Archive of Our Own

KARKAT: HERE’S THE THING.
KARKAT: I ALSO NEED TO SHOWER.
KARKAT: I JUST CAME OFF AN EIGHT-HOUR SHIFT, SO THE SCENT OF AMERICA’S MOST INSIDIOUS CHAIN COFFEE CONGLOMERATE IS PROBABLY BAKED ONTO ME LIKE A SECOND SKIN.
KARKAT: AND I’M GUESSING YOU DON’T WANT TO DO THIS AMIDST A PUNGENT HAZE OF ESPRESSO AND EGG BITES. SO.
KARKAT: MAYBE I COULD JOIN YOU.

   Dave grins - because playing it cool lasted all of thirty seconds - and slides back the shower door in invitation.

DAVE: man you do not smell like egg bites
DAVE: not that i would care if you did but you dont
DAVE: espresso yes but thats a good thing
DAVE: get you a guy who smells like an unsweetened chai latte am i right
DAVE: they should start bottling eau du barista cause that shit is great
DAVE: getting pavloved into popping a boner over my morning coffee every goddamn day is maybe less great though

   Dave is rambling, because Karkat is stripping off his clothes with all the efficiency of a GI in the field, and damn if that isn’t hot enough to make him to start spilling some of his dumbest ever thoughts, completely unprovoked.

   Karkat pulls off the black t-shirt he was wearing under his sweatshirt, then glares over at Dave with it still bunched up around his elbows. Dave has to reach down and hold his dick at that, because this is the closest thing to a strip tease Karkat is ever going to give him, all charcoal skin and thick biceps and thick waist, and—

   Karkat shoves down his pants, irritably, and his grey boxers with them.

KARKAT: JESUS CHRIST. WHY DO YOU SAY THINGS LIKE THAT?
DAVE: like what
KARKAT: THAT. THE HYPERBOLE.
KARKAT: I *KNOW* YOU AREN’T ACTUALLY GETTING SEXUALLY EXCITED EVERY TIME YOU COME WITHIN SNIFFING DISTANCE OF A FUCKING LATTE, OK?
KARKAT: THAT’S JUST STRAIGHT UP RIDICULOUS.
KARKAT: MOVE OVER.

   Dave moves over. It’s a big, fancy walk-in shower, with plenty of space for both of them. Dave wishes it wasn’t. He wants to be crowded up against the wall, and kissed until he can’t breathe, shit, Karkat hasn’t even kissed him yet-

   His eyes rake over Karkat’s body again, now that he can see it all. He doesn’t have anything going on down there yet, all smooth and unassuming. A random bystander would have no idea what he’s packing, all coiled up inside his chitin - but Dave knows. He lies awake some nights, thinking about it. He could sculpt it out of clay from memory, every inch the same.

KARKAT: MY EYES ARE UP HERE, BULGEMUNCH.

   Karkat isn’t smiling so much as showing Dave his upper fangs in a way that is vaguely amused. He has one palm braced flat against the wall tile, and Dave gets that it’s just for balance, but it makes him look bigger - kind of imposing, in a very sexy way.

DAVE: pff
DAVE: like you werent blatantly checking out my dick when you came in
KARKAT: I COULDN’T HELP IT.
KARKAT: YOU WERE POINTING IT RIGHT AT ME.

   Dave still has a hand on his dick. Feeling all lit up under Karkat’s gaze, (warm, intense, maybe just as captivated by the sight of Dave as Dave is captivated by the sight of him), Dave drags his palm up along his length, slowly. His hips twitch forward a little, it feels so good.

DAVE: what you mean like this

KARKAT: NO, ACTUALLY-

   Karkat advances on him decisively, and manages to get hold of both of Dave’s wrists in one relatively smooth motion, urging him backwards, finally. Dave manually disables his impulse to react and just lets Karkat do it, lets himself be pressed back against the wall with his wrists pinned by his shoulders, Karkat’s claws digging into his flesh. They’re so close he can feel Karkat’s breath against his jaw, Karkat’s warm weight all over him.

   Karkat looks pointedly between them, where Dave’s dick is now pressed up against his hip, eagerly smearing precome near where Karkat’s navel would be, if he had one.

KARKAT: I THINK IT WAS MORE LIKE THIS.

