Chapter 17: The Reward
The smell of pine clung to Karkat’s cramped apartment, thick and familiar. The only light came from the humming vintage computer monitor and a single, dusty lamp casting long shadows across piles of comic books and discarded game controllers. Silence pressed in, broken only by the low whir of cooling fans and the frantic thudding of Karkat’s own heart against his ribs. His phone lay heavy in his lap, screen dark. Waiting.
Then it buzzed. A single, sharp vibration that jolted him. The notification glowed: TurntechGodhead - Video Attachment.
He fumbled, fingers suddenly clumsy, nearly dropping the device. He stabbed the screen. The video loaded agonizingly slow, a spinning wheel mocking his impatience. Then, Dave’s face filled the screen, slightly distorted by the fisheye lens of his phone propped clumsily on what looked like a stack of textbooks. Tripod. Right.
Dave’s shades were pushed up onto his messy blonde hair, revealing wide, startled crimson eyes. They darted nervously, avoiding the lens. His cheeks were flushed a deep pink, spreading down his neck. He looked impossibly young, impossibly exposed.
"Uh. Hey." Dave’s voice was a low, hesitant rasp, barely audible over the ambient hum of his own room. He cleared his throat. "So. Karkat said… uh. To try this. The… the hole thing." He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing. "Said I should… film it. Prove I did it. Fuckin'… whatever."
The camera angle shifted slightly as Dave adjusted something off-screen. It settled, framing him from the waist up as he sat on what looked like his own bed, sheets rumpled. He wore only a thin, worn grey t-shirt. Below the frame, Karkat knew, lay bare skin, trembling thighs. Dave’s gaze flickered down, then back up, a flicker of panic in his eyes.
"Okay. So." He reached off-screen. Karkat leaned forward, breath catching. Dave’s hand returned holding a small bottle of lube and the sleek, black vibrator Karkat had bought him – the one Dave had scoffed at, called ‘extra’, then hidden away. Dave stared at them like unexploded ordnance.
"Lube first, right?" Dave muttered, more to himself than the camera. He squeezed a generous dollop onto his fingers. The slick sound was obscenely loud in the quiet room. He stared at his glistening fingers, then took a shaky breath. His other hand disappeared below the frame. Karkat could imagine it pushing down the waistband of his briefs.
Dave’s eyes squeezed shut for a second, his brow furrowed in intense concentration. Then, his breath hitched audibly. A sharp gasp escaped him. "Fuck… cold." His head tipped back slightly, exposing the long line of his throat. His free hand gripped the edge of the mattress, knuckles white.
Karkat watched, mesmerized, as Dave’s arm moved subtly below the frame. His breathing became shallow, uneven pants. "Just… just one finger," Dave whispered, voice strained. "Easy… shit." A low groan rumbled in his chest. His eyes opened, unfocused, staring at the ceiling. His hips gave a tiny, involuntary jerk. "Okay… okay, it’s… it’s in. Fuck me."
He stayed like that for a moment, breathing hard, adjusting. Then, cautiously, his arm moved again. A sharper gasp. "Oh god… oh fuck." His head rolled to the side, cheek pressing against his shoulder. "That’s… weird. Feels… full." Another tiny thrust of his hips. "Kinda… good? Fuck."
Slowly, tentatively, Dave began to move his finger. In and out. Shallowly at first. His breath hitched with each tiny withdrawal, each hesitant push back in. "Okay… adding another," he mumbled, his voice thick with effort. His arm shifted. A choked-off cry escaped him, sharp and sudden. "Jesus fucking Christ!" His body tensed, arching slightly off the bed. His free hand scrabbled blindly at the sheets. "Oh god… oh fuck, Karkat…"
Karkat’s own cock throbbed painfully against his jeans at the sound of his name gasped like that. Raw. Needy.
Dave panted, recovering. "Okay… okay… two. Fuck." He resumed moving, deeper strokes now. Wet, slick sounds accompanied each thrust, amplified by the phone's microphone. Dave’s eyes were squeezed shut again, his mouth slightly open. Soft whimpers escaped him with each inward push. "Feels… deeper… fuck…"
Dave’s breath hitched, a ragged gasp tearing from his throat as his fingers worked deeper. "Fuck, fuck, okay… three," he mumbled, the words thick and unsteady. His arm strained, muscles in his bicep flexing as he forced a third finger past the tight, clenching ring of muscle, sweat beading on his forehead and dampening the hair at his temples. A choked sob escaped him, raw and desperate, as he stretched himself open, the obscene, wet squelch echoing in the quiet room captured by the phone’s microphone.
