The Perfect View

by Yokaiin

Summary:

Your name is Dave Strider and you’ve been watching Karkat Vantas for more human years than you’d like to count.

     Your name is Dave Strider and you’ve been watching Karkat Vantas for more human years than you’d like to count. It started in elementary school. You were in separate classes but the wall separating your rooms was versatile, able to be folded back and allow your teachers to combine your classes for group activities and lessons. You’d move your desks into clusters and rotate station to station, each with little lessons or games that corresponded with the class’s current unit.

     It had something to do with water being spilled, you think, whatever set Karkat off back then. In all your years of learning the complexities of what it meant to carry your family name, keep it cool, Karkat Vantas was a fucking anomaly. Just a little bit of water on some book he’d gotten from the school library during your mandatory class trips and the kid was flipping his grade schooler shit every which way. There was no fan needed to fuel this guy's onslaught of a temper. Immediately you decided you did not like this kid. That, however, did not mean he wasn’t prime time entertainment.

     It wasn’t until seventh grade that you spoke to him. Of course you had mutual friends. John and Terezi talked about him a lot, actually. The school's shouty sour puss Karkat Vantas miraculously had no trouble maintaining these close friendships. Despite the perpetual state of absolute pissy-ness he seemed to keep up, brows constantly knit together and scrunching his features, people couldn’t seem to get enough of him. Maybe you weren’t in the best position to judge, you hadn’t actually talked to the kid yet but you had been watching him for at least two years and everyday he came in with that same expression on his face and slouch to his shoulders. You didn’t have to talk to Karkat Vantas to know how he felt. If Karkat was upset the whole classroom would know and then some. The dude was an open book if you could plug books into amplifiers. SImply put, the dude wasn’t cool.

     When Karkat joined your lunch table, however, two years of your eyes trailing him behind your shades was not enough to prepare you for this up close and personal experience with the troll. It started with an introduction. John and all his buck toothed nerdboy glory waved an over zealous arm at the disinterested troll and told you that this was his good buddy Karkat and he’d be sitting with you guys from now on since his classes got switched around. You nodded along and gave the little dude a salute without looking up from your sickest new addition to Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff in the form of a napkin doodle. Art. Also, there was absolutely no reason for anyone to know that you knew well and fine who Karkat Vantas was.

     You never initiated conversations with him. No reason to, right? Why bother with some arrogant windbag who felt the need to flaunt his shit in everyone's faces at all times. It was embarrassing to watch. Just listening made your stomach knot. The dude was fucked up six ways till next Sunday and then some, it just didn’t make sense.

    So, yeah, when you and John were discussing one of Game Bros newest releases and Karkat butted in to tell you your opinion was ‘insipid wriggler barf’ and proceeded to try and own you on the ways in which you apparently didn’t know your shit on this new game, you got a little heated. You’ve been watching Karkat Vantas for two years now and the new sight of his face up close and personal with yours while he chewed you out was invigorating.

    “Thrash-bros is just a cheap re-hashing of Tony Hawk Pro Skater graphics but this time there’s a plot? How much plot can you actually add to a panless stoner sport game? You can’t. It’s just a complete cash grab for wrigglers like you who’ve never played a real game before, dipshit.” His hands moved so much when he spoke. Every emotion and inflection was mirrored through his entire body. You’d never seen anyone so horrendously expressive.

    John opened his mouth to respond but you were already leaning across the table, hands braced atop a forgotten Hella Jeff, “Just because it’s being released by the same company doesn’t mean shit, dude. Sorry this isn’t some fantasy insert dating sim or whatever the hell you’d consider a ‘real game’, but if they wanted to cash grab they could just make another Tony Game. Why bother slapping a new name on it when our boy Tony could make all the green on his name alone, V2 style? That shit just doesn’t make sense. Sorry the grind isn’t for you dude but some of us gotta hash it out like real bros while you gotta get Brad-kun’s heart meter up with your special eyelash batting prowess.”

    Karkat looked caught between strangling you or himself as he rose to meet you. You would have felt bad for the plastic spork close to snapping under his fist if you could take your eyes off his expression. “I’m sorry- my what?”

   “Y’know, the little thing about you that makes the Brad-kun’s and Kyle-san's gawk at you in the hall with their chiseled jaws on the floor drooling puddles because they’ve never seen an MC with peepers like that. The kind that makes a 2D anime inspired boy weak in the knees because that's all that poor simp’s programming amounts to.”

   Karkat’s wide angry stare narrows- for a moment you thought you’d stunned him into silence as he seemed to mull over your words. “Are… are you flirting with me?”

   The nervous energy you’d been using as fuel for the argument plummeted from your chest straight into your gut. Karkat and all his intensity was suddenly too close for comfort.

   Opening your mouth you stumbled to form a response but all you could manage was an awful cross of ‘gross’ and ‘what are you talking abouts’ that didn’t make much sense. You tried to step away from the table- away from him, but the hand that wasn’t wrinkling Hella Jeff’s serene face had been braced on your plastic lunch tray, which slipped halfway across the table and sent you sprawling backwards straight onto your ass when you tried to push yourself up.

   The bell rang, ending lunch period before things could get any worse. You remember the scuffing of Karkat’s sneakers as he hightailed it out of there and John lending you a hand up as you fixed your shades.

   “You alright, Dave?” John’s mouth was quirked to the side in his goofy ‘what the hell is going on’ kind of way specific to only him.

“Yeah- yeah, I just gotta let Dirk know about whatever the hell kind of metal these lunch table legs are made out of. Maybe the dude could keep a sword intact with that shit. Nearly split my skull in two.” You were vaguely aware of your peers eyeing the two of you and mumbling under their breath as they filed out of the cafeteria. No wonder the troll booked it.

   “No, that’s not what I-“ John paused, probably noting the same thing before eyeing you skeptically. “You’ve never played a Tony Hawk game.”

 

   An entire school year later and you learned a new face of Karkat’s. Well, calling it one is a little irresponsible. This one took a lot of expressions and mushed them together on his freckled face into something that could only be called pining.

   Now, it is important to note you in no way enjoyed this kid okay? The argument in Seventh grade had been enough to convince you to keep as much distance as possible from the time bomb of a troll at all times. The guy was embarrassing. He was just also... interesting.

   Someone who was open like he was. Didn’t put a single thing on the back burner. Not even the pathetic way you watched his eyes travel after your bro ‘Rezi. Sure you knew they were close friends and she always lit up when he came up, but this? Hoo buddy, you had not caught on to this train.

   For a minute you thought you might pity the dude on his little crush. The way he danced around her. Maybe you caught her matching his pathetically hesitant romance steps? But you could never be sure when it came to trolls. Everything they did over there in foursquare patty-cake land confused the shit out you. Over time, however, watching his expressions change from hopeful, to sad, to frustrated, lively, back to the heartbroken glint in his eye whenever she cackled at a joke he didn’t make- it started to infuriate you and you didn’t know why.

   So, you pushed. Not him, no. Never him. Not unless he came at you first. You pushed with Terezi. Made her laugh louder, smile more, had her sit next to you at the table, brushed your hands together. He hated it. Karkat Vantas absolutely loathed everything you were and everything you did, but for once, he didn’t say a damn thing. Not while she was around.

   Once Terezi stayed home sick, and oh did the floodgates open. It started with the usual bickering, just little biting remarks tossed around the lunch table with John playing the well meaning mediator, but Karkat had been patching too many holes in the dam, fixing too many cracks with horribly concealed glares that one mention of your absent pal and all hell broke loose.

   Dave Strider was suddenly drowning in a slurry of lovelorn Vantas fury. John tried to get you both to calm down before teachers got involved but one minute you were seated across the table, piquing the interest of fellow students with steadily raising voices and the next you were grappling on the ground, teeth, claws, and blunt human fists all a blur before you were separated.

   Terezi never found out about the origin of the little incident, and while you both got detention, you were the only one who came out of it with a girlfriend. It was stupid and petty and you and Terezi didn’t last long, but you don’t think you’ll ever forget the expressions he didn’t even know he showed you that year.

   In freshman year your new angle was from behind the paint counter in the backstage portion of your school’s auditorium.

   You would have joined lights and sound, maybe hung out in the cloud above the stage a bit, but Roxy and Dirk had already taken up ownership of that section and you had no intention of riding family coat tails in after school clubs to get on the director's good side. That and the drama in their clique got a little messy that year.

   So you joined paint because, contrary to popular belief, (just how you liked it) you weren’t only capable of shitty (totally fucking beautiful) webcomics when it came to art. Not that the walls they had you painting required a fine skill set.

   Adjacent to your little counter made cubby of paint splattered cabinets and industrial sinks, was the costume loft. A set of precarious metal stairs lead up to a loft with open grill flooring that let you peek into the cluttered work space. From your understanding all four walls were filled to the brim with two rows of costumes, one row directly on top of the other and suffocating the room in fabric. Only students within the meager costume department were permitted entry. Hell, Kanaya and Porrim never even stayed inside the loft long, all their sewing and fitting done in the corner beneath the loft by stage left. Which was all well and fine for a while. You and Kanaya even dropped some sick gossip on occasion while her older sister snickered at your antics. Just somewhere along the line you had let yourself forget who Kanaya was close to.

