#crabapples97

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You remember the geode Jade got you, pretty and blue-ringed and just the size of your palm. You joked that she got blue because she liked it and then realised she had nothing to give you so she gave you hers.

Helping Karkat pack made you super nostalgic, so you look for it. You brave your bottom drawer, and after a bit of digging, you give up and up end the whole thing on your floor.

Something skidders out into the corridor, clattering.

“Crap!” you chase after it.

You have it in your hand before you even realise what it is.

It’s Karkat's phone.

Not the one he’s using now, duh, but the old phone. The one that he flung at you that one night, the one that's like an inside-out sandwich of circuitry and broken phone pieces.

Wow, that was two years ago.

You run the pad of your thumb over the rough circuitry edges and look over at Karkat’s door. He’s not there because he had last minute errands to run and he said he’d be back super late.

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself, turning the phone over in your hand. You said you’d get it fixed, and then you were waiting for the next model, then it was exam period, then you went back home for Christmas, then it got dumped into your drawer when you came back before Chinese New Year and you completely forgot about it.

Wow, you’re actually kind of a crappy friend.

You feel bad. Karkat is really great for putting up with you. Karkat deserves good friends.

Hm, what can you do to make it up to him?

It has to be special too! If it was just store bought stuff, he could totally get it on his own. You bite your lip and wish you had an oven in your apartment.

Probably best you didn’t, you didn’t know recipes with no sugar anyway.

Well, you could write him a note. It wasn’t super nice, but you could do it quick and it would still be meaningful.

You grab some paper and scribble a border with a blue whiteboard marker so it wouldn’t look so sad. Then you sit down and write—

‘hi karkat’

--and then it hits you that you’re writing goodbye.

That you might seriously never see Karkat again.

Your pen stills, and your hand feels numb. Your head feels numb. You have no idea what to write that won’t be super lame and utterly inadequate.

You continue with ‘thank you so much for everything’ and it means so little and this is so. Stupid.

You rip your glasses off, throw them on your table and rub at your eyes, your face.

You don’t know what to write. You don’t know anything.

There’s an indistinct need under your skin like an itch, like a food craving except you don’t know what you want.

You’re crying.

What the fuck, why are you crying?

You scrub your tears away with your sleeve and get back to writing. You’re only going to write happy things! (Karkat is leaving and it hurts, it hurts right in the middle of your chest so it’s hard to breathe.) You don’t want Karkat to leave but it’s what he wants and it’s good for him! You would be a terrible friend—the worst friend—if you told him not to go.

(But it’s so far away, he won’t even have pesterchum or facebook because Alternia sucks.)

This sucks. Everything sucks.

You were okay with this!

You were really okay with this. Until now, when you’re trying to put a lifetime’s friendship into half a page of words and write happy things because you want him to be happy. Your chest hurts and your nose is blocked and you have tears running hot down your face but you want Karkat to be happy with everything you have.

You write Karkat’s letter and put it in your wallet so you don’t forget.

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===/\===

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Karkat is practically a zombie when you knock on the side of his ‘coon the next morning. He sleeps through the drive to the airport, and you have to really shake him awake. He grumbles incoherently and drags himself out of the car.

You grab lunch and talk about a ton of trivial things. You talk about sending each other legit snail mail, holy shit. You haven’t done that since you sent Dave, Rose and Jade presents when you were kids. You manage to keep the conversation light, and Karkat makes not-frowny faces, which are as good as you’re going to get when he’s this sleep-deprived.

You walk him to the glass gates where you can’t get through without a ticket.

He turns and you think ‘this is it’. This is the big goodbye.

“Karkat,” you say.

“Yeah,” he says. “Hold on.”

You frown and stare as Karkat fishes his phone out of his back pocket and very delicately pops the SIM card out. He holds the phone out to you.

“Uh,” you say. “What?”

“This is yours,” Karkat says. You blink and the phone gleams back at you, pristine and super well taken care of.

