Even over eighteen freshmen are still kids, even those with strong jawlines or artist's hands, but if they know the right people -- or the wrong people, who are the same people that Karkat happens to know -- it is not entirely improbable that he would end up buzzed in a dim corner being straddled by a kid (with wide manly shoulders and as much stubble as Karkat ever grows and twice-as-toned abs) that he TAs for, while another kid slumps artfully at his side to box him in, blowing periodically on his hanging hair to chase that errant lock back with its gelled smooth brethren in a way that only shows off his nice cocksucking mouth.
The kid straddling him is chewing on his, half awkward and half trying to be sexy, and welp, his mouth would also look right at home on Karkat's dick somehow.
"What the fuck do you guys think you're doing," he rasps through the music, hands by some miracle still clenched on his drink and the armrest respectively.
"It's okay! We're just seducing you for better grades!" the black-haired one yells cheerfully, a bit louder than he needed to in order to be heard. He then wriggles on Karkat's lap in a way that is probably supposed to be a) a lap dance and b) enticing. In an alternate universe.
And the blond one snorts and props his elbow on Karkat's shoulder and says, "That's a straight-up filthy lie, we're seducing you 'cause John here caught the Collegeitis Experimentus and is now ravenous for a taste of your dong. And what kind of best friend would I be letting him fight that python alone?"
Karkat closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose and counts to ten, backwards, and then he tosses the rest of his drink down his throat for strength.
"No, you're the liar!" apparently-John says, but still cheerfully. "One hundred percent prurient bribery, I promise."
"Oh please." Blondie turns to Karkat. "You should have seen the notes he took the other day. You know how I know you wore brand new jeans to class? Half his sentences ended in all hail Levi's and the rest in omg bulge. There was a lone glory be to the fly gods--"
"No there wasn't, my notes were perfectly clean and grandma-rated," John says, only when Karkat finds the strength to look at him the boy looks flustered, grinning through a sudden awkward flush that isn't entirely alcohol-based, not with that wince in there.
"Okay, rule one," Karkat's mouth says, straight up from his second head, "You're supposed to be something vaguely resembling a larval adult, you only get the D if you can tell me you want it."
... Jesusfuck. He wishes he could take it back the second he hears his own voice -- for the first two seconds, and then John quivers on his lap and pours himself against his chest and Blondie nudges up against his side like a smug cat and they grin and high-five.
Over getting to his dick.
Welp. Karkat is only human, and flattery this outrageous will apparently unlock a lot of pants-related things.
At least Blondie isn't also in his class.
-- bonus: one hour later --
"If you use your teeth on my dick one more time I will kick you out through the window. And then throw myself after you, head first and holding onto my mangled junk.
"Haha no you wont," the pretty blond one (who Karkat has recently learned was named Dave) says from the side, where hes jerking himself off slowly and offering unasked for pointers.
Between his thighs the hot twink one winks a blue, blue eye at him and goes for his third, stubborn attempt at a deepthroat.
"No I wont," Karkat says, defeated, and goes back to enjoying the clusterfuck.