   Apparently being on the director’s and Head of Costume’s good side made Karkat the perfect lackey for the Maryam’s to use whenever he was free after school. Which was… a lot. Mostly he was in charge of running up and down the narrow staircase to grab different costumes from above, directions were easy to give when the floor didn’t exist. You heard how nauseas it made him on many occasions to look down at Kanaya when he had to climb ladders to reach the second, higher row of costumes. He never stopped though.

   Even when Kanaya began to use him as a mannequin, he complained but he still came every day he was asked and stripped down to boxers and a t-shirt to be fitted into whatever strange shit they’d pulled from the loft that day. You didn’t know why the t-shirts always conveniently placed under his usual sweaters piqued your interest, but they did. Had he always done that? Or was it something he’d adjusted for these situations? Some of the shirts even hugged his frame. That was a sight you never thought you’d see. Karkat Vantas? In form fitting clothing? It was otherworldly, like the time John had a Nic Cage tantrum, you just couldn’t look away.

   Once he’d even hung around backstage in one of the shirts after he fulfilled his Maryam usefulness for the evening. It was tech week, the hell week of staying in the auditorium after school until nine p.m. to make sure everything was finished before the show that weekend.

   You were just glad the paint corner was on the other side of the stage from the wide open space the rest of the tech crew used to build the sets. As nice as the larger space sounded, you’d rather stick to your corner away from the tangible stress in the air. Sure, it left you with a lot of cleaning duty but high schoolers wielding power tools while a breath away from a meltdown wasn’t your jam.

   Anyway, back to Karkat.

   Stage left held only the costume loft, the paint corner, and a wide set of double doors that led to the back halls of the school. So whenever Kan and Porrim left to grab this or that, maybe chat up the green room kids, it was just you and Karkat. You don’t know why he stayed all night during tech week. It wasn’t required of him. He wasn’t an official theater club member so really he could go home at any time, but he stayed.

   That night the Maryam girl’s had been helping in the greenroom and Karkat was perched on the metal stairs, the behemoth of an English book the school provided seated in his lap while he scrawled down homework of what you assumed was the Shakespearean unit you’d been on lately. Then again, you were pretty sure he was in some kind of advanced class.

   The offending shirt was stretched across his lean frame like it was sewn onto his body. Did he know he’d left it on? He’d slung his sweater over the railing next to him so you had thought he was aware but he’d been like this for so long you began to question the possibilities of it truly being Karkat. You would know after all.

   Now, watching Karkat was of course not the only item on your to-do list that night. It was tech week and you still had responsibilities that did not pertain to curious probing glances at the strange troll boy you’d pseudo-known since grade school. Said responsibilities were the ‘smaller’ set pieces too big to be considered props and in need of fresh paint. All the forest green paint you were covered in made you long for the movie cliche of someone’s kid playing the tree.

   Somewhere into the eighth tree you remember hearing ruffling pages and shuffling feet before you were face to face with an… uncomfortable? Looking troll. You didn’t know how to gauge this new expression on Karkat’s face but you were definitely cataloguing it for further investigation. Maybe it was because you were secretly stressing your workload while the rest of the paint crew had been completely preoccupied painting the major set pieces in the tech lair which left you on your own, but when Karkat asked if you needed any help, eyes averted, you handed the dude a cup of red paint for the toad stools.

   You think that was the first time you’d been around him for a prolonged period of time where neither of you tried to bite the other’s head off. You think he felt useless, watching everyone frantically try to shove impossible workloads on themselves to make opening night a success while he sat around, lackey duties completed. There was also the possibility he was just in a rare good mood that night. When you’d started rapping under your breath to the distant music onstage and adlibbing the musical’s words with some half assed metaphor style complaint about all these fucking trees he hadn’t even told you to shut up. No, you got a raised brow and poorly masked amusement. Now that expression, was something new.

   In sophomore year you think some kind of peace had been managed between you two. You weren’t buddies by any means and your view of him was still at a distance, the back of his head in most classes, but when you found yourselves sharing a table and dark room time in photography the air between you two had shifted. It was probably something simple like the fact you weren’t a couple of seventh graders anymore with your heads shoved so far up your asses you couldn’t see the signs you were throwing your mutual tantrums a little too far. Probably.

   There was still bickering, however. You shared a work space, both in and out of the darkroom and after realizing the exact twitch of his lips that signaled you were starting to push his buttons you couldn’t help but tip the troll over the edge into a clumsy pirouette off the anger deep end. What led up to the irritable twitch, however, was something you didn’t want to think much about. You told yourself if was for the fucking science of it all. You’d had your eyes on this walking anomaly since the fifth grade and the face he’d made that night backstage had only happened that once.

   Angry Karkat was well known, everyone knew it and caused it. Sad Karkat was lesser but still not an uncommon sight if someone had been watching as long as you had. But positive Karkat? Sure, he smiled from time to time with Kanaya, you think John talked about him laughing at one of their movie nights like it was normal, but positive Karkat expressions were still a wildly uncharted territory when it came to Strider knowledge. Witnessing something like that second-hand was meaningless. You could only gain a true understanding of what it was you were studying by seeing it with your own two eyes right? You had to figure out how to get Karkat to make that face again. On your own.

   So while most of your covert attempts at getting a positive expression from the troll seemed to crash and burn, the light hearted bickering it dissolved into resulted in learning things about Karkat you couldn’t get from simply eyeing him from down the hall. That was probably bound to happen considering how open he was but you liked to entertain the thought you had achieved some sort of breakthrough.

   For instance, anyone could tell his taste in literature was questionable, fabio style romance novels he should probably be ashamed of were always perched on top of his school books. However when he spoke about it you learned he didn’t give two shits what anyone thought of his taste and it extended to crappy romcoms as well.

   Karkat had also told you about his past days of horrendous coding skills, apparently that one had taken him quite a while to give up. He thought of himself as something like an expert virus creator, apparently Sollux still calls him up to violently fuck up a code every now and then and gets some kind of kick out of sending it off to someone else. He also tried to teach himself kickboxing for a few years but ultimately ended up looking like a floundering idiot alone in his bedroom and quit that too. Karkat says he gave up the belligerent asshole ideas about badassery back then too anyways. You told him his voice made up plenty for what he lacked in physical intimidation. He punched your arm. It didn’t hurt.

   Throughout all of this you think the biggest breakthrough was not in the things he told you. No, getting to watch and experience him first hand for so long in your study for What Made Karkat Vantas’ Face Do What you realized just because he isn’t smiling doesn’t mean he’s not enjoying himself. There’s a certain lilt to his voice when he lectures you on the plot of his newest book in the seclusion of the darkroom and a light in his eyes when your banters are lingering on playfully argumentative and severely lacking in any heat. By the end of the semester you had just about memorized all the Vantas voice ques. You weren’t a master by any means, and you had no Egbert level of broship to back it up but this new side of Karkat was definitely a view you enjoyed.

   When the second semester of sophomore year rolled around you didn’t have photography with Karkat anymore. It was a one semester class and he wasn’t sticking around for anymore art classes because he’d only been there for the credit in the first place. You told yourself you were disappointed because you were unable to learn more in such a close proximity.

   You still saw him around of course. Every other day Karkat sat at your lunch table and you both shared Bio 2 with Jade but it wasn’t the same. Before when it had been only the two of you, whether that be in the darkroom or roaming the halls for photos during class time, it was almost like having a different Karkat. Of course he was the same and the shift was hardly noticeable but whenever it had been just the two of you and you got him on a roll he seemed more… open.

   The troll made such a wide array of expressions when you got him to actually talk about himself. Not just banter with you about whatever word vomit fumbled out of your mouth, but shit that was actually important to him. With everyone else around you weren’t so lucky.

   At lunch there was an overcrowded table full of people to play the buffer between you two. Even on days you got to sit next to him Sollux stole most of his attention if the mustard blood was in a good mood. If Sollux wasn’t up for talking it was Kanaya, sharing a bit of gossip or John sparking up a movie debate.

   On the off chance you fit more than a few sentences in, your bucktoothed bro in blue was always quick to swoop in and really get shit started. Sometimes you thought John may enjoy working Karkat up as much as you did. You didn’t want to think too much on how that made you feel.

   With lunch a no-go on Karkat time you thought maybe Biology would work out for you. That thought lasted for the first couple of days.

   Jade Harley had been a good friend of yours since middle school. Despite that big brain of hers you knew she had hidden behind hideously sized spectacles she always carried around a certain aura that made it seem as though she’d sprung straight from the rainforest. Wild hair cascaded down her back in a way that you were sure if you hung a lab coat around her narrow shoulders she’d be quite the adorable mad scientist, but it had nothing on the energetic personality raging inside the girl.

   Collecting dead things and keeping them well loved and preserved on a special shelf in the closet may have been your thing but the second dissection lab partners came up Harley’s head swiveled to you with a buck toothed grin lighting up her face. How could you deny an expression like that? Karkat on the other hand, looked seconds from blowing chunks. So, yeah, your plans to rekindle a partnership with K-Kat Vantas crashed and burned there too.

