSTPANNED ALIEN.
CG: HOW ABOUT I GO TEAR OFF YOUR BULGE AND LET THAT EXPLAIN? IN FACT LET ME ADD THAT TO THE LIST I'M PUTTING TOGETHER FOR LATER.
TG: okay but thats not exactly gonna be easy
CG: AND THAT'S NOT EXACTLY *MY* FUCKING PROBLEM ASSHOLE!
TG: alright well thanks anyway
CG: I HOPE SHE KILLS YOU AND SAVES ME THE TROUBLE.
-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] has blocked turntechGodhead [TG]! --
He doesn't unblock you at swordpoint again so you guess that's that. You sign off a mental IOU of one (1) hugbunp to future Dave for keeping this on the rails, and glancing back through the screen Terezi is not having the grandest time: laying on her side now, shuddering and sort of heaving. Shes got her arms wrapped tight around her legs, nails drawing blood on her arms from how hard she's gripping.
She's also crying, which kicks you right in the chest.
Climbing up on the bed you ignore the prickling in your legs and close the distance between you two, making what you hope are soothing noises and apologies. She flinches at your touch, pulling further inwards.
Looks like we're gonna have to just muscle through this then.
You grab one hand and pry it free from her arm, hastily catching her other as she flails and almost catches your throat with her nails. She kicks at your stomach and you let go of her arm to catch her thigh, ducking in and pressing your head in against her chest, pinning her other leg under yours as you slide forward in an almost-tackle onto your side with her.
Naturally she bites the fuck out of your shoulder, latching on and grinding her teeth while her free arm tears gashes across your back.
Leaning forward, you roll her onto her back and pin her torso under yours to free up the hand from her leg to snake down towards her nook. It's a hell of a stretch with her attached like a lamprey, and you're getting kind of dizzy from the pain in your shoulder, but you make it work. She stiffens when you touch her entrance, and big points go to troll biology because your middle finger slides in without issue. Holy fuck she's tight no shut up dick were trying to concentrate here thankfully she's caught up in what you're doing now and stopped shredding your back.
You work more of it into her and she mercifully releases your shoulder to gasp loudly into your ear as you start to work it in small circles, trying to feel for... something--you don't know, you're just sort of winging it here. There's no differences in texture or layout in there, everything is just tight and slimy and slightly-higher-than-lukewarm like she usually is (and jesus christ your diiiiiiick), so you're flying blind in what seems to be the running theme of the evening.
Terezi's grunts pick up a keening noise in the back of her throat when you bottom out, circling and flexing your finger in what you hope is a decent enough approximation for "crazy alien tentacle" which like the correct answer with how she's eagerly rutting into your hand--so eagerly that you're starting to feel some sharp pains in your knuckle and a popping sensation that you know isn't good, but the proverbial bed's been made and there's a hot alien chick in it so you're sure as fuck gonna climb in anyway.
Something wet coils across your wrist and you realize you're making exactly the same damn mistake, so you slide a bit further down from her torso now that the Troll doesn't have a death grip on you, twisting your wrist a bit to press her bulge with your thumb.
And then you hear it: Four little letters arranged to represent a particular pasty fuck in shades. She's moaning your goddamn name and jesus christ you could cum right now if you weren't concentrating so hard. Instead you bear down, working like a man possessed and her voice pick up higher and higher until your name freezes in her throat and her subvocals kick up to a high trilling noise to match as she clenches hard around your finger before coating your hand wrist and stomach in fluids as both bulge and nook both cut loose with whatever they've got left. You ignore the waterslide and slowly keep going, working her through her orgasm to make sure you're not just accidentally blueballing her again, until she's spent and shuddering and your wrist is cramping up something fierce. The groan that escapes when you carefully extract your digit is positively disgusting and you kind of want her to do it again, but at this point you're too busy with your head on her stomach trying not to pass out.
At least it seems like it's actually over properly this time, so good job, crisis averted.
- - - - -
You wake some time later exactly where you dozed off, Terezi still conked out half-under you. After a bleary moment of panic you see she's still breathing and looks like she's just sleeping peacefully.