   Then Karkat is kissing him, all tongue and teeth. Karkat has always kissed Dave like he has some kind of a personal problem with him, and Dave has never been able to get enough of it. How Karkat can be so fucking rough and gentle with him at the exact same time - how the backs of his wrists ache just the right amount as they’re pressed against the unforgiving tiles, how Karkat pulls Dave’s bottom lip between his fangs so carefully, and bites without breaking the skin.

   Both of them are getting drenched, the shower spray running down Dave’s back and Karkat’s front. Dave attempts to pull free one of his hands, and Karkat lets him. He runs it through Karkat’s hair just once, and tweaks one of his horns, which gets him a bite on the jaw in mock-revenge. Then he slips a hand between Karkat’s legs, to the hidden slit his bulge comes out from, because he wants to feel it emerging, wants to feel the tapered part at the tip slide between his fingers until it thickens and he has to move his whole hand to make room.

   And Dave loves showering with Karkat, because as soon as the water hits his lower body he’s unsheathing, all slick and ready without Dave even having to do any work. Karkat has told him before that it’s a reflex, and Dave really wants to know more about that - like, if he just dumped a glass of water on Karkat’s crotch while he was fully clothed, would it work the same? Would he be ready to go instantly, no foreplay required? What could the practical applications of this be? He makes a mental note to look into this later. For now, Dave is preoccupied, watching Karkat’s thick, dripping bulge glide easily up his palm and over his wrist.

DAVE: damn
DAVE: you know every time its been a while im like
DAVE: convinced i implanted some false memories into my own brain about this thing
DAVE: like how could it possibly be real and not just a product of my own wildest most xenophilic fantasies
DAVE: perfect size perfect shape
DAVE: all juicy and red like a maraschino cherry

   (Karkat actually cringes at that - but Dave continues undeterred, dragging his fingertips up the underside of it, feather-light.)

DAVE: but huh what do you know
DAVE: here it is in the flesh
DAVE: and i was right all along

   It’s another one of the things Dave doesn’t understand about Karkat: how he gets whenever Dave starts waxing poetic about his bulge. Karkat pulls back from where he’s been absently kissing Dave’s neck to look between them again, seemingly unmoved - not embarrassed, not cocky, but something Dave really can’t get to grips with. Clearly facetiously, Karkat asks him,

KARKAT: IS IT ALL YOU DREAMED OF AND MORE?

   But right as Dave is about to reply, Karkat’s bulge finds his dick all on its own, and wraps basically all the way around it, Twizzler-style. Dave’s breath leaves him in a rush. He tilts his head against the tiles, feels Karkat eagerly sucking at his pulse point, just under his ear, before his fangs drag against it, and Dave can only agree, laughing a little,

DAVE: hell yeah it is
DAVE: it really really is

   The shower is steaming up, enveloping them both in a dreamy haziness. Dave’s other hand was freed at some point, so he fists it in Karkat’s wet hair and drags him up for a kiss. He’s way too worked up already, and he only manages to ghost his lips against Karkat’s for a second before he’s distracted by how fucking good it feels when Karkat rocks his hips like he’s been doing, encouraging his bulge to pull back from Dave’s dick in increments, then tighten up around it again. Karkat’s bulge always gets viscous red fluid absolutely goddamn everywhere, (the water is running pink at their feet even now), and it has all these round, shallow hollows on its underside you wouldn’t even notice unless you were up close. Dave’s pretty sure there’s something they’re supposed to slot against, inside another troll - but whatever it is, Dave doesn’t have it, so it just feels all kinds of amazing, ribbed for his pleasure.

   Against Dave’s lips, Karkat breathes,

KARKAT: THIS IS THE WORST.

   Dave draws back, genuinely concerned for a second, until he catches the fiery-hot way Karkat is watching him from beneath dark eyelashes flecked with water droplets, and - yeah. Dave has seen this expression before. Usually right before Karkat pushes him down by the shoulders and fucks him right into the mattress like he’s on a mission to grind Dave’s prostate to a fine pulp. Something inside him twists in anticipation at that, and he nudges the tip of Karkat’s nose playfully with his own, pressing their foreheads together like he’s going in for another kiss, but he stops just short.

DAVE: really
DAVE: cause it sure doesnt seem like the worst

   Dave moves his hips, this time, and watches smugly as Karkat bites his own bottom lip in barely-suppressed pleasure.