He pulled his slick fingers out slowly, glistening under the dim light, leaving his hole fluttering and exposed for a second before he fumbled off-screen. His trembling hand reappeared clutching the sleek, black vibrator Karkat had bought him, its surface slicked with more lube. "This… this stupid thing," Dave whispered, voice cracking, his red eyes wide with a mix of terror and need. He positioned the bulbous tip against his stretched entrance, biting his lower lip hard enough to blanch the skin. "C'mon, you little shit… just… fuck!"
With a harsh grunt, he pushed. The thick, silicone head resisted for a second, making him whine high in his throat, before it finally popped past the tight rim. "FUCK! CHRIST!" Dave arched off the bed, his back a taut bowstring, the worn grey t-shirt riding up to expose his hip bones and the base of his leaking, caged cock. His hole visibly spasmed around the dark intrusion, stretched obscenely wide. "Oh god… oh god, it’s in… feels… massive… Karkat…"
He lay panting, shuddering, adjusting to the sheer, impossible fullness. Then, his thumb found the vibrator's base, hovering over the controls. "Please… please work," he breathed, more plea than statement. He thumbed the lowest setting. A low, insistent buzz filled the audio, vibrating through his entire body captured by the microphone.
Dave gasped, a sharp, startled sound. "Oh! Fuck… oh shit…" The vibrator hummed inside him, sending jolts straight up his spine. His thighs, barely visible at the bottom of the frame, trembled violently. His caged cock, trapped beneath the waistband of his briefs, twitched, a fresh bead of pre-come soaking the fabric. "More… need…" he slurred, thumb clumsily finding the next setting.
The buzz intensified, deepening into a powerful thrum. Dave cried out, a broken, wordless sound. His hips jerked involuntarily off the mattress, impaling himself harder on the vibrating length. "YES! Fuck! Like that!" His head thrashed on the pillow. The camera captured the frantic clench and release of his hole around the black silicone, the way his abdomen muscles clenched rhythmically. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead, his cheeks flushed crimson.
"Harder… harder… come on!" he begged the empty room, the machine, himself. He jammed his thumb onto the highest setting. The vibrator roared to life inside him, a deep, penetrating buzz that visibly shook his entire pelvis. "AAAAAH! FUCK! KARKAT!" Dave screamed, back arching impossibly high, his body seizing. His legs shook uncontrollably, feet scrambling for purchase on the sheets. "Oh god oh god I'm gonna… I'm gonna… please…"
His hole fluttered wildly around the pulsating toy, greedy and desperate. Clear fluid streamed steadily from the tip of his trapped cock, soaking a dark patch into his briefs. His mouth hung open in a silent scream, eyes squeezed shut, tears leaking from the corners. He was trembling violently, riding the brutal edge, the vibrator a relentless, buzzing intrusion. "Can't… won't… let me…" he sobbed, gasping for air, his words dissolving into choked, high-pitched whines. His body was wracked with tremors, shuddering through the intense stimulation, but the peak remained agonizingly out of reach, the cage ensuring only torment, not release. He was just a quivering, leaking mess, reduced to animalistic whimpers as the vibrator relentlessly, mercilessly buzzed inside his clenching hole.
The relentless buzz burrowed deep into Dave’s core, a jackhammer vibrating his spine, his guts, his trapped cock. Sweat slicked his skin, plastering the thin grey tee to his chest. He was a writhing, gasping thing on the rumpled sheets, legs splayed wide, hips pistoning weakly against the brutal intrusion. "Nnngh… fuck… too much…" The words were mangled, barely audible over the toy's mechanical drone and his own ragged breathing. Pre-come soaked the front of his briefs, a cold, sticky patch against his fevered skin. He couldn’t stop the spasms tearing through him, wave after wave of agony-edged pleasure locking his muscles rigid then leaving him shuddering.
His trembling hand, slick with lube and sweat, rose from his side. Vacant, tear-streaked eyes, unfocused and desperate, stared dully at his glistening fingers. A low whine escaped his parted lips – "Hhhhnnnn…" – as he brought them closer. Without breaking that vacant stare, without conscious thought, he sucked two fingers into his mouth. He moaned around them, a thick, muffled sound, tasting the sharp tang of artificial lubricant mixed with his own salt. The vibration inside him seemed to intensify as he sucked, hollowing his cheeks, his tongue working desperately between the digits. "Mmph… please…"
The vibration inside him seemed to intensify as he sucked, hollowing his cheeks, his tongue working desperately between the slick digits. "Mmph… please…" he groaned around his own fingers, the sound thick with frustration and a raw, animal need that scraped against his throat. His eyes, wide and glazed, stared sightlessly past the camera lens, lost in the sensation of fullness below and the frantic suction his mouth craved, tears smearing his flushed cheeks. His hips stuttered in tiny, involuntary jerks against the vibrator's relentless thrumming, his caged cock straining painfully against its confines, leaking a steady stream that darkened the fabric stretched taut over it.