   It was the fifth class lab when you started questioning yourself. For years you’d come to accept that your attention was just naturally drawn to Karkat. The dude was the eighth wonder of the universe. Someone so upfront and honest, every raw emotion he felt written on his features like a movie for the world to see was bound to generate curious glances. Why should you look away? There was nothing wrong with watching. Watching didn’t mean involving yourself with such a heinous display of emotion except- you’d crossed the line.

   Somewhere along the line just watching this public display of what it meant to lack any notion of chill, you’d started seeking him out not with your eyes but for conversation. For company. You went from trying to understand what made him tick to wanting it to be you. You worked out plans in your head to go out of your way so he’d talk to you, tell you more about himself, show you that smile he kept so well hidden.

   Here you were, brushing arms with arguably the smartest, prettiest girl you’d ever met in your life, bonding over the internal organs of a worm that reeked of harsh preservation chemicals and all you could do was think about how funny Karkat’s face had been when his lab partner plucked up the dead creature with his bare hands. You didn’t know what that meant. Jade had looked at you quizzically when the troll’s expression made you snort. You didn’t know how to explain yourself cause you didn’t know why you’d done it. You didn’t know what any of this meant and it scared you.

   After that you stopped seeking Karkat out. A month passed and the snow started to melt. Jade asked you out. You’d said yes. With Jade on your arm you thought sneaking a few glances at the troll would be alright. The expression that greeted you was painfully familiar and startlingly fresh.

   Another month passed and John invited you all out for his birthday party. Laser tag he’d told you. Apparently they’d just built a two story arena behind the arcade downtown. You were understandably stoked. Until a roughly five foot bundle of unbridled rage stepped out from behind John at the party. How did it always slip your mind that John and Karkat were so close? You’ll never know.

   The minute the arena's doors opened for the second team to enter you’d lost Jade to the labyrinth of black lights. She’d always been a good shot and now you could hear the other team members' vest signaling their temporary deaths with a girlish giggle in their wake. She was a force to be reckoned with. You on the other hand, excelled more at hand to hand combat and while you were pretty sick at any video game presented to you, your aim was questionable at best so you went the stealthy route. It gave you more shots.

   You were perched on a beam with a strict ‘no climbing’ sign on the second story, mumbling a rap under your breath about being the best sharp shooter in town when you saw him. The blacklight gave his fangs a blueish glint. He looked like he’d been chewing on radioactive blueberries, but the grin stretching across his face in the dark knocked the breath straight from your lungs. You don’t know how he spotted you on your little perch. The way his grin faltered at the sight of you made something curl in your gut and you couldn’t even will your arm to move and pull the trigger as he gathered his bearings, eyes gleaming as he raised his gun and landed a direct shot on your vest. The electronic fizzle out of your life force was lost on your ears.

   You had expected him to walk away from you, exasperated at your incompetence. Maybe holler up some expletives while you blinked down at him dumbly. Instead you got a cock of his hip and an arch of his brow. Like he was saying ‘Aren’t you going to get me back?’ For that smile? You nearly cleared both floors in a single bound.

   You think that was the first time you made Karkat smile with all his blunt fangs gleaming as you chased each other around like a couple of overzealous losers. It was almost like the expression that had taken over his features the past month hadn’t been there at all, like you hadn’t started avoiding him. Why did you ever do that anyway? This was great. He was great.

   That following summer John started inviting you to his and Karkat’s movie nights and you broke up with Jade. You don’t think she minded much. She was probably expecting it. While she may not have been what you needed romantically Jade was one hell of a friend and sometimes you think she knew what you needed more than you yourself did. The same could not be said for her cousin.

   John was a good bro, the best bro, the Starsky to your Hutch, but the dude was denser than lead. When you told him you and Jade split during one of your movie nights the dude went off the metaphorical handle. You think your bro had some other stuff to be pissed about and you could always jam about that when he wasn’t making you wildly uncomfortable. Karkat sent you sympathetic glances, something else beneath his gaze you were afraid to prod.

   That night John passed out way before you or Karkat. You learned the troll had just as much trouble sleeping as you did and you think you shared some kind of feelings jam with the little dude. It wasn’t outright and nothing was explicit but you like to think you hit all the stops on sleepover late night jam sessions, even with all your tiptoeing around finer details.

   You told him about Jade, it’s where things started actually, and he told you about Terezi. You let him talk and didn’t fess up to knowing. When he brought up his first impression of you it led you to talk about yourself more and you told him a little about your lesser known hobbies. He didn’t seem to like the dead shit but listened to you prattle on about your favorite specimens.

   When you talked about your webcomic there was a knowing look in his eyes but he told you it sounded vapid and like a waste of time, you gave him a link. He knew you liked photography but he didn’t know about the wall in your room nearly smothered in black and white photos that ranged from ironic self portraits to some city shots you were pretty proud of. There was also one of Karkat in there, from a class trip- you didn’t tell him about that one.

   Talk of your room led to talk about your home which led to talk about your family. You didn’t give him the finer details but you did tell him you didn’t stay with your bro anymore. No, since you were thirteen and Dirk was fifteen you’d been kickin it in the Lalonde household. Bigshot scientists had quite the digs with just enough space for a couple more rowdy and damaged kids.

   You like Mom Lalonde. Even if something about her made you ache deep in your chest. You don’t know why you let that part slip to Karkat, but he had tousled his hair sheepishly and admitted visiting the Maryam household as often as he did made him feel the same way. That made you feel a bit better about your slip up.

   The following nights never delved into such an emotional territory again, but John was always out first and Karkat was always willing to stay up with you. Even when the bags under his eyes were particularly prominent he never turned down another movie or a round of muffled whisper yelling at mario kart. Sometimes he would fall asleep with the controller in his hands if you left to go to the bathroom, his character Dry Bones waiting patiently on the screen. That was a view you had unexpectedly come to enjoy.

   The harsh blue light from the t.v. lit up the planes of his face in the dark living room, shadows danced across his freckled cheeks. Like that his thick lashes nearly disguised the bruises under his eyes and his full lips remained parted in small breaths, inky black hair curling in a disarray against his face. The usual harsh knit of his brows was absent and his expression was relaxed, peaceful almost if you didn’t know who the boy was before you.

   Whenever this happened you’d gingerly pry the controller from his hands and pull the blanket off the back of the couch to drape it over the troll. In the mornings Karkat never asked who’d done it. Maybe he thought John’s dad had found him there in the middle of the night, maybe he figured he’d done it in his sleep, maybe he knew you couldn’t handle being asked.

   When Junior year rolled around you were eligible for Prom. John was taking your cousin Roxy or was he taking Terezi? No one was really sure. Rose was taking Kanaya, big shocker there with all the waltzing around one another those two had done. Jade was going with Nepeta apparently. Equius playing watchful chaperone. You didn’t think too hard about whatever the hell was going on there. Karkat though? All the watching you’d done through the years and you couldn’t quite figure out his plans.

   After that summer where you spent countless nights of Karkat by your side things just kind of continued like that when the school year started back up. Even if John didn’t tag along, you found Karkat at your side more and more. Seeking him out was still a habit but you no longer needed to. Karkat would search you out all on his own. You were a little amazed to say the least. Despite all of this, however, you never asked him about his plans for prom. Ask the dude for a bro night filled with greasy burgers and shitty movies? Yeah, sure. Ask a simple question about a completely normal teenager thing that everyone you knew was attending? Somehow that posed a problem.

   To give yourself some credit, you did try. One night you’d driven the two of you up to the local Walmart to get some frozen pizzas. Instead found yourselves perusing the toy aisles and having impromptu lightsaber duels. Karkat wasn’t as good as you but you were in it for the theatrics dammit, and when you got a fatal blow on the troll and he rolled his eyes you had to show him how dying was really done. A third shift employee eyed your limp body on the linoleum floor for thirty solid seconds before walking away. Karkat’s face lit up with color while you cackled at his petrified expression. When you told him that was a nice look, the flush in his cheeks, he stomped away and called you an asshole.

   Pizzas finally acquired you waited in one of the only checkout lanes available so late. Karkat was back to standing at your side but his attention was elsewhere. Just a couple rows down and across the main aisle there was a couple giggling over some cheap walmart rings, trying on the faux diamonds and showing them off to one another. It was hard for your human ears but you're pretty sure Karkat picked up the conversation just fine. The only word you got was prom. They were probably a lovesick couple joking about prom accessories and the expression on Karkat’s face as he watched them made you feel like that stupid kid you were back in Junior High. Back when you watched Karkat trip over his clumsy feelings and muck up a relationship with his dream girl before you swooped in and mucked it up more.

   You wonder if that’s what he was thinking about in that moment, with that look of longing in his eyes. Was he thinking about her? Was he thinking about you? Or just his shortcomings in romance? Whatever it was you wanted to wipe that expression from his face. You didn’t like this view the first time and you definitely don’t like it now.

   So you didn’t ask him about prom that night. Too afraid he’d make that face and too afraid of what you’d do to make it go away.

   John said his dad was handling the limo they’d be taking to the dance so you figured you’d find Karkat there. Maybe he’d cleaned up real nice, slipped on a fitted tux instead of his usual baggy sweaters, and tried to tame his hair. You don’t think he would have succeeded but that’s what would be so Karkat about it. A clean cut suit, pressed tie, some hand-me-down dress shoes all polished up to look new, and his hair falling in its usual mess around his face. He’d probably flush as he fussed with it in the car, self consciously combing his fingers through it when no one was looking. No one but you anyway. Not that he would have noticed your gaze.