DAVE: seems like youre kinda really into it actually

   Karkat squeezes his eyes shut for a second, and takes a deep, shuddering breath. Then he opens them, and looks Dave straight in his eyes with clear determination.

KARKAT: NOT *THIS*, I MEAN -
KARKAT: YOU MAKE ME CRAZY. YOU KNOW THAT, RIGHT?
KARKAT: ACTUALLY CLINICALLY INSANE.
KARKAT: I’VE THOUGHT ABOUT IT, AND I DON’T THINK SEX IS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THIS. BECAUSE IF IT WAS, PEOPLE WOULDN’T DO ANYTHING ELSE. EVERYONE WOULD SIMPLY QUIT THEIR JOBS EN MASSE AND STOP GOING OUTSIDE, AND SOCIETY WOULD BE DESTROYED.
KARKAT: AND THIS IS MY LIFE NOW.
KARKAT: AND THERE ISN’T A SINGLE FUCKING THING I CAN DO ABOUT IT.

   The admission makes Dave shiver, because he feels the same way - that is what this is. Society-destroying sex, alarmingly good, completely irresistible to Dave whenever he’s in a hundred-mile radius.

   He wants it all the time. He’s lucky if he even gets it twice a year.

   He wants to lean in close to Karkat’s ear and go on and on and on about it, under his breath while they’re all tangled up together like this. How Karkat makes Dave insane, too - because he’s the best Dave’s had, ever. That he’s played the starring role in Dave’s jerkoff fantasies since the first time, and despite some Oscar-worthy performances in Dave’s imagination it’s still always better in person, the way Karkat somehow always surprises him, always makes him lose his mind in the best possible way.

   But instead of saying any of this, he presses their bodies together, sticks out his tongue and licks the shell of Karkat’s ear all the way up to the cute little pointed tip, and tells him,

DAVE: i can think of one thing you could do about it

   Karkat growls - actually growls, some kind of throaty bug noise that goes straight to Dave’s still-captive dick - and takes Dave by the jaw to kiss him again, hard. At the same time, he reaches for the dial to shut off the shower - but Dave, flash-quick, grabs his forearm before he manages it.

DAVE: we could do it here

   And Karkat doesn’t even say anything - just stares at Dave for one long, burning moment before taking him by the shoulder and shoving him chest-first against the wall. Dave goes easily, grinning with uninhibited excitement the second he knows Karkat can’t see his face anymore. He folds his arms against the tiles, braces his forehead against them, the shower spray coming down hot on his lower back. He shifts his feet apart so he can balance, obviously, but also so Karkat can—

   Dave feels something shift behind him. Trimmed claws rake over the backs of his thighs, and something nudges against his ankle. It doesn’t quite make sense, anatomically speaking, so Dave glances down, past his own hard-on and between his legs. Karkat is kneeling on the floor, and before Dave can fully process what this means, Karkat drags his 250-grit-sandpaper troll tongue right over his balls from behind.

   Or - just one, actually. Then the other one. Dave stares at the droplets sliding down the wall in front of him, not even daring to fucking move. Karkat has never shown any kind of interest in his balls before - he has only ever handled them perfunctorily, if respectfully. But Karkat keeps laving his tongue over the skin like he can’t help himself, and Dave lets out a shaky breath, and feels his dick jump all on its own. He’s right on the brink of giddily asking Karkat what the hell has come over him when Karkat’s whole hand comes up to grab Dave’s left ass cheek, not very gently, and Dave gets what Karkat is trying to do right as he feels himself being spread open, the distinct sensation of being exposed.

   Dave’s thoughts fizzle to static. He can hear how hard Karkat is breathing even over the hissing of the shower. Dave wonders if Karkat can hear him breathing too, all ragged and hitching, every muscle in his body tense with anticipation.

   Then Karkat leans forward suddenly, digs his claws into Dave’s thigh and just fucking does it. He drags his weird amazing alien tongue right over Dave’s asshole, and it’s like nothing Dave has ever experienced. He melts against the wall, and shoves his mouth against his own forearm to muffle his voice, because he really doesn’t know what kind of sounds might come out of him if he doesn’t.

   No-one has ever done this to him before.