Karkat’s knuckles were white where he gripped his phone, his own breath shallow and fast, watching Dave become this beautiful, trembling wreck. Every choked whimper, every desperate suck on his fingers, every visible tremor in those lean thighs sent heat coiling tight in Karkat’s gut. The sight of Dave’s mouth working so needily, combined with the obscene buzz emanating from the speakers and the clear evidence of his leaking frustration, was almost more than Karkat could bear. He felt his own cock harden to an almost painful degree within his jeans, pressing insistently against the denim, a visceral echo of Dave’s trapped agony.
"Fuck…it's so…" Dave mumbled, pulling his fingers from his mouth with a wet pop, a thin string of saliva connecting his bottom lip to the glistening tips. He stared at them, breathing raggedly, then let his head fall back against the pillow with a thud, exposing his throat. His free hand scrabbled blindly at the vibrator’s base, fingers clumsy. "Gotta… gotta make it… harder… need… need…" His voice cracked on the last word, a broken plea.
Dave’s trembling fingers slipped on the vibrator’s slick base, failing to push it deeper. A ragged sob tore from his throat, frustration boiling over. "Fuck! Won't... won't..." His voice dissolved into incoherent whines, his body shaking violently under the relentless buzz trapped inside him.
He whimpered, a high-pitched, desperate sound, and shoved his slick fingers back into his mouth, sucking fiercely. His eyes squeezed shut, blocking out the world, focusing only on the dual sensations: the deep, penetrating thrum deep in his gut and the frantic suction of his own fingers. Saliva pooled, dripping down his wrist. "Mmmph...nnngh..." The muffled moans were thick with need and helplessness, punctuated by the wet sounds of his mouth working.
The muffled moans were thick with need and helplessness, punctuated by the wet sounds of his mouth working. Minutes blurred together, a sweaty eternity spent writhing on the tangled sheets. His body was a trembling wire strung taut by the relentless buzz deep inside him, his caged cock weeping a continuous stream onto his briefs, the dark patch spreading coldly over his heated skin. He sucked his fingers like a starving thing, desperate for any sensation to match the agony-pleasure tearing through his core, the vibrator's thrum a constant, maddening drone vibrating his teeth.
Finally, raw exhaustion claimed him. His arm fell limp beside his head, slick fingers slipping free of his mouth with a final wet smear across his cheek. He collapsed onto his side, facing the camera, breathing in shallow, ragged gasps. Sweat plastered blonde hair to his temples, tears mingling with the moisture on his flushed face. His muscles felt liquid, spent.
With a trembling hand slick with lube and saliva, Dave clumsily groped behind him. He found the base of the vibrator slick against his sweat-damp skin. A low whine escaped his throat, pure protest, as he gripped it. His body clenched instinctively, resisting the loss of that deep, vibrating fullness. "Nnngh... fuck..." He squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as he slowly, reluctantly, began to pull.
The thick silicone slid free with a slick, obscene pop. His hole clenched violently around sudden, shocking emptiness, a wet, puckered ring spasming in the dim light captured perfectly by the camera's lens. The abrupt silence after the relentless buzzing was almost as loud as the noise had been. "Ah! Fuck!" Dave gasped, his hips jerking reflexively backwards as if chasing the vanished sensation. He lay there trembling, panting, his exposed hole still visibly twitching, clenching down on nothing.
He stared dully at the camera for a moment, vulnerable red eyes wide and unfocused. Then, a broken, high-pitched whine tore from his throat. "Nnngh... empty..." He sounded lost, bereft, his voice thick with unshed tears and frustration. His fingers tentatively brushed the sensitive, stretched rim. "Feels weird..."
Karkat watched, his own knuckles white around his phone. Dave’s raw, broken whine echoed in his skull – empty. The sight of that flushed, trembling hole clenching around air, sent a savage jolt of heat straight to Karkat's cock. Precome dampened the front of his jeans. He wanted to taste that needy whimper, feel those spasms against his own skin, be the thing that filled that desperate void.
He played the final seconds again. The pop. The frantic clench. That wounded, wanting sound. Possessiveness, sharp and hot, flooded him. Dave had touched himself on command, filmed it, and now lay there shattered and aching. Aching for what only Karkat could give him. A low growl rumbled in Karkat’s chest. Fingers flew over his phone’s keyboard, the text stark and demanding against the glow of the screen: ‘I'll be right there."