   Karkat didn’t show, though. Not in the limo and not at the dance. All your friends seemed to shrug when asked and your troll bro didn’t seem up to picking up the phone. Not that you blew him up or anything. That wouldn’t be cool and you- you were cool. You were also not into overstaying the Karkat texting privilege welcome wagon.You may have over thought that one a bit.

   Roughly two hours into the dance and you bailed. Your friends were great and all but they got a little busy with their dates as the night went on and frankly the D.J. was grating on your nerves. So with a salute to John you slipped out into the warm city night and called yourself a cab. You could have gone home. Let Aunt Rolal question you on why you were back so soon, maybe fuss over you a bit before letting you turn in for the night, but when the driver asked for an address you gave him Karkat’s.

   Even if you’d only been to the Vantas household a handful of times when the cab pulled away you had no trouble discerning which window belonged to Karkat. It was a modest two story cookie cutter kind of house, no real distinguishing features to speak of- if you discounted the long black scuff mark near a second story window, permanently scarring the beige vinyl. You had fond memories with that scuff mark.

   Last summer you had managed to convince Karkat to sneak out, join you and John for some teenage grade shenanigans across town. In truth you really just didn’t want to be subjected to Egbert’s late night pranking agenda on your own. Your best bro was cool but man the guy could get absorbed in a pranking war. On the way home when you were all laughing and shoving at one another down the street John uncapped one of the spray paint cans from his limited edition ghostbusters backpack and sprayed the bottom of Karkat’s shoe. Now, John had good aim and didn’t get a lick of paint on the sides of the troll’s shoe but that didn’t do much to quell his rage, the long inky streak of black left next to his bedroom window had him positively screeching despite the early hour you happened to be boosting him back through the window. Needless to say, some lights switched on and you weren’t the most welcome guest at the Vantas household since.

   Anyway- back to prom night. The aging if not cliche oak tree next to his window provided a perfect impromptu ladder to reach the troll’s window, for someone with your skillset that carried on from your childhood… plus the occasional parkour around the city you did under Auntie Rolal’s nose helped.

   Holding fast to the branch above your head you kept one foot firmly planted on the branch below and nudged at his window with the point of your shiny black oxford. By the time a sleepy looking Karkat managed to pry open the window to glower at you you were sure your stomach had plummeted to your feet at the way the branch swayed beneath you.

   “Sup.” You greeted, nodding casually as if precariously hanging from a tree in a pressed suit in the middle of the night was perfectly natural. Karkat, surly and foul mouthed Karkat, stared at you as if you’d grown three heads or if you’d threatened his first born before stepping aside to give you space to haul yourself into his bedroom.

   “What the hell are you thinking?!” He hissed and slammed the window shut, locking out the thick summer air with a thump. Judging from the muffled voices still emitting from his laptop on the bed, sheets rumpled as though he’d only just been there, you assumed prom wasn’t even in the forefront of his mind for tonight. Unless the school started accepting ratty lime green gym shorts with VANTAS scrawled across the bottom hem in sharpie paired with a faded Daft Punk t-shirt as proper prom dress-code.

   You smoothed your suit lapels, eyes trailing the way he rubbed at his bare arms. A self conscious motion you were sure. “Well-” You cleared your throat, shifting from foot to foot. “I was thinking the front door wouldn’t be the best idea at this hour. Pretty sure I’m not the guest of honor at the Vantas estate anymore.”

   “So you climbed through my window in a tux.” He sat back on the bed, waving a hand at you. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on the clean lines of your suit. Hell, how often did someone climb a tree and hop through a window and come out this clean cut? “Shouldn’t you be at the prom right now?”

   “Shouldn’t you?”

   Karkat paused and his brow furrowed like there was a bad taste in his mouth.”I can’t imagine why.”

   You toed at the carpet, eyeing a scuff in your polished shoe you were sure was gonna get you in trouble later. “Biggest romance nerd in town can’t imagine why he wouldn’t be at the prom? Seriously?” You weren’t sure why but there was a knot in your stomach and the air felt tense. Nerves made your lips twitch into a warbling smile and you fought to find the right words- kill the silence- change the rapidly declining atmosphere. “I know parties aren’t your thing especially if it involves even half the dudes we go to school with, but it’s prom. It’s like a romcom geeks wet dream, man, come on.” Karkat didn’t stir. If anything his frown got deeper. “Don’t tell me it was because you didn’t have a date.” You regretted the statement the second it was out of your mouth. On many different levels it was hypocritical and you probably could have sat there all night and mentally pummeled yourself for saying it if the coloring of Karkat’s pointed ears hadn’t snagged your attention. “Dude.”

   “Oh, shut up! I never said that’s why and even if it was- which it isn’t!- I wouldn’t expect you of all people to understand so don’t make that face at me, Dave Strider. I don’t need this right now.” On the bright side, he was looking at you now. On the not-so-bright-side there was an expression behind his glare that made guilt flare in your gut. “Just because I enjoy romcoms and the occasional novel doesn’t mean I’m salivating at the chance to sink my meaty undeserving claws into any possibly romantic scenario.”

   “Hey, dude, I didn’t have a date either.” The indignant rage that released itself in the form of a growl from Karkat’s throat miraculously did not wake the house. “Okay! Okay! I’m sorry!” You whispered, holding out your hands in what you hoped was a placating gesture. “I just thought maybe I was gonna get to crash the prom with one of my best bros tonight but instead he left me hanging in between all the couples macking on each other just so he could watch the same thing in his lap top screen at home.”

   Karkat opened his mouth to speak but withdrew before starting again as though he’d changed his mind. “I figured you had a date.” His shoulders rose and fell. There was something he wasn’t saying but you figured your luck with him was already wearing thin tonight.

   Then the gears started turning. The faraway look in his eyes and the sap fest on his husktop screen, the way he paraded like you were the last person he wanted to see tonight and yet the relief in his eyes when you came clambering in. (Okay that was also partly because you were no longer in danger of falling to your death in your best friend’s backyard but you digress.) “You didn’t… I mean… Think that we were..” You motioned helplessly, trying to find the right words as a myriad of expressions shadowed across the troll’s freckled face. He didn’t like where the conversation was headed but the minute your mouth started god help anyone who wanted to stop it.

   Karkat opened his mouth to interject, a weak no barely escaping him but your traitorous mouth barrelled on. “Terezi. She uh- went with John. Not me. I didn’t know you didn’t know that I didn’t want you to think-” Think what? That you had gone to prom with Karkat’s dream girl or that you had gone to prom with anyone else at all?

   “Terezi?” Karkat parroted, stunned into a momentary silence. Had you actually done it? Had your idiocy finally managed to silence The Karkat Vantas? “No. Dave.” He heaved a sigh, running his hands over his face and through his hair. You remember watching the way the raven waves swayed and curled in a disheveled frame around his face, thinking no one had the right to look the way he did at midnight, all rumpled from a night lazing around in gym shorts he’d probably had lying around since freshman year. “This wasn’t about Terezi. Just forget it, okay?” The way he said it, with such finality, you really didn’t want to press the issue anymore. You believed him.

   However, even you could see this was a mood in the need of saving. Who better than The Dave of Guy to swoop in, make an absolute mess of not-prom-night, and clean it up with the grace of a dog wearing booties on a freshly polished wood floor just to put a smile on Karkat’s face? No one, that’s who. You needed a change of scenery.

   “Wanna go to the roof?”

   Karkat blinked, incredulously. “What?”

   You jabbed your thumb towards the ceiling. “Roof. Yes forward slash no?”

   A pair of ruby eyes, still freckled with faint shards of adolescent’s anonymous silver sized you up, debating your current bullshit levels. But they wouldn’t find any. Dave Strider never fucked around about roofs. “You’re serious? You know that’s dangerous right? Not to mention idiotic. There’s not exactly a safety net in my backyard.”

   “Good thing we won’t be using the backyard then.” You scooped up a meticulously folded blanket from the foot of Karkat’s bed and swung it over your shoulder. “Come on.” Your voice dipped into a whisper as you opened the bedroom door and crept into the hall, leaving no more room for questions. Begrudgingly, Karkat followed.

   At the end of the upstairs hallway there was a window that peered out into the front yard and empty street and just below it, the small roofing above the front porch. You led Karkat out onto the shingles and shut the window behind you, he made sure it remained unlocked exactly six times beforehand. From there you cautiously slid your way towards the garage where a lower portion of the roof branched off from this one and inclined up toward the main roof. Somewhere along the way, when you were slowly crawling over the pitch you ended up with Karkat’s hand in yours. You told yourself it was to support him, you didn’t want him to fall.

   From the top of the garage you boosted yourselves onto a smaller portion of the main roof where you spread out the blanket and invited Karkat to sit. This earned you an eyeroll but a minute smile as well as he sat himself next to you.

   “See?” You said as you slipped off your suit jacket and laid it on the blanket. “Perfectly safe.”

   “Don’t go and jinx it, shit for brains. We still have to get back down from here you know.” Karkat leveled you with a glare but it lacked any real heat. “What’s the point in risking the unbroken state of our necks to come out here anyway?”

