Chapter Text
Pathetic. That’s what you are. Or at least that’s what you imagine Vriska would call you if she were here right now, but she’s not, and she won’t magically show up if you just fantasize about her long enough. That doesn’t stop you from doing it anyway though.
You know she’d call you names and most likely hold the stupid shit you’d say out of desperation over your head for months. But she’d at least make this whole, lousy situation a little more tolerable if you asked. Or at minimum physically injure you to the point where you couldn’t remember what the original problem was to begin with.
To be completely honest, you probably enjoyed fighting with her more than you did anything else. She was the only one who could keep up with you and by the time you broke up, you knew each other like the backs of your hands. you’d give a whole heck of a lot up to have that back right now, but instead you’re curled up by your computer with your head on your desk begging to whatever gods you don’t believe in for the slightest bit of relief.
Yeah. She’d definitely call you pathetic.
You shove your hand into your pants because whatever friction you’re getting outside of them isn’t enough to alleviate the throbbing sensation in your bulge. you don’t want to. You're too hot and your hand is cramping up. You just want to fall asleep and pretend this isn't an actual thing that actually happens to people, but your body refuses to just fucking relax.
You know it would be so much easier if she were here. Her freezing cold hands would feel so good against your fire-y skin. She’d be biting your neck and whispering dirty, awful things into your ear. she’d squeeze too hard the way you’d never admit you liked and touch you in all the places you wouldn’t think to try. She’d scrape her claws up your gills as she took off your shirt and she’d take off hers cuz you're both burning up and she'd look so fucking hot as she took off her pants and started grinding her nook against your bulge through her cerulean soaked panties, panting and gasping and moaning and-….and-....and-...
you forgot how depressing it is going through heat cycles alone.
Just then, your trollian chat rings an alert and you almost fall out of your chair. It’s Karkat. Why is he messaging you?
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CG: OPEN YOUR DOOR ASSHOLE
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You have no idea what he’s referring to. You can barely keep your brain working long enough to process this message. Open your door?
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CA: wwhy?
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No really, why? Why does he care about the door to your hive? Does he even know where you live or what your hive looks like? Maybe you remember him being here like one time but that's such a weird thing to ask of you right out of the blue. You do not need conversational puzzles at the moment.
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CG:WHY? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? BECAUSE I’M STANDING IN FRONT OF IT AND IT'S RAINING SHIT PAN
CA: wwhat the fuck are you talkin about?
CA: oh shit
CA: wwe wwere supposed to hang out today weren't wwe
CG KINDA YEAH
CA: hold on
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You scramble away from your desk and three steps out you realize you are actually a disgusting mess. Your clothes are soaked with sweat and you haven’t changed them in days. Fuck. clearly there is no time to shower or anything. You feel your “hold on” time limit ticking closer and you wrack your brain for a solution but come up with basically nothing. You settle on just changing your clothes. You do not think about what kind, you just choose literally anything clean. Gods, you're gross. This is really counter to the royal image you try to maintain. You hope Karkat doesn’t care too much because he sure as hell is going to notice.
You run downstairs and swing open the door.
”took you long enough!” karkat grumbles and forces himself inside, he barely gives you a second glance as he's far more interested in getting out of the storm. You stand in the doorway for a few more seconds, trying to savor the feeling of the ocean breeze blowing the rain against your skin; Blessed cold. if only you could stay here forever.
“Uhhhh….” Karkat starts. “You gonna close it or are you just gonna stand there and fucking soak yourself?” he throws his bag onto the couch. “I mean, you're a sea dweller I guess. I don’t know what fucking sea dwellers do for fun.” he trails off into his own mumblings.
“Haha. yeah.” you fake the world's worst chuckle and immediately slam the door closed, a little harder than what was required. Curse you highblood strength. Now is not the time to show off. Actually, you kind of rather nobody knew you even exist right now. You would truly like to disappear.
Karkat raises an eyebrow at your bizzare demeanor. “Are you like… fucking sick or something?” he takes a step closer, looking you up and down. You swallow and stand rigid against the door. This examination is way too close for comfort. You pray he doesn’t actually realize your situation.
“Yes.” you say, completely deadpan, eyes wide in fear. He gives you another odd look but backs off and you breathe a sigh of relief.
“Hm. explains why you look like you crawled out of a dross coffer.”
You instinctively shoot him an offended glare and he smirks. Good. That was almost a normal interaction. Perhaps it’s possible to wait this out without incident.
Karkat starts scoping out your house, wandering his way into your kitchen and rummaging through your cabinets. He’s definitely been here before, but you can’t even vaguely remember when. Your brain is a blur of heightened senses and the threat of dirty thoughts. You wish you could escape your own head.
Karkat bops around your kitchen looking for snacks and you follow a few paces behind careful not to seem too weird. You are trying at the very least to seem as normal as one can when trying desperately not to think about how badly they want to get nailed into a wall.
Stop it. You cannot start this back up. You were given 2 seconds of thinking space and you’re already going off into fantasy land. Focus. There is another troll standing in your kitchen, bitching to you about something that you cannot comprehend because you are trying too hard not to think about how nice his ass looks in his jeans or how you want to run your fingers through his hair and as he’s walking over to you with something in his hand but you just keep thinking about how you wanna tear him out of his sweatshirt and bite his neck and-
“Hello! Alternia to Eridan! Do you want a fucking soda or not?”
“Ngh-” that was not a proper response. You shake your head and try again.”N-no. I’m good.” your voice cracks and you both stand there in awkward silence for a while. It's unbearable.
Karkat finally narrows his eyes at you. “You really must be sick. Usually, you don’t fucking shut up from the second you see me.”
“Yeah must be....” you run your hand through your greasy hair and instantly regret it. You just had to forget you invited karkat over today huh. “On second thought,” you muse, staring at the can he’s holding. Perhaps it will chill you out. “I’ll…. Take that soda….”
He hands it to you and your fingers brush for a brief second. He barely notices but you feel like you’ve stuck your fingers into a power outlet.
“You know if your not up to this I can just go home-”
“No! Stay!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up. Why are you suddenly protesting? Didn’t you want to be alone? “I mean….” you shrink a little back down looking sheepish. “I... I don’t wwanna be alone….” no you don’t do you. Even if its torture having him there and seeing you at your probable worst, you still don’t have guests very often. Karkat is one of the few people who is willing to stand your company and you’re not willing to just throw that away because you're a tad uncomfortable. You’ll muddle through and try to enjoy it. Just not enjoy it too much.