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Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are currently sitting on the platform, in the middle of a movie marathon with your matesprit. This wasn’t unusual - you often wound up on the platform with Dave after you both got home from work, and watched movies until you passed out at an unreasonable hour.
Dave was currently curled up with his head in your lap as you absentmindedly played with his hair. He would never admit it, but he liked being held like this, probably more than he liked holding you. He was wearing one of your shirts, which was much too big on him, and a pair of boxers. His shades have long since been forgotten, when you complained about them digging into your thigh.
“I know every man on Earth C has said this,” Dave starts to talk, ruining the comfortable silence. You preemptively roll your eyes. “But Chris Evans looks so fucking good in this. Too bad he has a wife, we could make him our third. That’s a troll thing, right? Like an auspistice? I don’t want him to be peaceful though, I want him to rearrange my insides,”
You grimace, making a horrified face at both Dave's rant and his ignorance of quadrants - you know he knows better than than, you have made him sit through plenty of troll romance movies. You tune him out, and turn your attention back to the movie. You're watching some stupid human superhero movie; you're not sure what is so special about Captain America - a full grown highblood could snap him in half easily - but you're indulging Dave.
You take a better look at the man on the screen. Human beauty standards are much different than Alternia's. You think of popular celebrities from when you were a wriggler - boybands like Hatched 2 Dance - and mentally compare them to people like Chris Evans. Really, what is considered attractive is nothing alike.
You know you were never really an attractive troll, but on Alternia you had much more important things to worry about then if you looked like a sex symbol; you were going to be culled either way. You were chubby, as if you never lost all your wriggler fat. Beefy trolls were popular, normally signaling a higher caste, but you were more pudgy than buff. Your horns were so stubby, if you had grown your hair out any longer you might not be able to see them. Your teeth, though pointier than a human's, were still blunt for a troll, and-
“Seriously, I'd motorboat those pecs. Can you imagine what those abs would feel like? I could grate cheese on them, Karkles. We could have a pizza made from his ab cheese,” your mind snaps back to the situation at present as Dave continues to ramble. You gave a small grunt of acknowledgement.
It wasn’t unusual for Dave to compliment human movie stars, especially when they were with John. For someone who ‘wasn’t a homosexual’, whatever that meant, some of the things John said were worse than what came out of Dave's mouth on a bad day. But sometimes, as stupid as it was, it bothered you.
Let’s be honest, you don’t look anything like Chris Evans or Tom Cruise or Ryan Gosling or any of the other men Dave made obscene comments about. You feel guilty, because Dave has never given any reason to make you think you weren’t attractive. He has no problem telling you that you look good- when you try on a new pair of pants or in the bedroom or any of the times you’ve showered together - but you don’t look like any of these human men. You don’t have cheese grater abs, not many trolls do, as it would be stupid to have your muscles and organs unguarded, but that rationale doesn’t stop you from focusing on it.
You just look so much like a troll . Obviously, because you're a troll. And Dave knows you're a troll. There isn’t really a way to hide that about yourself. He assures you that aliens are super fucking cool on a constant basis. But really, how could you even compare yourself to these human stars?
“Hey babe, you good up there?” You look down at Dave, who has turned his head in your lap to look at you. You didn’t even notice that you had stopped playing with his hair. You grunt, and go back to petting his hair; you do not feel like having a feelings jam right now. Dave doesn’t seem to pick up on it.
“Don’t give me that. I can practically hear the gears in your head turning. What’s eating you, Gilbert grape?” You narrow your eyes at him.
“Who the fuck is Gilbert Grape?”
“Don’t dodge the question,”
You roll your eyes at him. “It’s nothing. It’s stupid. Watch your movie.” Dave sits up until he can press a kiss to your temple. Despite your best efforts, you smile. Fuck, he is too good to you. He leans back and opens his arms wide. “Lay it on me, Kittykat.” You grimace at the nickname, but you don’t see a way out of this. You climb into his arms and press yourself to his side, talking into his shoulder so you can spare yourself the embarrassment of looking at him.
“It’s just,” You start, quickly trailing off. He runs his hands through your coarse hair the best he can, and presses a kiss to one of your horns, but he doesn’t push. “I don’t look like Chris Evans,” You say finally. Dave snorts, and you slap him.
“OW! Sorry, babe, it’s just that, not a lot of people do look like him.” He says. “That’s all that you're worried about? Shit, Kat, I don’t look like him either.”
“It’s not that!” You start, thinking of how to phrase this better. “You always compliment these big, beefy human actors, and I don’t… look anything like that. I’m chubby, and kind of short for a troll, I have horns and my skin is fucking grey for gogs sake. I guess I just worry that you won’t find me as attractive as you find those human movie stars?”
You peek up at Dave, and he is frowning like what you said broke his heart. Fuck, his expression looks so hurt. You are the worst matesprit in existance.
“It’s not your fault!” You start backtracking almost immediately. “You have never done anything to make me feel that way, I just-”
You are cut off when Dave presses his lips to yours. You lean into the kiss - it is sickenly sweet and gentle, not like how you usually kiss him. He pulls away, and you go to turn away but he grabs your face with his hands and forces you to look at him.
“Karkat, you are beautiful,” he tells you. Your face flushes, and you resist the urge to say do you really think so? Or how? Tell me why? Gog, you really are a pathetic excuse for a troll. It’s almost like he can read your mind. He repositions you so you're lying down on the couch, and he lays on top of you. He peppers your face with kisses as he speaks.