   See, the thing about Karkat’s house being located just outside of town and away from the harsh light pollution of the city was the night sky was actually something worth noticing. Outside your old apartment the views were limited to glaring neon signs and headlights. When you moved in with your Aunt it improved only slightly. You weren’t in the city anymore but if you loitered outside in a pristine neighborhood like her’s it was only a matter of time before the cops were called about a suspicious teenager lurking outside the house in the middle of the night. Karkat’s place however, was perfect. Not to mention he also happened to know a few of the constellations.

   All of that in mind, you laid back on the blanket and said, “S’cool. Stars and stuff.”

   Karkat snorted and pulled his knees to his chest, chin rested on top. While he watched the stars you, of course, found yourself watching him. He pointed out a few of the constellations but you spent more time studying the purse of his lips or concentrated furrow in his brow. You remember that Cancer was still visible in the sky this time of year and no matter how many times Karkat traced an upside down Y in the air you couldn’t quite make it out. He blamed it on your shades.

   You blamed it on him. Out loud. Inwardly- you kind of wanted to tell him you-

   “Dave?” Ah- you’d been staring.

   You cleared your throat, “yeah man?” God you sounded pathetic.

   “Why are you always doing that?”

   “Doing what?” Oh god.

   “Staring.”

   It felt like the air had been stolen from your lungs. Your chest empty aside from the nervous hammering of your heart. “I don’t- what are you talking about man?” You wiggled your shades as if to say how would you know? But your wavering voice couldn’t convince even your own ears.

   There was a hesitance in his eyes underneath the quiet bemused look he gave you. But when Karkat turned back to the sky and spoke, you remembered, in spite of all his aggressions, why people seemed to trust him so much. “Do you remember when John first started inviting you to movie nights?”

   You still, however, blinked at the change in subject. Not trusting your voice, you gave Karkat a curt nod, and whether or not he saw it he pressed on.

   “Obviously, I wasn’t thrilled with it at first. It wasn’t the worst we’d ever gotten along but it definitely wasn’t the best either and I… I had just been rejected. By John.” He looked to you, then back to the sky. Karkat’s hands tore through his hair like he was struggling to continue. He was embarrassed.

   “John?” You hadnt meant for your voice to come out as incredulous as it had but- you’d been there. John was your right hand man since you’d graced the public school system with your presence and Karkat had been on your radar almost just as long but you missed this?

   “Don’t laugh. Just shut up and let me say this before you make me regret it.” He pointed a not-so-threatening claw your way, the look in his eyes leaving you with little choice but to throw your hands up in mock surrender. Who were you to stop the Vantas feels jam train? No one that’s who.

   Karkat took a deep breath once he’d determined your trap was securely shut. “Yeah, looking back now I know it was stupid. I got turned down by John but you know him. He wasn’t just going to drop me for something like my embarrassing, panrotted feelings. So when you showed up for movie nights, I knew. I knew why he did it and it… it hurt, I guess.” He was so- open. More so than you had ever seen him before. Which was a sight to behold considering it’s what kept you so attached to the guy in the first place. It kept you at rapt attention.

   “I didn’t tell you that night. You probably would have shit your pants and bolted home smelling like a moo-beast discovered teen angst.” He wrinkled his nose like he could actually smell the bullshit he was spewing and despite yourself you guffawed at the asshole’s impromptu emotional call out. “I didn’t really plan on telling you anything. You were just some douche that had become semi-tolerable and started the steps up my maybe more than an acquaintance stairs but you always seem to poke your stupid human nose where it doesn’t belong and you were so infuriatingly annoying but- somehow it was the easiest conversation I’d ever had with anyone.” The further he went the more Karkat seemed to become enveloped by his own spiel. You wish you were surprised.

   “It’s not like I’m an emotionally stunted neanderthal whose empty skull contains the emotional intelligence of a rotten walnut, okay? I’ve had ‘feels jams’ before. I’ve constructed a mound of comfortable objects and shot the proverbial shit until the sun rose. I’ve even had a moirail before.” He shuddered, whatever that memory brought you couldn’t have been good. “But for some reason the most comfortable I’d ever felt was with some prick who actually doesn’t have an iota of emotional intellect and gets off on speed running bullshit via his useless mouth flaps where you need to equip a microscope and petri dish to extract what in that slew of festering refuse actually means anything to anyone.”

   “Uh-“ you raised your hand to… to what? Interject? Defend yourself? Laugh? Stop this train from reaching max speed and careening right off the blasted railroad bridge of whatever this conversation was supposed to lead to into the canyon of what the fuck is going on? But Karkat is quick to stop you with a look.

   “I’m getting there, I promise.” It’s not so much you conceding as it is you have no choice but to sit tight and await the conclusion of the Karkat Addresses His Feelings Show. “After that night I knew I’d told you so much because after what happened with John- he was acting like things were normal and they weren’t. And if I talked to Kanaya it would have been about him, and to anyone else it would have been the same or they wouldn’t have really cared but. When I talked to you- I know you didn’t know. But it was like, we didn’t have to talk about it. Whatever we did talk about you spoke to me not only like it meant something to you but like I was standing equal to you. Not only that but you gave things back? Like for the first time it was comprehensible that someone was not just listening to me but like they were taking part in whatever the hell it was. And… when it was over. You stuck around. You kept coming. And it was so comfortable.”

   The way he moved his hands, gesturing towards the night, his brow furrowing. This had to be the first time he’d ever voiced this outloud. “And it stayed comfortable. John and I drifted apart, Kanaya got busier, and you just slotted in like you were meant to be there, like we hadn’t just spent our prepubescent years at each other’s proverbial throats for the most asinine petty bullshit. So basically. What this regurgitated pan garbage roughly translates to is that… I’m grateful. I think. Or I… I’m really glad that we’re friends, Dave.” He looked at you this time. Only Karkat could be completely unashamed at the vulnerable mess he’d thrown at your feet. The look in his eyes had dared you to try and make it a joke, to challenge him.

   But you didn’t want to. There were so many things you were unsure of when it came to the anomaly that was Karkat Vantas. So many things you weren’t ready to say, to feel or acknowledge, but you could do this. The one thing you were sure of was this. What this meant to you. Maybe you couldn’t fully say what he meant to you, but you would never leave Karkat of all people hanging after a speech like that. He’d probably never forgive you if you did, anyway.

   So you smiled. Not the smarmy half baked expression you used to be the irritating little shit you are, a genuine smile. “Why do you think I’m here, man?” You were shit at laying it all out there sometimes- but Karkat did it for you and you’d be fucked if you couldn’t meet him halfway. Pushing yourself closer to him you nudged his shoulder with your own. “I’m glad we’re friends too, Karkat.”

   You stayed over at Karkat’s that night. He leant you basketball shorts that didn’t quite reach your knees and you binged a few more movies together while giving him the rundown of what he missed at prom. With the resurgence of the prom conversation you couldn’t stop your motor mouth from reiterating how you and Terezi were so far from a thing despite the epic (see: horrible) moves you busted out on the floor for one whole song before the DJs vibes weren’t even ironic to bop to.

   The look Karkat gave you made you feel like you’d recounted the whole instance in Latin or like you were the biggest idiot in the universe. That and his very slow, shockingly concise explanation that all of his feelings for Terezi outside the realm of friendship had been left in middle school. Huh.

   Over the summer you got a job. You didn’t need the money per-say. The way things were you could ask Aunt Rolal for whatever and she’d happily help you out but- something about it made you uncomfortable. To be handed things with nothing expected of you in return- or just to be told yes- or to ask for things at all? Regardless of the exact feeling, you wanted to do something yourself. Even if that meant waking up at 10 a.m. on Saturdays and four other days of week just to stand behind a greasy concession counter and butter popcorn for over eager preteens without their parents in public for the first time or your own peers who were spending their summer in full leisure mode. Not that you were bitter about that. You wanted a job, and the movies? Not the worst summer time gig.

   It was a pretty cool job. Your two days off were always together, you got free movies, and your coworkers were pretty chill. Even during the rushes you were the freshest meat there so everyone else kept their cool and things were pretty smooth sailing. Your friends even visited you now and then. They were mostly there for the movies of course but they always came to see them on your shift and that definitely counted for something.

   Karkat even came in once. It was one of your rare evening shifts. You were filling in for a coworker who had a family event that weekend and working the concession counter in the back hall of the theater. Less of a main stop and more of an in the middle of the movie refill joint. So you got to run the counter by yourself and customers were few and far between.

   The night was filled with doodles on receipts and lengthy text additions to your blogs based on the latest movie releases considering you’d seen just about all of them. Karkat showed his face at your humble concession counter in the middle of one such addition, nearly scaring you out of your skin when he cleared his throat.

   “So do you actually work here or is this just a front for more SBAHJ bullshit?” Karkat nodded to the Sweet Bro receipt doodle on the counter you’d forgotten about.

   Unperturbed you leaned across the counter, arms folded beneath you. “Didn’t know you were visiting me in my 9-5, Karkat, shoulda given me a heads up I could have gotten you in for cheaper man. I’ve got the hook-ups now, the connections, the people on the inside, the speed dial to-“ Karkat silenced you with a hand to your mouth, typical.