So.
That was a disaster.
The following instant you notice that you're in actual blinding pain when looking up at her makes your vision swim as your back and arm make a very convincing case for ceding from your body entirely in some ill-advised bid for independence, the latter of which you can't actually move at all. Trying to turn your head tweaks your shoulder, which means you can't even get a good look at the damage while you slowly, carefully inch your leg under you to try and prop yourself up.
It takes an eternity, and there's an uncomfortable stretch of seconds as you peel the bedsheet off of your torso where her genetic material basically glued it to you as it dried, but eventually you succeed, leaning on your folded knee and your good hand--which, ha ha, isn't too good either with the angry red middle knuckle that wont move and the sharp jumping pains when you so much as twitch--realizing that you don't have any pants on.
Swapping to your godtier jammies is great since it pretty much starts eating the Troll jizz you're covered in as it makes contact (score one for self-cleaning divine sleepwear) and then awful because it's also touching your wounded back and shoulder, which the previous had been shredded around for the most part.
Terezi doesn't stir at your hissing breaths and muttered curses, which you're quietly thankful for as you inchingly maneuver yourself off the mattress.
Lurching over to her ablution block bathroom you locate the sink and make an attempt at cleaning yourself up; cupping some water up onto your face to rinse off the teal streaks down your chin and neck, working your fingers through your hair to wrestle it into something decent and ease out any dried clumps, and using a dampened shirt to wipe your shades as best you can with one hand before realizing there's a shower right goddamn there and start carefully shrugging out of your pajamas.
A few turns of the handle and a wet hiss later the water's decently warm, so you slide in under it.
You succeed in not screaming immediately, and you're worried in the back of your head that your gritted cursing is going to wake Terezi while you gently try to clean yourself up and make sure you don't have any bits of shirt stuck anywhere. Hate to die of sepsis or something before you can make it up to her for last night, after all.
Another squeaky handle and the water stops while you grab a towel out of your sylladex, thankful that you'd prepared stuff like that even if it was only just now seeing use. You save patting down where you can reach on your back and shoulder for last, not wanting to agitate it much more or get blood anywhere else if you can help it and opt for just some boxers and godtier pants before returning to her block with the now-soiled towel back in your inventory. The cold air sucks but it's better than fabric.
A turn of her head indicates that Terezi's awake now, looking tired and confused. You can feel her smelling at you as you approach.
"You alright?" You ask, padding closer.
"Yeah. Very achy." Her voice is still thick from sleep. You gingerly sit on a clean patch at the side of the bed and she catches your pained grunt. "What's wrong?"
"Little scratched up, no worries."
Eyebrows furrowed, she gets up to crawl over to you for a closer sniff. Her advance stops about a foot short when she gasps in horror, her red eyes wide and face distraught.
"Oh no. Dave I'm so sorry--"
You immediately put out a hand to comfort her, tugging at her shoulder and pulling her into your good one and stopping her. "Hey, hey, it's fine. I'll be okay. It's okay."
"What happened?" You feel her lashes against your neck.
"I guess you were kinda freaking out while I had to finish things up after doing a terrible job getting you off." You lean your cheek down onto her, wary of her horns, "Are you okay? It looked like you were in some serious pain."
She doesn't answer. A wet bead runs down your collarbone.
Shit. "Let me know if I'm getting too 'pale' for ya." You whisper, squeezing across her shoulders lightly and nuzzling into her hair a bit, humming a low tune that you can't quite remember where you learned it. She trembles slightly and relaxes, and all is calm for a while.
Eventually you guess she's had enough and half-shoves away from your chest, clambering off the bed with a sharp nod to herself. "I'm taking a shower".
"Probably a good idea, you look like you fell out of some sort of slasher porno." She rolls her eyes and you blow a semi-ironic kiss that she can't see as she makes her way to the bathroom. With her safely out of the room you start praying to anything that will listen that you hit a dreambubble soon for an APB on the healer-troll with the impossible amounts of hair because FUCK!