   And Dave has to reach down and grab his dick, has to, stroking himself like he does when he’s alone, because if Karkat Vantas is going to eat him out, nobody in the whole damn universe could possibly blame him for coming.

   He kind of expects Karkat to tell him not to, or just reach around and tug his hand away. Instead, Karkat goes back at it with twice the enthusiasm and what seems like absolute concentration, licking and licking. Dave hopes it never ends, and hears himself muttering against his own skin,

DAVE: please dont stop
DAVE: i mean
DAVE: god
DAVE: you can stop if you want to stop obviously i just mean
DAVE: i dont want you to stop

   Karkat squeezes his thigh in a way Dave thinks is supposed to be reassuring. Dave strokes himself a little faster, and with a little more finesse. He mutters other things, after that, mostly in the vein of oh, god, fuck and yeah, just like that, until he’s chanting Karkat, Karkat, Karkat because it’s the only word in his brain anymore, the only thing he can think as he goes over the edge, and his knees almost give out as he comes all over the artfully patterned tiles.

   Karkat doesn’t let up until he’s really done. Dave watches the last spurt of it dribble out of him, and feels sort of insane, full of strange emotions. Before he can think too hard about this, Karkat is pressing up against his back, hugging him tentatively around the middle - not quite with affection, but more like he thinks Dave might be at risk of collapsing.

   The first time Karkat ever fucked him, Dave saw not only stars but whole galaxies and universes behind his eyelids. Afterwards, lying there face-down in the sheets, Karkat still breathless and heavy at his back, he had murmured, You’re like my own personal Hubble Space Telescope.

   Now, with Karkat sighing quietly and peppering little bites all over his shoulder, Dave feels in danger of saying something even more stupid than that.

DAVE: that was
DAVE: jesus
DAVE: that was really something
DAVE: i honestly didnt know my asshole was that sensitive

   Karkat hugs him tighter. Dave thinks about maybe peeling himself off the wall at some point, but he’s feeling good still, boneless and warm in the afterglow, so he doesn’t.

KARKAT: OH REALLY? YOU DIDN’T KNOW?
KARKAT: DAVE STRIDER, HE WHO HABITUALLY SUMMONS ME FROM MY HUMDRUM LIFE FOR THE SOLE, EXPLICIT PURPOSE OF PUTTING MY BULGE INSIDE HIS WASTE CHUTE, HAD ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA THERE ARE NERVE ENDINGS BACK THERE WHICH COULD, IF MANIPULATED IN A CERTAIN WAY, EVOKE PLEASURABLE SENSATIONS?

DAVE: yeah i didnt know
DAVE: totally brand spanking new information
DAVE: thank you o wise karkat for enlightening me i really-

  Karkat’s bulge chooses that exact moment to slide itself between them, and all the way up the line of Dave’s ass crack. Dave feels Karkat go completely still all over, tensing up - except his bulge, the tip of which continues its curious explorations in the region of Dave's tailbone.

   Dave glances back over his shoulder as he says casually,

DAVE: hey
DAVE: you can choose
DAVE: ass or thighs

   Sharply, Karkat raises his head, his expression tense but otherwise indecipherable.

KARKAT: WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?

DAVE: you heard me man
DAVE: i said you can choose ass or thighs
DAVE: anal or intercrural if you want to be academic about it
DAVE: my whole lower half is open invitation right now and youre on the vip list
DAVE: respondez s’il vous plait

   Dave wiggles his ass back a little bit to emphasise his point. He's still watching Karkat, so he has a front-row seat to the way Karkat closes his eyes on a harsh exhale, and presses his closed mouth against Dave’s shoulder. His brows are drawn like he’s thinking, and he looks almost pained, as if he’s waging some kind of internal war with himself all of a sudden. 

   Dave stops wiggling - he feels, in fact, pretty stupid for wiggling. He ducks his head, turning back to the wall so he doesn’t have to see whatever incriminating facial expression Karkat is going to make next as he clears his throat and adds,

DAVE: i mean uh
DAVE: unless you dont want to

   For some reason, that does it.

KARKAT: OF COURSE I FUCKING WANT TO.

   Karkat doesn’t even bother trying to get his bulge between Dave’s thighs, or in his ass. Instead, he picks the secret third option, and just starts grinding exactly where he is, his bulge heavy and slick against Dave’s skin and between the not-so-generous curves of his glutes.