   “Yeah, that’s okay. Considering I also have a job I can cover a movie ticket just fine. I came here with somebody anyway.”

   “Mmff-mmm?” With who?

   Karkat removed his hand, instead putting an empty slurpee cup on the counter, the reason he was there in the first place. “An upperclassman from last year’s government class. She’s graduated now but she wouldn’t stop pestering me till I agreed to go out with her before she moves out east for college.”

   “What? Like a date?” Causality was your speciality, your occupation, your passion instilled from the moment the Doctor spanked your ass into reality. The way the question fell out of your mouth, however, lacked all that and more. Which of course, didn’t slip Karkat’s notice.

   He furrowed his brows, stepping up to your glass counter stuffed with sweets as if meeting whatever wavering challenge laid in your expression. “Like I’m going out to the movies with an upperclassman before she moves away from this shithole town. Is there something wrong with that?” He nudged the slushie cup forward so you were forced to straighten before snatching it off the counter.

   “Course not. Just a question.” You turned away from him then, the drink refill giving you an excuse to catch yourself for a moment.

   What was wrong with you? Yeah Karkat was mad but you spat the question at him like he’d spit in your cheerios, like being at the movies with some chick was something he wasn’t allowed to do? Some chick he never told you he had any interest in hitting up a first date hot spot with. A first date hot spot you worked at?

   You shook your head as you moved over from the cherry flavor to the coke flavor. Without even asking or thinking about it you’d made Karkat’s favorite slushie on reflex. Jesus Christ. Steeling yourself you snapped the lid on his drink and turned back to him. The expression on his face was horrifically familiar. You knew you’d seen it before- or some version of it. It made your stomach twist.

   “What’s the matter with you?” He crosses his arms instead of taking the drink.

   “Was this slushie for your date then? Sorry, man. Best bro reflexes and all.” You shrugged, not feeling all that sorry for the slushie, but rather for your mouth acting as your personal shovel digging you deeper into whatever the hell this thing was between the two of you. You didn’t want Karkat to keep making this face. You hated this one. What were you doing? Why were you… mad? Disgusted? With Karkat?

   The drink was placed on the counter between the two of you. He didn’t move to grab it. “You’re jealous.”

   It felt like the Earth was about to swallow you whole. Like the floor would give any moment and plummet you straight to its core. “I don’t even know the chick, I don’t think it’s possible for me to be jealous over some broad I’ve never met. And between you and me, dude, I’ve had more success in the dating scene so I don’t really think you getting a little here and there is gonna scare me out of the field just yet.” Shit shit shit shit. What was your problem? You were supposed to make Karkat happy, you weren’t supposed to take several years of work into arguably the most important relationship you’d ever fallen assbackwards into and send it up in flames.

   “That’s not what I mean and you know it.” He left you there like that. Taking his drink and disappearing into the adjacent theater. The cinema was slow that night and you were working the back counter alone with only your gnawing guilt and internal panic for company.

   When the movie was over you saw them. She was a troll who seemed to be capable of matching his smarmy attitude without missing a beat and got a kick out of it too, if her raucous laughter was anything to go by. Karkat made a point not to look at you. You knew that’s what it was because when Karkat was upset it was all he could think about. He hated leaving things half finished or they’d eat at him until it was resolved. But there he was- completely over you.

   Karkat Vantas was at the movies with some girl you didn’t know laughing it up and so over you you weren’t even on his mind as he strolled out of the theater.

   Over your shit. Completely over your shit.

   Karkat didn’t message you that night. Or the next day. Or the day after that. Not that you blamed him. Even if your ‘weekend’ was fast approaching and you guys had made plans to get your summer time chill on at your place. You couldn’t bring yourself to message him either. It wasn’t fair to expect him to just forget about it but you didn’t know how to pick up after the colossal ass you’d been and you wouldn’t be surprised if he left your sorry ass on read.

   Okay. Desperate times called for desperate measures and you were a starving man crawling through the desert of the no-bro zone without a Karkat oasis in sight, not even a mirage to give you the false hope of quenching your bro-thirst. Uh. Anyway.

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --

TG: yo
TG: hope im not interrupting any hot vampire summertime sleepovers or nothin but
TG: you got a second?
TG: or a few minutes
TG: shit slow as all hell here today so if you were feeling generous enough as to dip your dainty goth chick toes into this strider slew of questionable emotional turmoil like it’s a fresh at home pedi spa or whatever you girls like these days a bro would really appreciate it

TT: I’m not sure your foot spa is really up to par with modern health regulations, so while I will have to pass up on that for now I do have a few moments in which I could spare to give you a, what’s up? Seeing as this absolutely could not wait until we were inevitably under the same roof later today.
TT: So, what’s up?

TG: cool cool
TG: uhhhhh
TG: so i may have fucked up
TG: which of course is usually no big deal like haha theres dave fucking up some shit once again what will he do next the public just cant get enough of this dumbass like they couldn’t get enough of banksy spray painting the wokeness all over public property with no face to the crime
TG: theyre all slack jawed waiting for my next move my next big fuck up master piece
TG: no it won’t be some knock off tim burton dirty amusement park every modern fantasy show would kill to climax at but the public is assured it will be just as embarrassing

TT: Not that I don’t love the accidental ripping on overrated modern art here but I actually do have plans today.

TG: right
TG: sorry
TG: i pissed karkat off
TG: and hold your snarky broad line about how unimpressive or whatever it is because usually yeah it’s cool
TG: hes a sensitive dude i know that
TG: think i got the best bro title with my thumbs up my ass these past few years?
TG: nah the karkat emote show is my specialty

TT: So what do you need my help for? Mr. Specialist.

TG: i
TG: i snapped
TG: at karkat……
TG: so its my fault and i KNOW that
TG: but i dont know how the fuck im supposed to smooth it over with the guy when i dont really get why i did it in the first place
TG: and if anyone is good at pointing unwelcome fingers of psych eval at me its you

TT: I thought you didn’t want me pointing my unwelcome psychological evaluations at you anymore?

TG: this time im welcoming it
TG: im being the welcomist
TG: please wipe your feet on my brains welcome matt and hang your coat by the door while I whisk my brain-self to the kitchen to fetch you some brain-refreshments you can enjoy by the roaring flame of my brain-hearth

TT: Hmm okay. What exactly happened? What led up to you snapping and what was said?

TG: i was workin and he rolled up like
TG: ‘hey dave’
TG: ‘you mind refilling my slurpee bro? im in the middle of a hot date rn with some hot graduated fishy troll chick in a dark movie theater that i totally let slip my mind to tell you about before this exact moment where it just kinda looks like i didnt know youd be here to catch me red handed’

TT: Said Verbatum?

TG: yeah
TG: obviously
TG: i just
TG: i asked if he was on a date and he asked if i was JEALOUS of him or something
TG: which i wasnt cause who even the hell was that chick other than not my business
TG: and he just stormed off

TT: I thought you said this was your fault? You seem awfully angry at Karkat here.

TG: i mean
TG: I am
TG: or it is
TG: it is my fault because i flailed my shitty attitude in his face and started the whole thing but i dont
TG: i dont know what made me take that flip off the proverbial handle and swan dive myself right back into karkats bad graces

TT: So, Karkat going on a movie date made you angry?

TG: no
TG: …

TT: ...

TG: i mean
TG: yeah

TT: You didn’t know the girl?

TG: guess ive seen her around but not really no

TT: Was Karkat bailing on plans you had together?

TG: uh no

TT: So then you tell me, Dave. What does a bro have to be angry about when their best bro goes on a date?
TT: Is it maybe that bro A has a less than savorable dating scene but can’t admit it and has to release the frustrations on bro B?

TG: aw dude no

TT: Or

TG: or

TT: Was it jealousy not for Karkat, but for his date?

TG: what

TT: Oh, Kanaya’s back. We’ve got plans with Jade so I’ll have to get back to you later, Dave. Do tell me how this goes. Try to keep it together until your shift is over at the very least.
TT: I’ll see you at home.
TG: rose

-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --

TG: no no
TG: come on
TG: you cant just drop some heavy life altering questions like that and then leave a guy hanging
TG: you just left me with more questions than what i came here with
TG: what is that even supposed to mean?
TG: jealous of who? miss pink shades? yeah no thanks not really my color dog
TG: i understand that doesnt really help my case here but hear me out the point of this was that i TOLD karkat im not jealous because im not
TG: if i wanted to go flaunt my cool guy shit out there for the world to see i would and id be boarding up our windows lockin all the doors cause shit would get outta hand so fast too fast
TG: even rolals sweet digs couldnt keep the babes away from this hot piece of premium strider ass
TG: once im out there its inevitable
TG: global warming wont even hold a torch to the amount of heat id be bringing to the dating scene
TG: the environmentalists would throw recycling headlines out the window instead it all reads about dave strider the hot streak on the dating scene
TG: when will his reign of terror against our planet end? when will he settle down and let our ice caps reform? when will he care about the polar bears whose little ice houses are melting beneath their paws?
TG: cant a guy just be upset that his best bro is on a date with some mystery girl and it not have to have some wild meaning
TG: not that im still upset about the date
TG: because im not
TG: karkat can do whatever he wants with his romantic endeavors
TG: because thats got nothing to do with me
TG: because were bros
TG: and bros dont get mad about other bros succeeding in the dating zone
TG: because thats
TG: not a bro thing
TG: to do
TG: its
TG: …………...
TG: oh goddammit

-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --

   Rose knew exactly what she was doing. Leaving you alone with this half empty movie theater and your thoughts. You couldn’t even get a half assed panel finished for your weekly update. The pen betrayed you every time. It looked forced like you couldn’t summon the usual six layers of vapid humor your readers knew and loathed you for.