“Oh,” you realise. “Oh, that phone. It’s yours! I broke the other one, so you can have this one, remember?”

Karkat snorts. “John, we both know that phone was my own fault.”

He offers the phone again, and you suddenly remember.

“Wait, wait, wait, keep that and I have something for you!” you tell him and pull your wallet and the letter from your pocket.

“This!” you say and tuck the letter into his hand.

“Okay,” Karkat says, and he starts to open it.

“No no no no no, don’t read it now!”

“It’s my letter now, so I’m going to read it!” Karkat shoots back, and he mock-growls with teeth at you.

“Noooooooo,” you groan, and he actually starts reading it. You can’t look at him and you bounce your weight on the balls of your feet while looking everywhere but him reading your super sappy writing.

“Thanks,” he says when he’s done. He sounds so far away and you don’t even care that hugging is some weird thing to trolls, you hug the stuffing out of your buddy Karkat.

“Aw man, I’m going to miss you so much,” you say and your voice kind of cracks a little near the end and dies before you can say ‘take care of yourself okay’.

“John,” he says, and it’s the way he says your name, “Zhann”, all buzzy and distinctly Karkat. “You’re going to break my goddamn vertical support column you panrotten shit.”

He hugs you back though, and you can feel his hands through the back of your hoodie, curled with claws into his fists and the insides of his forearms pressed against your back. He’s pressed against you and he’s warm and breathing with his face buried in the front of your hoodie and you’re still not close enough. How can you get close enough to make up for him being miles and miles and whole, entire continents away possibly forever?

He’s so perfect and you kiss him, quick across the lips.

Karkat blinks.

“I thought you’re ‘not a homosexual’?” he asks dryly.

“I’m not!” you respond instantly, indignant.

(You want to kiss him again.)

“Then kindly enlighten me as to what the fuck that was, John.”

He’s getting mad. Shit oh shit oh shit, you would get mad too, in his situation. Maybe. You think. You aren’t thinking very much right now. Karkat’s red and gold eyes are super close and he’s glaring and his claws are in your hoodie and you couldn’t run if you tried.

“I don’t know,” you say, running a hand through your hair. You can’t meet his eyes, so you look just over his shoulder, off to one side. “I just—sorry, man. Haha, I—”

“You are the biggest fuckass,” he says and he leans forward. You meep.

Karkat sighs and pulls back, but doesn’t let go of your hoodie.

“Make up your mind, John,” he says. “If you want me, all you have to do is fucking say so. I’ve been panfucked stupid over you for two sweeps now. You’re the goddamn stars and moons to me in case you haven’t noticed, numbnuts. You and your fucking blue eyes and imbecilic face—”

He’s got that look again, where he’s going to cry and he’s tired and he’s angry and he’s tired of being angry and he wants to cuddle you and watch a movie until both of you fall asleep and he runs his fingers through your hair when he thinks you’re asleep but you’re not.

You can’t breathe. He’s so close if you breathe you’d be breathing together.

“Peel your aural shells and fucking listen to me this one time, because I sure as fuck am not repeating myself here,” Karkat orders, right in your face.

You give him a nervous smile and the grip on your hoodie tightens.

“I love you, John Egbert,” Karkat says, and he means it. “I love you, and I’m fucking miserable and I can’t stop. I don’t even care if you can’t love me back, I just. I just want you to be happy because I’m a laughable shit who’s horns over heels red for a human. Thanks for tolerating my existence. The last few years were… nice.”

He takes a shuddering breath, and his hands uncurl, leaving heat over your shoulder blades.

(You’re so close to crying again, and you’re horrified because last night was one thing but now you’re in public.)

You can’t—

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “I’m so sorry.” You hug him again, crushingly tight, saying it over and over again. “I’m so sorry, Karkat, I’m so sorry.”

“Goddamnit John, I—”

He’s shaking a little and he’s probably crying and no, you don’t want Karkat crying, no no no no –

So you kiss him, kiss him on the mouth, kiss his cheeks and his eyelids like that would kiss his tears away. They taste bittersweet, like cherry cough syrup that doesn’t taste like cherries at all, but can’t be anything else.