“Chris Evans is attractive, yes. But that doesn't mean that you aren't. He has nothing on you, Karkat, no one does.” You let out a choked sound that sounds embarrassingly close to a sob and he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. “He isn’t you. I love every single part of you that makes you into the troll that you are. I wouldn’t have you any other way. You're perfect.”
You are overwhelmed with the compliments, something you never let yourself have. You always just wave Dave off when he says something nice about you. But in a moment of weakness, a pathetic ‘Really?’ slips from your lips.
“Really,” Dave confirms, and the smile on his face is so earnest you could cry. He presses a kiss to each of your cheeks. “I love your face,” he starts. He presses a kiss in between your eyebrows. “Even if it is normally scrunched up because I say something stupid. I love how expressive you are.”
He kisses over each of your eyelids. “I love your eyes. I love that, as we got older, they turned red. I know you hate that, but it makes me feel this connection to you. Our eyes match. There is some beautiful metaphor there, I think,” You giggle at his attempt to be romantic, and he just smiles. You didn’t do anything to deserve this.
He kisses your lips, and kisses one of your pointed teeth. “I love your mouth. For more than one reason,” he winks. You roll your eyes. “I love everything you have to say. For the first time in my life, you made me feel safe, even when you're yelling at me.” You really don’t deserve this.
He presses another kiss to the tip of your nose. “I love your nose, and I think it’s adorable how you scrunch it up when we are watching a movie and they say something stupid. It’s like you want to jump in there and fix their relationship. You have such a big heart, Karkat. You make everyone around you feel loved.” You think your own heart skips a beat at that.
He kisses both horns. “I know you hate them, but I loved your horns. I love that you can relax and do that cool cicada noise when I scratch the base. I love how they aren’t sharp enough to stab my eye out when I sleep. Rose told me she makes Kanaya wear pool noodles on hers,” you laugh at that. You never really thought of your horns as anything but a failure as a troll, and it’s nice to hear they aren’t.
He kisses your ears, and kisses down your neck, before getting to the expanse of your chest. He pushes your shirt up, and blows a raspberry into the spot where your belly button would be if you had one before you can protest, effectively shutting you up. You squirm at the sensation, and push Dave away.
“What happened to being nice to me?” You ask, but there was a smile spread across your face. You look at Dave, and he was tinted pink and his eyes were filled with genuine love. Your bloodpusher melted for him. You wish you knew what to say to make him feel as loved as he makes you feel. You don’t deserve him.
Dave leans back down and kisses your stomach, much more gentle this time. “I love your stomach,” You open your mouth to argue, to mention the cheese grader abs again, but he shooshes you, as if he knew what you were going to say. “I love it. I don’t care that you aren’t buff. I have nothing going on down there either. I’m the skinniest guy on this side of Earth C. That’s not normally an attractive thing, either, but you don’t care about my stomach. So why would I care about yours?” You bite your tongue, not wanting to say anything that would make him sad. You love Dave, every single part of him. It baffles you that he wouldn’t be considered the pinnacle of beauty of Earth C.
“I wish you could see how beautiful you are, Kat,” He continues to kiss up and down your stomach and chest. You flush at the sensation, out of embarrassment and shame at the fact that you are truly enjoying this. You really needed to hear him say all these things, as selfish as it may be.
He makes his way back up your chest and kisses down the length of your arms, stopping to press a kiss in the center of your palm, and then kissing the tips of all ten fingers.
“I love your arms. I love when you hold me in them. It makes me feel so safe. And I love your hands. You're so gentle with me, like you're scared I might break. I love holding your hands. I love how gentle you are, and I love all of the things you create with them.”
He kisses your thighs, getting suspiciously close to your clothed nook, but always kisses back down. “I love your thighs. I especially love them squeezing around my head-” You gasp at this, and you pull his hair. “Dave!” You exclaim, and you flush at his words.
“Oh, more of that,” He says, smirking at you. “I could get used to that,” You roll your eyes and feel your face burn. You flop back down onto the couch, and he goes back to his ministrations. He grabs your leg and lifts it over his shoulder, moving his head to mouth at the back of your knee. You let out a choked laugh and quickly kick him away.
“I’m about to banish you from touching me,” You warn him, although there is no malice in your voice. He puts a hand over his heart, acting wounded. “That would be the seventh circle of hell. Do you want me to die? I’m a parched man, Karkat, you can’t deny me of this,”
“Then behave,” You tell him. “Yes sir,” He says, a wide smile on his face. You flush again.
He kisses down your calves, complimenting you on your strength, and then kisses your ankle and the bottoms of your feet. You groan, and complain about how disgusting that is, but he argues that there is nothing disgusting about you.
When he has finished literally kissing you from the top of your horns to the tips of your toes, he makes his way back up, complimenting every part of your body once again as he kisses it. You feel like you could die. This is exactly what you needed. You don’t know how you got so lucky.
When he gets back to your face, he presses a quick kiss to your lips before collapsing onto you chest. “I love you, Karkat.” He says.
“I love you too,” You give him an unspoken thank you as you begin to rub his back and shoulders in soothing circles the way he likes. He sighs and melts into your touch.
“You are beautiful.”
For once, you don’t argue back.