   You had abandoned the sixth sad Hella Jeff sketch in favor of wiping the snack counter glass when the first customer in three hours announced herself.

   “Yo. Lil’ D Strides. My lady needs a refill, can you hook a gill up?” You looked up in time to see a skinny troll girl making a hook gesture with her fingers that weren’t occupied holding said empty cup. “Babes wants a sprite. Y’know how it is.”

   “Holy fucking shit.” Whoops.

   The shark tooth smile fell and the girl, the girl with fluorescent pink shades and braids flowing well past her well toned stomach, the girl who had just taken Karkat Vantas out and was now jabbing her thumb toward some dolled up blue blood headed to the women's restroom.

   “Don’t get your panties in a twist, I know your brother or whatever.” She put the cup in front of you, your mind flashing to just days ago with Karkat. The universe liked playing this little game with you apparently.

   “Right.” This was just some chick. There was no need to be so uncool about this and you were cool. Cucumber cool. That was lame. Even Karkat would have called you on how dry that shit was. But Karkat wasn’t here. The dude wasn’t even speaking to you. He was too busy going out with bean pole troll chicks that apparently had major game considering she was already on her second date of the week.

   Hold on.

   “Sorry ‘bout that. Got all distracted with the absolute pheromones flying off all the lovesick fools crawling into my humble cinema.” You took your time heading to the soda machine. The slushie maker groaned. “See you look real similar to this broad that was slinking up on my man’s here the other day. Looked real cozy the two of ‘em. All red lights from what I saw. Troll Red lights- the good stuff.” Drink filled and lid secured, you held her sprite, not relinquishing it over the counter just yet. “Must’ve gotten confused. Human senses. You know how it is.”

   For a long moment she just peered at you over her glasses, sizing you up. It made your skin crawl. Your muscles tense.

   “So what if I am?” She said finally. “What’s that got to do with you, Big Buoy? Tryna tell me my little catch is off the market or some-fin?”

   “No.” You ground out, her satisfied smirk fraying at what little patience the day was already granting you. “Just wondering if he knows about what else you're reeling in.”

   The sea dweller leaned in, her voice low. “You sayin’ someone’s gonna blab? Now what would anyone wanna do that for?” Her fingers reached the cup between you, but you held fast.

   “I don’t know who you think you are,” you stepped in closer, miraculously the drink didn’t burst between you, “but he’s not someone to fuck around with.” Stop. “He deserves someone serious about him.” Abort. “Not some half baked cod with puns as dry as her game.” Holy fuck not cool, dude. Was this how it felt to be Karkat? So full of molten hot feelings begging to rupture through your skin at any second and saturating every word that fell out of your mouth.

   You expected her to bite something back, maybe dump the drink on you and watch it steam off your skin.

   But instead she laughed. Hearty, belly deep cackling. She pulled the drink easily from your limp fingers and rubbed a fake tear from her eye. “Oh man!” What the hell was going on? Why was every girl in your life crazy? “He said you were some-fin else but my guy you are a riot.”

   She took another three whole minutes to settle her laughter before continuing. Leaving you standing there looking like an absolute buffoon with your proverbial thumbs up your ass waiting for the second shoe to fall on this asinine dog and pony show that was your life in this current moment.

   “Look fish fry,” she shot a look behind her. To the blue blood now exiting the bathroom and offering a demure smile. “I’ve only got one flavor on the mind right now and it ain’t your little cherry delight. This was fun though! I’ll have Crabs or Dirk slip you my handle sometime so we can do this again.” She offered a wave, “You guys are gonna look real cute together!”

   It was that moment, both girls retreating to their theater and leaving you dumbstruck behind the counter, that two things occurred to you. First, the decade old slushie machine exploded cherry syrup all over your pants and was beginning to stain the whites of your converse. Second, Karkat told her about you.

   “What the fuck?”

   You knew. You felt it crawling up from your gut and into your throat like ivy creeping up walls. It threatened to overwhelm you and spill out of your mouth the more time passed. It was your day off before you knew it, the plans you had with Karkat only hours away and the two of you had barely spoken since your fight. It all swirled in your head on an endless loop.

   You had messaged him once. A sort of half baked apology along with a link to a comic update you thought he’d like but… you weren’t proud of that. He deserved better. But giving him something better would mean acknowledging this… whatever this was between the two of you. Whatever this was you’d been holding back for longer than you’d like to admit.

   Two hours before Karkat was supposed to arrive you were burning a hole into the living room carpet, pacing back and forth back and forth. Rose gave you a hearty laugh on her way out, clearly finding something about your distress funny. Whatever.

   If Karkat didn’t show up you weren’t sure what you’d do. Not because you couldn’t handle a bro night without your favorite bro (though it would be a travesty) but it would mean he was so angry with you he didn’t even want to see you anymore. So angry he was finished with you. You felt like you were gonna throw up.
Dirk caught you next. Coming home from god knows where, likely Jake’s by the look of dirt crusting into his jeans. He didn’t give you the same patronizing laugh as Rose did but the look he gave you when you stopped pacing, arms hung at your sides helplessly, he may as well have.

   “Dude?” He cocked a brow at you and tossed his bag to the floor with a dull thwump. “The last time I saw you kickin’ it up here you had dropped one of Rose’s books in the pool.” He was right. Usually you spent your time in the basement you two shared. Finished with a common area, bathroom, and a bedroom for each of you- once Auntie Rolal got you that mini fridge for your last birthday you rarely left when you were home.

   “I-“ you started, squaring your shoulders and trying to make yourself seem a bit more put together than you felt. “Karkat’s coming over.”

   “Okay?” Dirk said it slowly. Drawing out the word as he unbuttoned his cool (see: douche-y) guy gloves and set them on the end table. “I thought that was a good thing.”

   “Of course it’s a good thing. Everyone knows the summer is supposed to be spent attached at the hip to your closest and chilliest bro. Even if Karkat isn’t literally the chillest he’s still my chilliest. Well not my chilliest but like- the coolest guy currently in my life that I also happen to have a healthy brolationship with.” You might as well have just been Karkat with the over abundance of stupid fucking hand gestures you were pulling out for this train wreck. “Because to meet the hot summer standards it can’t just be any Dick or Henry off the street the Dick has to have some kind of meaning, you know, it has to be special.”

   “And Karkat is your ‘special Dick’?” Dirk deadpanned.

   “Yeah exact- No! No!” You could feel the heat burn your face as you desperately tried to backpedal. Unfortunately for you this train had a fixed trajectory right to ‘fuck’ and ‘Dave’. “I mean yes the guy is special to me obviously and he is capable of being a Dick but not- not those-“

   Dirk held up a hand, stopping you before you could dig yourself any deeper. “Look man, why don’t you sit on your special bro feelings for a minute and tell Karkat how much you want to kiss him when he gets here, okay? No reason to tell me.” And with that Dirk exited stage left. Leaving you alone to stew on your tangled up bro feelings.

 

   Karkat didn’t stand you up and frankly, you weren’t sure whether you were relieved or not at this point. Sure he still wanted to see you but now Dirk’s words played on repeat in your head leaving you jumpy and down right embarrassed while you attempted to make everything between the two of you seem normal.

   “So this is the pad.” You waved your arms unceremoniously while you led Karkat through the shared basement space. There was a tv already set up with games and whatever garbage (epic) movies you had collected that he (probably) wouldn’t hate stacked up on the table below. Stationed in front of it was a well worn, well loved, not quite threadbare couch with a hideous 70s style orange and red mash up pattern that was an assault on anything seeing. But hey, it was comfortable.

   “Yeah, I’ve been here before, Dave.” Karkat rolled his eyes, his backpack finding a home next to your bedroom door. He spoke to you easy enough, casual enough, but he left a wide space between you, ripe with tension as he walked.

   “Right. Yeah. So you know where everything is which brings my tour guide career to an end. Thank you for attending the DS tour service, unfortunately your scathing burn of a Yelp review has sent me out on the streets. Not a dime left in the business I’m crashing harder than the stock markets in the Great D. Which is the only thing left of m-“

   Karkat’s hand brings your spiel to a crashing halt. “Shut your speech flaps before you rupture my ears.” He had stepped close enough that you were offered a front row seat to the myriad of expressions that overtook his face in rapid succession. By the end of whatever internal panic overtook him he wrenched his hand away as if you’d scalded him, wiped it on his jeans and kept his face turned from you. His ears were glowing scarlet when he spoke again.

   “So what are we poisoning what’s left of our pans tonight? Horrific B rated comedy or violent video games?”