KARKAT: I ALWAYS WANT TO. EVERY DAY. ALL THE TIME.
KARKAT: I WISH-
KARKAT: I WISH YOU LIVED HERE.

   Feeling weirdly touched by this admission, Dave reaches down to where Karkat’s hand is still resting against his stomach, and laces their fingers together. Karkat gets his other hand on the wall in front of him, for leverage, his claws scratching on the tiles.

DAVE: yeah
DAVE: what would you do if i did
DAVE: would you fuck me every single night

   Karkat doesn’t respond, just nods almost frantically against Dave’s back and keeps fucking against him. Dave has to really plant his feet to keep his balance, rocking back against Karkat just the right amount. It isn’t just Karkat’s bulge that’s heavy, his whole body is too, and Dave loves that shit, is starting to get hard over it again even though this is supposed to be Karkat’s turn.

DAVE: god this is so hot
DAVE: youre so hot
DAVE: you know the first time ever i saw you i was thinking to myself
DAVE: good lord this random dude looks like he could make me forget my own name
DAVE: and i didnt even know you- ah
DAVE: fuck

   Dave falters, distracted, because Karkat has traded in the hand-holding for wrapping his calloused fingers around Dave’s half-hard dick instead, so fucking gently. Dave isn’t going to come again, and Karkat must know that, but he’s touching him still, not so much jerking him off as letting him be dragged along in the way Karkat’s whole body is rutting against him, over and over.

   Karkat’s voice is strained and a little broken when he says,

KARKAT: KEEP GOING.

   His composure all the way out the window at this point, Dave obliges as best he can,

DAVE: youre so amazing youre just
DAVE: fuck, karkat
DAVE: i saw you and i wanted you and i didnt even know you were going to be-
DAVE: be the best i ever fuckin'—

   Karkat bites down on Dave’s shoulder when he comes, a sharp spike of pain that has Dave forgetting whatever the hell he was about to say. Dave couldn’t care less, because he feels shot straight to the moon when he feels Karkat shuddering, spilling all over his ass and down the backs of his thighs.

   Dave lets his forehead drop against the tiles, and watches with exhausted satisfaction as half-diluted red fluid runs down the drain between his feet.

   Dave pretty much never invited anyone back to his hotel rooms, before Karkat.

   Mostly this was because he had some real concerns about someone stealing his shit, or taking photos of him while he was asleep and selling them to TMZ.

   It wasn’t exactly the plan with Karkat, either. Dave had been alone in Miami for the weekend, and bored out of his goddamn mind. Late on Sunday afternoon, he had gone for a Starbucks, ordered his usual overly creative nine-dollar coffee, and weirdly kinda liked the way the cute Alternian barista rolled his eyes like Dave was the biggest tool in the known universe. 

   So Dave had scribbled his chumhandle on the receipt, and slid it back across the counter.

   Then he watched stoically as the barista scowled, clearly not a huge fan of being hit on at work, and crumpled the receipt up right in front of Dave’s eyes.

   Dave had shrugged it off, then taken his iced coffee back to his hotel room - at the Ritz-Carlton, because back then he was going through a phase of staying at Ritzes just because he could - and fucked around on his computer for the rest of the evening and night. He was was mixing some new stuff, experimenting with his sound. He was fresh off winning Best New Artist at the Grammys, and he planned to release a basically never-ending stream of shitty singles in the wake of it, to really saturate the market with his own beats and voice, for the bit.
 
   Just after three o’clock in the morning, he got a Pesterchum notification.

— carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]! —

CG: IF THIS IS YOUR IDEA OF A PRANK, I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT IT ISN’T FUNNY, AND YOU’RE A REPUGNANT, EXPLOITATIVE DOUCHE OF THE HIGHEST CALIBER.
CG: OR SHOULD I SAY THE LOWEST CALIBER?
CG: WHO CARES. LET'S GO WITH WHICHEVER CALIBER MAKES YOU THE BIGGER PIECE OF SHIT.
CG: WAS SOMEONE FILMING ME, ASSHOLE? AM I GOING TO BE ON FUCKING “PUNK’D”?
TG: yeah im calling ashton kutcher as we speak
TG: that show stopped airing in like 2012 but were gonna reboot it just for you
TG: feels like you have a tenuous grasp on what a prank is bro
TG: what would the endgame be exactly
TG: you agree to go out with me and then i come by your house and pelt you with eggs like in never been kissed
TG: in the words of the dad from modern family this is real life not an excellent movie
CG: OK.
CG: I GET IT.
CG: YOU KNOW WHAT? I CHANGED MY MIND.
CG: I’D RATHER YOU WERE PRANKING ME, BECAUSE THE FACT THAT YOU AUTOMATICALLY JUST *ASSUMED* I’D FALL TO MY KNEES TO SLEEP WITH YOU IS BEYOND REPREHENSIBLE.
CG: FOR THE RECORD, I THINK YOUR MUSIC FUCKING SUCKS. AND I DIDN’T EVEN RECOGNISE YOU UNTIL YOU LEFT AND ALL OF MY IDIOT COWORKERS STARTED RUNNING AROUND LIKE SO MANY RECENTLY BEHEADED SQUAWKBEASTS.
TG: i know you didnt
TG: and hey for the record i think my music fucking sucks too
TG: but folks keep streaming it and im just giving the people what they want
TG: im humble like that
TG: forever a slave to the entertainment whims of the general populace what can i say
TG: also
TG: circling back
TG: who said anything about sleeping with me
CG: OH COME ON!
CG: DO YOU THINK I WAS HATCHED YESTERDAY, SLIMEBALL?
CG: WHAT OTHER IMPLICATION COULD GIVING ME YOUR CHUMHANDLE POSSIBLY HAVE?
TG: well its moot now but i was actually gonna ask you to dinner
TG: not as part of a nefarious plot or defunct reality tv show but just cus i thought you were hotter than an americano in a lawsuit and i just figured
TG: i dunno
TG: maybe we could hang out
CG: …REALLY?
TG: really
CG: WELL.
CG: I’M FREE TOMORROW?
TG: cant
TG: im only in town for tonight
TG: i gotta catch a flight to new york in the morning
CG: OH.
TG: yeah

   Dave sat there for a while, his fingers resting on the keys. He glanced out of the window, where the moon was hanging round and full in the sky. Beneath it, city lights twinkled in the far distance. He was staying in South Beach, isolated from the rest of Miami by a network of over-water bridges and causeways. Nobody normal lived out here, he was pretty sure. The whole place had given him the impression of being some kind of rich-people quarantine zone, which was perhaps what he deserved for blowing almost a thousand dollars a night on a hotel room.

   Dave tapped absently at his spacebar, drumming a vague rhythm in time with his heartbeat, weighing his options.

   He was alone a lot.

   And even when he wasn’t alone, he felt like he was, always surrounded by people he didn’t really know, and almost nobody he actually liked.

   What did really he have to lose?

TG: i mean
TG: you could like
TG: come over
TG: if you wanted
TG: im not going to bed anytime soon my sleep schedule is beyond fucked up rn
TG: and i guess yours is too since youre messaging me at 3am
TG: we just could watch a movie or something
TG: are you into that

   When Dave woke in the late morning, still wrapped in the debris of last night’s clothes and with a bottle of lube wedged uncomfortably under his left hip, Karkat was gone. Deciding it was okay to be super fucking lame so long as nobody was watching, Dave had searched the room for a note, but there wasn’t one. His wallet was in the nightstand drawer where he’d left it, and there were no candids of his sleeping face on TMZ.com.

   When no Pesterchum messages came through in the next couple of days, Dave figured he knew how to take a hint, and resolved to forget about the whole thing.

   Only the next time Dave had been back in Florida, it was five months later, and he hadn’t forgotten. He felt like he had unfinished business still, like there was something he needed to say to Karkat - but what? Thanks for the sex, seems like you kinda never want to hear from me again but idk just for the record it was good, scary good even, like somebody slipped you the dave strider bodily cheat codes while i wasnt looking and you hit the high score, your dick is in the hall of fame forever what do you think about that? On the flight, he mulled it over, developed an unfortunate erection, and spent the rest of the trip staring unseeing at Return of the King playing out on the screen in front of him, with a pillow in his lap, trying and failing to talk himself out of what he was pretty sure he was going to do.

   Standing with his shades on in the hot, unforgiving sun outside of MIA, he texted:

TG: yo karkat
TG: what are you doing tonight
  
   And Karkat replied, just seconds later,

CG: YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME.