Work Text:
twinArmageddons [TA] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]
TA: kk are you there?
TA: dude iit2 2eriiou2.
TA: ii 2wear two fuck iif youre two bu2y fondliing your cru2ty bulge two help me iin my tiime of need.
TA: ii know iit2 the only expo2ure two moonliight iit get2 but for real thii2 ii2 iimportant.
CG: WOW, AFTER SUCH LAVISH FLATTERY I AM SIMPLY OVERCOME WITH DESIRE TO HELP YOU WITH ONE OF YOUR MANY IMBECILIC PROBLEMS.
CG: REALLY. I'M FUCKING SWOONING HERE. GET READY TO CATCH ME BECAUSE I'M TUMBLING NUGBONE OVER STRUT POD TO AID YOUR SPASMODIC ASS AND EVERY VAPID OBSTACLE YOUR EXCUSE OF A THINKPAN CAN INVENT. THIS IS A FULL-ON TRUST EXERCISE, "DUDE", LOOK AT ALL THIS FUCKING FAITH WE'RE SHITTING OUT OF OUR PUTRID ORIFICES. I DO BELIEVE IN FAIRIES! I DO! I DO!
TA: …
TA: riight.
TA: are you done beiing the biigge2t fuckiing drama kiing thii2 planet ha2 ever known or 2hould ii go grab a coffee?
CG: AS TEMPTING AS IT IS TO PROLONG YOUR SUFFERING, YES, I'M FINISHED. WHAT'S WRONG?
TA: ok but ju2t try not two be a major douchelord about iit.
TA: plea2e.
CG: PLEASE? GOD, YOU'RE FREAKING ME OUT.
CG: FINE, I WILL HOLD BACK MY ASTUTE AND WITTY REMARKS, YOUR HIGHNESS. ARE YOU OK?
TA: yeah. ii mean ii thiink 2o.
TA: iim not iin paiin or anythiing, ju2t kiinda 2ore.
TA: 2o, ii molted but ii thiink 2omethiing2 gone wrong.
CG: WHAT? YOU MOLTED??
CG: WERE YOU EVER GOING TO NOTIFY ME OF THIS SIGNIFICANT FUCKING LIFE EVENT OR DID YOU DECIDE IT WAS BETTER TO WAIT UNTIL I SHOWED UP AT YOUR DILAPIDATED HIVE STEM, NAIVE AND WIDE-EYED, HOPING FOR SOME HONEST BRO-ON-BRO TIME ONLY TO BE MET WITH YOUR SHRIVELLED ATTEMPT OF A FULL-GROWN BODY.
CG: hey kk thorry ii diidnt tell you that ii became a fuckiing adult latht month ii diidnt thiink youd care!
TA: dude ii told you two not be a complete 2hiit about thii2. iim beiing bulge2hiitiingly 2iincere riight now, 2omethiing ii2 wrong.
CG: OK, OK. I'M SORRY, SHITSTICK. GO ON.
TA: promii2e me you wont tell a 2oul about thii2.
CG: HOLY SHIT, YES. GET ON WITH IT BEFORE MY THUMP TORTOISE GIVES OUT.
TA: ok, so.
TA: are rumble 2phere2 2uppo2ed two leak?
TA: kk? hello?
TA: for fuck2 2ake. fiine, iill a2k 2omeone el2e.
CG: NO!
CG: NO. I'M HERE. I JUST WASN'T EXPECTING THAT, THAT'S ALL.
CG: UM, WHAT ARE THEY LEAKING? IT'S NOT BLOOD, IS IT?
TA: no, iit2 whiite. liike a… ugh, thii2 ii2 2o embarra22iing.
CG: TELL ME.
TA: liike a moobeas2t. ii thiink iits fuckiing miilk.
TA: diid that happen two you when you molted? there2 fuckall about iit onliine.
TA: ii dont know what two do. what the fuck ii2 wrong wiith me? iim already enough of a goddamn freak ii dont need THII2 two.
TA: kk, iim fuckiing 2cared.
CG: NO, YOU'RE FINE. YOU'RE FUCKING FINE, THIS IS NORMAL. JUST BECAUSE IT HASN'T HAPPENED TO ANYONE ELSE DOESN'T MEAN IT ISN'T NORMAL.
TA: not helpiing.
CG: SHIT, SORRY. IT'S NOT OBVIOUS, IS IT? I MEAN, NOBODY EVEN HAS TO KNOW! WHAT THE EMPIRE DOESN'T KNOW, CAN'T CULL US FOR. RIGHT?
TA: a2 iif iim gonna fly over two the nearest drone and confe22 the full extent of my phy2iical mutatiion2.
CG: THEN WHAT'S THE ISSUE? ALL WE NEED TO DO IS PRETEND THIS ISN'T A THING THAT IS INDEED HAPPENING AND GO ON OUR MERRY WAY, SHOVING ALL POTENTIAL EMOTIONS AND FEARS TO THE BACK OF THE METAPHORICAL CLOSET, NEVER TO BE ADDRESSED AGAIN.
TA: ii gue22. iit2 ju2t gettiing kiind of paiinful.
CG: IT HURTS?
TA: not exactly. iits more of an ache, almo2t liike theyre gettiing fuller.
CG: OH.
TA: look, feel free to tell me to fuck off and pretend thii2 conver2atiion never happened but iif youd be ok wiith iit… ii dont know. could you come over and help?
CG: UH. HELP?
TA: yeah, liike, get the miilk out. iive triied doiing iit my2elf but iit2 not workiing.
CG: HOW THE FUCK COULD I HELP? I'VE NEVER MILKED A MOOBEAST BEFORE.
CG: OH, SHIT. NOT THAT I'M SAYING YOU ARE ONE, I JUST. FUCK.
TA: heh. no, ii get you.
TA: ii just thought maybe iif iit were someone el2e iit miight work.
TA: but iit2 a 2uper weiird thing to get you two do, 2orry ii a2ked.
TA: gz would probably do iit, riight? nothiing pha2e2 that guy.
CG: UGH, NO, DON'T ASK THAT BRAIN DEAD ASSHOLE. YOU'D GET STUCK IN AN HOUR-LONG SERMON ON THE BENEFITS OF GRUBFUCKING GARBAGE LIKE MOON MIST FLAVORED FAYGO, WHATEVER THAT IS.
CG: I CAN COME OVER.
TA: 2eriiou2ly? thii2 wont make iit weiird between u2, riight?
CG: OF COURSE NOT. WHAT'S A CASUAL MILKING BETWEEN FRIENDS.
You're an idiot.
Why did you agree to this? Why must you be so horrifically magnanimous all the time? They always say trolls who shove their sniffnodes in other trolls' business get them bitten off and, what a surprise, they're right!
You stand in front of his door, half hoping he'll never answer, and ask yourself very sincerely how the fuck you're going to do this without popping a wriggly.
This isn't a thing trolls should be capable of, this isn't normal or right, and yet the idea of Sollux producing milk like some four-legged lusus for its young makes you break out in sweat. What is it like, is it thick and creamy? Does it taste sweet? Jesus, what if he’s grown massive spheres like the Empress has? Would he let you—
"Hey, KK."
He's cracked the door open enough to peek out at you, even half-hidden you can see how his final molt has changed him. His skin has lost the soft and glossy look of youth and hardened into a protective membrane. He's still gangly and too thin but his edges are less awkward, it's become a natural leanness instead of starvation taking hold. His teeth finally fit his mouth and, without his ridiculous overbite, he actually looks pretty good in a stressed and unwashed kind of way. Not that you'll tell him that, as if you’d risk his ego getting any bigger.
And, damn, he's tall. Fuck, you missed your one opportunity to tower over him. Why couldn’t you have come over a perigee earlier and lorded over him in all your impressive glory?
You stop your creepy appraisal before your eyes wander any lower and make things weirder. At least you notice he's taking you in too, noticing all your subtle changes.
"Uh, hi." You cringe at how deep your voice is.
You’re not kids anymore and it doesn't feel right. Just a few perigees ago, you were both moronic wigglers, play-acting as adults. Now you're the real thing, dealing with real problems. Like fucking lactation. Maybe if you pretend this isn't Sollux. Yeah, this is his hot ancestor who has just arrived back from intergalactic piloting. He'll shake your hand, tell you how impressed the Threshecutioners are with your sickle skills, and reward you with a nice peek underneath his uniform.
Nope. Definitely not helping.
"Thanks for coming," he says even though he looks mortified you actually showed up.
"Don't get all fucking sappy with me now, Captor. I'm doing this purely out of moral obligation and a malfunctioning thinkpan. Save the gratitude for when I show your ass up in Crawl of Duty and teach you how the pros play it, all right?"
"Jesus, I think molting actually made you crabbier."
He stands aside to let you in and, bam, you're stuck alone with him until further notice. Maybe if a freak accident happened, or some kind of bullshit clown miracle, you could sneak out of here.
No, stop. It'll be fine. This is Sollux, you're talking about. Your best friend for sweeps, the guy you trust with your most embarrassing secrets, the troll you'd kill for. Oh, fuck, this is Sollux. You can't do this, this could ruin everything—
"So." He still stumbles a little on the s and you're somehow relieved the lisp remains. "Look, I'd offer you a drink or something, but my tits are fucking throbbing. Can we just get it over with?"
"Uh, yeah."
Why did he have to say it like that? So bluntly. Hasn't he got any basic decency? Your face is burning, you can't even look at him. Instead, you look down, trying hard not to stare at his chest—because, sure, that's why you're here, but you have manners—even though you know you'll fail. Your eyes are drawn there, it's out of your control. His spheres aren't any bigger from what you can see, but two wet spots are dampening his shirt, moisture spreading out as his nipples rub against the fabric.
His breath hitches. Guess he noticed you gaping at him like a wriggler watching his first porno. You look up at his face. His eyes are glowing, have they always done that? Fluorescent red and blue dust his cheekbones, his mouth is soft and open. Inviting. Just the slightest hint of fang surrounded by pliant lips.
"Touch me." Even as he says it, he's backing away like his body and mind can't decide what he needs. His back hits the wall, and he stays there, trapped like prey when it knows the hunt is over.
His movements send a waft of smell in your direction and your knees almost buckle. It's like freshly made cookies, a warm bed on a cold evening, it's safe. Your mouth is watering for him, for his milk. You want to hold him and pet him, spread him open and plug him your bulge, make him whine and cry and squirt until all you know is his taste.
What. You shake your head. That's not normal. Right? Sollux is waiting for you, open and vulnerable, his neck bared in submission. Yeah, that's weird. But your head feels so fuzzy and he smells so fucking good you can't bring yourself to care.
You stumble over to him but don't touch. You want to, your hands are twitching at your sides impatiently, but it feels right to wait for his assent.
"You don't have to do this."
"I want to."
You can't keep track of who's saying what. He speaks, his lips move, but his voice sounds from inside you. And it's warm, so warm and gentle, the words he says to you, as they echo through your heart and lungs and stomach. They're everything you've always wanted to hear. Even as you press your mouth against his, you can still hear him speaking. The words are feelings and the feelings are colors and the world seems so safe with him, like you were always meant to be here.
"KK, what's happening?"
"Dunno."
"Maybe we should take a breather."
You feel like you're moving through sopor. Thinking is so tiring. Why is he thinking when he should be kissing you? You hope he'll let you touch his tits soon; they must be so tender. You can feel his milk soaking into your top
"Karkat!"
You blink as he darts to the side, out of your reach.
"Something is wrong, this is like some kind of animal mating crap. Shit, I can't concentrate. You smell so strong, KK, but it's good and I can't—I don't want to make you—you should probably go before anything else happens."
Now that he's moved away, it's easier to think. You're still dizzy and he's still beautiful and tempting, standing there all dishevelled and flushed from your attention, but you can focus if you try hard enough.
"You wouldn't be making me." You avoid his eyes, or you'll be too embarrassed to say everything you need to say. "I wanted to before. Before I even got here. Even before you told me about your, uh, problem."
"Oh."
"Eloquence has always been your greatest skill."
"Shut up, you're spoiling the moment." He sounds like he's smiling. You refuse to look at him until you feel less like jumping out of a window. "That makes things easy then."
And then he's back in your personal space, his scent flooding your senses again. He takes your hands, your skin tingling where he touches, and brings them under his shirt. He's softer here, the tough skin waning into the vulnerable midsection where his organs are kept. You bask in the trust he has to let you feel him here, your eyes slipping shut as you feel the small spheres beneath your hands.
"They've grown. I know it doesn't seem like it but they're getting bigger."
Your mind conjures images of them growing even more until they're heavy in your palms, straining against his shirt. So full of milk, ready for your mouth.
You can do little more than breathe as he pulls his top over his head, revealing everything to your gaze. Your hands engulf his tits, his nipples peek out from between your fingers, swollen. He covers your hands with his own and squeezes; together, you force out a stream of milk until it runs down your joined hands and onto the floor.
"I tried this before you got here, but it's not enough. There's so much—fuck!"
You run your thumbs over his nipples, smudging milk over the hot peaks, circling around the areolas.
The world is dark at the edges, but he's outlined, glowing, the only thing that isn't blurry and moving. Afraid the rocking of the room will tilt you over, you cling onto him, and feel more liquid spray over your skin in hallowed droplets. You've discovered a newfound appreciation for religion; you could absolutely worship this.
He's looking down at you with such benevolence.
Taste me.
You lean in closer. Anything to be nearer to his smell, his smile, his heat.
Consume me.
His hand cups the back of your head, sliding through your hair, igniting your skin.
Devour me.
He pulls you to his breast. You don't resist, you wouldn't even if you had the strength to do so. Your mouth parts for his nipple, your tongue and lips find their place with an instinct you didn't know you had.
You suck, and milk fills your mouth. Not cold, like it is from the thermal hull, but warming and honeyed, blazing a path down your throat. It's rich on your tongue and it relieves a thirst you'd forgotten you had. The need for comfort, soothing, love. You gorge on him, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close.
"You're all right." The voice in your ear—Sollux?— is breathless, strained like they're in great pleasure or pain. "I've got you, KK."
"More." You're unwilling to pull away from the teat so the word comes out as a muffled mrr, but the voice seems to know what you need.
"Drink your fill, there's plenty for you."
Phantom hands pull down your pants and push your hips forward. You feel something wet squirm against your stomach before it moves down to encircle your bulge, squeezing and throbbing around it.
A finger breaks the seal between your mouth and the nipple. You’re whimpering in distress as you’re parted but before you can complain more, you're moved to another, dribbling with fresh milk. The flesh is puffy against you, distressed, and oversensitive as you run your tongue over it. You want it to feel better. You want it filling you with its milk. In your mouth, your nose, your nook, your ass. You want it in every hole, pumping into you until every canal, tube, and vein is flooded. Sollux will look after you, he'll keep you nice and stuffed.
The thing constricting your bulge tugs you closer until you reach an oozing slit, hot and waiting. It winks around you, welcoming you inside it. You're forced to stop suckling when a moan chokes from your throat; the slit is pulsing, mouthing at your bulge like it still needs more. The sweet voice is crying out, echoing throughout you, begging you to satiate it. Jumbled words flutter through you, holding on tight to the edges of your bones.
So hungry. You've been so wonderful, Karkat. It's time now. You're safe with me, you can let go. Drink from me, drink my milk. Breed me. You're so strong, so brave. Let me keep you safe. Come for me, Karkat, please. Please please please—
"Please." Sollux arches against you. "Fuck, yes, almost there."
And then everything is silent besides a ringing in your ears. The world is gone and all you know is pleasure. Your body goes limp from it as surge after surge washes over you. There's so much. So much feeling, warmth, liquid. It's too much.
You're all right. I've got you, KK.
Pulse by pulse, it fades. You open your eyes and realise you're still pressed against Sollux's breast. And then your legs catch up to your brain, realise they're exhausted, and promptly drop you to the floor with only a large orange puddle to break your fall. Sollux tumbles down with you, apparently having been using you as a support beam.
You sit there and stare at each other for a while as the sweet smell is replaced by the musky scent of genetic material.
"What the fuck was that." Are the first words you manage to cobble together after collecting most of your brain off of the floor.
Sollux shrugs, the useless bastard.
"That's all I get? A fucking shrug?" You throw your arms up in an exaggerated I-don’t-know motion. "I don’t get anything else? Not even a ‘ thankth for pailing my brainth out, dude, thorry I didn't warn you about the thex pollen I'm secreting from my ath’?"
“As if you didn’t enjoy it, bulgelicker.”
“Yes, a measly quantity of entertainment negates all opportunities to criticise heinous assholes and their godforsaken fornication venom. Seriously though, what just happened?”
“Well, the horniness, the mating pheromones, the lactating... I think I’m in heat.”
Oh. Now that he’s said it, it’s pretty obvious. Doesn’t fully explain the boobs thing but, hey, Sollux Captor being a huge freak of nature isn’t anything new. The guy is probably even worse off than you in the mutant department and you’re a straight-up cullable offence.
“I should’ve figured it out earlier. If I’d just fucking thought about it for a second, I would’ve put two and two together and wouldn’t have dragged you into more of my stupid bullshit.”
“No, no, no. You are not going all self-pitying on me right now. This is me cutting your melodramatic crap.” You chop the air. “Consider that fucker sliced and diced for your humble enjoyment. You didn’t drag me anywhere. I was the one who couldn’t keep my fronds out of your shit for five fucking seconds!”
“What are you talking about? I came to you for help. I asked you to come here and feel me up.”
“And I could’ve said no! Jesus fuck, are we going to go round in pedantic circles all goddamn night until one of us mercifully dies of boredom, or better yet, just jumps down the elevator shaft and puts us both out of our misery? I liked fucking your depressing husk of a body and I’d do it again, rumpy-pumpy copulation magic or not. Can your thick skull and pitiful self-esteem comprehend that, you putrid waste of space, or do I need to explain myself in small, simple words for you to grasp any fucking understanding?”
A smile tugs at the corner of Sollux’s mouth. “Yeah, I’d love to waste more of the night listening to you screech at me. Please, go on.”
“Haha, wise guy, you’re so fucking funny, really the pinnacle of comedy. How about you do some talking and apologise for ruining my pants, huh?” You motion to your red-and-yellow-stained trousers still around your ankles.
“Fuck no, that’s the best thing I’ve seen all pedigree. But, shit, thanks for helping. You didn’t have to, and it’s fucking awesome that you did. So, yeah, thank you.” He stares furiously at the floor. “And I liked fucking you too. Maybe next time we can just do it vanilla style, no sex fairy dust or whatever.”
“And we’re still friends?”
He barks out a laugh and nudges your shoulder with his. “Yeah, asshole, we’re still friends.”