   You were rooted to the spot. Your brain still hadn’t caught up with everything that had just happened and the expression on Karkat’s face was burned into your mind. Like the one from middle school, the one from the grocery store, the one he made when you dangled from the tree outside his window in a pressed tux. You couldn’t decide which one it most resembled but bearing the full onslaught of it head on made your knees weak and a strange warmth fill you to the soles of your feet.

   You licked your lips, the silence had stretched on long enough that Karkat was facing you again, his mouth set in a resolute line. “Games.” Your voice came out weak. Clearing your throat you tried again. “We’ve seen all those movies anyway. They got an official Karkat rating and the verdict was so bad IMDb covered the movies up like a presidential scandal.” A movie was two hours of tense silence, shoulder to shoulder with nothing to do but watch. Games kept you talking, busy, distracted.

   And you were. Karkat wasn’t abysmal at games but he wasn’t good either. To his credit he didn’t play on this system or this game unless he was with you. There were actually a lot of things Karkat didn’t do if he wasn’t with you. Like going to the mall, buying frozen pizzas, falling asleep in the middle of hang outs, smiling that wide toothy grin that exposed his crooked canines. Huh.

   They were all so subtle you hadn’t connected them together until this point. The closer he got the less you used other people as Karkat references. You didn’t need to watch him interact with John or Kanaya to understand how he felt. He told you. He showed you more than he showed anyone else. Maybe that’s-

   “I’m sorry.” Karkat spoke suddenly over the white noise of the game's loading screen.

   “Huh?”

   “The fight. Or whatever. At your work. I shouldn’t have… done that. Run my leg extremities into my nutrition chute like some bellicose customer huffing at your counter like you owe me something.” Karkat’s face twisted up into something you could only call embarrassment. Him? Weren’t you the one who freaked the vibes out so bad he didn’t talk to you for several days? But he just kept going.

   “Because obviously you don’t.” His hands tore through his wild curls, making an even worse mess of it. “I just- I got… confused. Ahead of myself. I mix that shit up sometimes.” You hated the look on his face. Karkat never tried to write things off, but here he was, that look you had seen so many times burning in his eyes and he was trying to put it out with a roll of his shoulders. It made your stomach twist, your tongue heavy in your mouth. “You don’t need to say anything. I just wanted to tell you I’m not gonna pull that embarrassing shit again so if we could just erase it from our feeble pans and just keep doing this,” he gestured vaguely around himself, “I would really fucking appreciate it.”

   It was like watching everything you’d ever come to know getting turned inside out. Years of watching, observing, playing out in quick succession before you. So many different angles, but somewhere along the line they all blurred together directly in front of you. For you. Because of you. There was no John, no Terezi, no Harley, reflected in his expression. There hadn’t been for a long time.

   You had spent so much time at a distance. “What are we doing?” You hadn’t even considered it.

   Karkat blanched. He wasn’t expecting that. “I- this.” He gestured helpless between the two of you, a halfhearted flick towards your forgotten game. But it was a cop out, a red herring. But was it for him or was it for you? Suddenly a lot of what the troll did was starting to line up, connecting in a way that made your insides buzz, all the way to your chest.

   How long? How long had it been you making him look this way and not someone else? How long had you been masquerading as the bystander you resigned yourself to when in reality you had gotten yourself wound so deeply into this web you now stood at its center, face to face with this boy who had fit into the grooves of your life so perfectly you couldn’t imagine the holes it would leave if you tried to climb your way out of this tangled mess.

   Fuck this.

   “But what is it?” You pressed, leaning in with your arm braced on the cushion below. Your heart was lodged firmly in your throat while you watched Karkat’s eyes dart everywhere, everywhere but you. Searching for a way out probably. Giving you another chance to run. Giving himself another chance to swallow this whole ordeal with that harrowing look in his eyes.

   You were so goddamn stupid.

   So many years and this is what you’ve amounted it to? A game of denying the overwhelming surge of affection that was all consuming when this fiery whirlwind of a boy entered your orbit. Constantly biting it back as it bubbled against your lips, your fingertips, an insesset push to get out.

   You leaned in further, effectively boxing the other man against the arm of the couch. “Dave. It’s fine.” Karkat braced his hands against your shoulders, preparing to push you away. To end this before you stepped over the line you’d both been toeing for so long. It broke your fucking heart. “This is fine. It doesn’t need to go any deeper than that.”

   “Is that what you want?” He still hadn’t pushed you away. You really didn’t want him to. “Honestly?” You watched him intently, forgoing your shades and hooking them into your collar. It left you feeling all sorts of exposed, but with an unobstructed view of Karkat realizing just how much you meant this.

   “Does it matter?” His voice was low. Lower that he ever spoke. Even now he wouldn’t let himself hope. Wouldn’t let himself have this.

   “Since when?”

   “Does it matter?” You were so close now. So close you couldn’t help but trail his gaze down and back up. The way he licked his lips despite the desperation in his eyes.

   Every inch of you was on fire. Your hair stood on end, your chest melted. You think your hand was trembling as you reached up to hold the one he had gripping your shoulder. “Doesn’t it?”

   “No. I’m not- I’m not expecting anything. I won’t.” It was so resolute. So rehearsed.

   “What if I want you to?”

   Every line in Karkat’s body tensed at that. His eyes locked on yours. Crimson on Ruby, searching. Pleading. “What?”

   You pried Karkat’s hand away and tangled your fingers together. A lifeline for you or for him, you weren’t sure.

   “What if I want you to expect something?”

   “Dave-“

   “No, I’m serious, Karkat. I’ve spent too fucking long tripping over myself trying to figure this shit out so don’t look at me like you’ve already given up before I could even pick myself up and make up for all the time I wasted getting it wrong.” Slowly, like cracks breaking through ice, something started to pierce through that hollow look in his eyes. Something so much scarier that fueled the fire in your gut.

   “Let me get it right. Please.” You turned and pressed your lips to the inside of his palm. The result was instant.

   Karkat melted in your arms, his hand cradling the side of your face like it was something precious. Like you were something precious. And the look on his face- Jesus Christ the way he looked at you.

   It was like everything before this was muted and blurry but now the veil had been lifted and you were seeing Karkat for the very first time all over again. All sharp edges and soft eyes that pulled you down into a spiraling pit that you had never really tried to escape. You wanted this.

   In fact, there was nothing you had ever wanted more than this.

   “I tried.” He finally spoke, “I really tried to give it up.” Give you up.

   “Don’t.” Your foreheads were pressed together now. Breath mingling.

   “Were you paying attention, idiot? I can’t.”

   “Good.” And you were kissing him. Or maybe he kissed you? Neither of you could be sure. But he had one hand gripping the hair at the nape of your neck and the other holding the fabric of your poor hoodie for dear life. While you had one hand occupied keeping yourself upright above him, the other trailed down Karkat’s arm and to his side.

   How long had you been waiting for this? How long had you been sabotaging it for the both of you? Kissing Karkat was the best decision you ever made, you were going to spend everyday after this kicking yourself for not doing it sooner.

   This was everything. He was everything.

   So many years spent at so many different viewpoints, all centered around this one hot headed, brash, sharp tongued, compassionate, big mouthed, beautiful boy right at the center of it all. You could fill a million pages with all the looks you had burned into your memory, but none of them compared to the one he gave you now.

   Red faced and panting underneath you. The look in his eyes no longer hallowed you out but filled you to the brim. Warm and wonderful. You couldn’t help the stupid grin that stretched across your face as you dove in to steal a quick kiss. Then another. Another. God, you could do this for the rest of your life.

   You told him as much.

   “So do it then.” More and more that spark chased away the shadows in his expression and you were finally hit with the full force of the tenderness in it. How did you miss this? It was so obvious. So clear in everything he did. Karkat had always worn his feelings front and center. It’s what enamored you so completely in the first place.

   Because that's always what it was, wasn’t it? From day one you had been captivated by his sincere and tumultuous existence. No matter what memory you looked to, he was always the brightest part. A centerpiece that was so much more vivid than his surroundings.

   “I wanted it to be me.” You spoke suddenly, thumb rubbing circles on his hip. “I didn’t get it then but at prom, when we were kids, the dumb movie thing. Every time I was so bothered because it wasn’t me.” You knew Karkat could see the color overtaking your cheeks but he needed to know this just as much as you needed to say it. “I spent so long trying to figure you out, I didn’t even realize what I was doing.”

   “And what was that?” You could count every freckle dotting his flushed skin from this proximity, feel every bated breath as he waited for your answer.

   “I got hooked.” It came out as a breathy laugh and your heart soared when he smiled back. It was so goddamn soft your knees turned to jelly and almost collapsed onto him. “You have no idea how inside out you’ve got my life twisted up. It couldn’t have ever been anyone else.”

   “That’s my line, stupid.” The insult tore through his throat like a sob as he pulled you back down for another kiss. “It was always you. No one else.”

   It was perfect. The way his eyes glittered as they poured every said and unsaid feeling between you. His lips were swollen, grey skin alight with warm glowing red. Red you had put there. And that small smile, the way it unthreaded everything in your body so wholly and then stitched you back together again.

   It was perfect.

   The perfect view and it was all yours.

Notes:

I started this fic when I was a teenager and grew up with it, adding to it every few years so as the boys grew up in the fic I was growing up as the writer. Something I only realized once I'd finished it.