“Karkat,” you say, whispered against his temple. “Karkat, you’re important to me. You’re so, so, so important. I… I can’t imagine what life was like before you, I— seriously. I’m going to miss you. I already miss you. I miss you so, so much—”

“But you don’t love me.”

He says it like a death sentence and your insides cringe.

“Karkat, it’s not that. It’s just… I don’t know. I don’t know what this kind of love is? Like, I know I love my dad and my friends, Rose, Dave, Jade, they’re important. And you’re important. And I like you. I really like you, and we like the same things and you’re funny and cute and you care and I just.”

You take a breath.

“I feel like I could?” you say tentatively.

In your arms, Karkat goes very still.

“I think I could like you in that way,” you say again with less question in it. “I really do. I’m just not sure whether I can call it that just yet, but I really like you and— arghhhhhhhhh why is explaining things so hard! I’m trying, I swear I am!”

You put your chin on his shoulder and glare at the floor.

“Right,” Karkat says next to your ear. “In small words, John. What do you want from me?”

“I want what we had,” you mumble into his shoulder.

Karkat tenses minutely against your chest.

“I can’t do that anymore,” he says, clipped.

“I’m sorry, Karkat, I don’t know what to say!” you push away. “What do you want me to say!”

His hands are just above your elbows now, holding you there and he stares at you and you feel dumb and awful. It’s so simple, you just want him to stay. Why must things be so complicated?

“What do you want?” you ask again, this time in your indoor voice.

He looks at you and you feel that horrible tightness in your chest coming back again.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks very solemnly.

You don’t think that’s what’s important now but you nod anyway.

His hands come up to your jaw and neck, and he presses his lips to yours. He’s so gentle it’s like he thinks you’re going to break if he so much as twitches wrong.

“Was that okay?” he asks when he pulls away. You give a nod again, and you have the question ‘how is this helping’ bursting right under your skin, and you can’t say it.

He looks down, at your chest. (At your heart.)

“It’s your choice to make,” he says, without looking at your face. His hands are back on your arms, right above your elbows, curled into the fabric. His hands are trembling. “I’m not asking you to fall in love with me right now, or to love me forever and a day or die for me or some shit like that. Real life isn’t like that, I get it. I know. All I’m asking is that you give me a chance. If you can promise me that, I’m yours.”

Oh.

Okay. Wow. That’s … so serious.

You don’t know what to say. Karkat holds onto you, and the digital numbers on the wall past the glass doors flicker another minute closer to when Karkat’ll have to leave.

You don’t want this choice. It’s heavy, it’s important and so huge that you’re not even sure what the borders of ‘this’ are, you can’t even begin to fathom what this step would hold. It’s like you’re standing at the edge of a chasm where you can’t see the bottom, except that’s never scared you before.

You think maybe Karkat’s scared of your answer. You don’t know what to think.

You can only imagine what it’s like to hold something an almost-secret, never say it, never do anything about it, for two entire years or more. You wouldn’t be able to.

The clock flickers another minute away.

What is a chance? You don’t know. You haven’t thought about it before, except maybe to laugh about people doing dumb things in movies with Jade when you were younger. Rose might have mentioned ‘giving nice guys a chance’ with scorn, or was that Rose’s girlfriend?

Would it be worse to do that? But this is different! You like Karkat. You always have.

You’re taking too long to decide. Karkat’s sort of… deflated, shoulders slumped in, like if he made himself small enough, you won’t see that’s he’s right in front of you. Something in your chest shrinks along with him, and there’s this knee-jerk urge to ‘make it better’, make him ‘not hurting’.

You love all your friends, and Karkat’s your friend. Maybe one day you can grow to love him the way he wants. And if he thinks that’s good enough, then it’s good enough for you too. You can try. You want to try.

In the end, you always were the type of person who’d jump the edge, and have faith in the air rushing past you.

(Have faith in him.)

Another minute goes.

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, okay. Let’s do this.”

Karkat stops breathing. He looks at you like you aren’t real, like he’s about to cry, but they’d be happy tears. Or at least not sad-tears. Sometimes there’s not that much difference, when you’ve been hurting for a while. Wow, you aren’t making sense! Your relief is so strong you just want to start giggling, laugh forever.

It’s great. This is great. Yeah, you definitely made the right choice.

You kiss him and break into a smile at the end.

“Hi Karkat,” you grin.

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===/END\===

 On Ao3. Part 1,  Part 2, Part 2 notes, Part 3, Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 (end)

Dave staggers backwards because he weighs practically nothing and then flails and grabs you and—WOAH you drop and roll and go thump-thump –thump down stairs like a cartoon pinwheel of cat and dog.

You land on your back and look up at the open night sky.

“I fucking WARNED you about the STAIRS, bro!” Dave shouts at the sky, from somewhere near you. He doesn’t even need to shout, the music is far enough you could hear him if he talked loud, but you still feel the thudding beat in your bones and heart.

You snicker.

“You’re SO LAME, Dave!” You shout back, only slightly turning your head in his direction. You guys landed kind of like that teenager cancer movie Karkat forced you to watch, only more out at an angle so you can’t see him anyway. Maybe a 160 degree angle.

“LAME,” you repeat when Dave doesn’t answer. “Get it? Because we FELL DOWN.”

“GodDAMN Egbert,” Dave groans dramatically, but then he ruins it by giggling.

“WHAT?” you demand because that’s the drunk version of the choked snorfle Dave does when he has a comeback so bad it’s hilarious.

“I KNEW you WERE TROUBLE WHEN YOU WALKED IIIIN,” Dave shouts.

You grin, you know this song!

“So SHAME on ME,” you yell back. “AND NOW I’M LYING ON THE COLD HARD FLOOR!”

“GOG JOHN, THOSE ARE NOT THE LYRICS. You pop music PLEEB, holy fuck I am losing coolness points just by being near you!”

“… GRASS! ‘Cause we’re lying on GRASS, not FLOOR.”

“YOU TWO ARE EMBARASSING!” Karkat yells from far away. His voice is great, it cuts through the heavy beat and the crowd and really booms over the grassy field.

“WE LOVE YOU TOO, KARKAT!” you yell back, hands cupped around your mouth for maximum loudness.

Dave groans and you see him kick and roll in your peripheral vision.

“Johnnnnn, noooo,” he says.

“Daaaaaave, YESSSSSSS!”

“Nooooo! HEY KARKLES, FOR THE RECORD, IT’S JUST JOHN.”

“Shut UPPPP DAVE. YOU’RE DRUNK.”

"HEY, LOOK WHO’S THE TALKING TEAPOT CALLING THE KETTLE BLACK LIKE A RACIST ASSHOLE DOUCHE.”

“YOU’RE BOTH DRUNK AND GODDAMN FUCKING SHITSTAINS ON THE REPUTATION OF THE GENERAL PUBLIC AND YOUR LUSII,” Karkat contributes from the top of the stairs. You turn your head but you can’t see him.

“YOU SHOULD JOIN US,” you shout, and in the side of your vision, Dave kick-rolls again and you see him jolt up.

“Aw HELLA no, I’m not staying here for THAT. GOODBYE, EGBERT.”

He staggers to his feet like the floor is a ball pit, and you grab him round the knees and he tumbles. 

“I DON’T WANT TO BE FIRST ROW TO YOUR YAOI SLOPPY MAKEOUTS BRUH, LEMME GOOOOOO.”

Your face is hot and you blame the whiskey.

“SHUT UPPPP, oh my GOD, THAT IS NOT TRUE. KARKAT! DON’T LISTEN TO DAVE! DAVE IS A LYING LIAR!”

“EXCEPT THE PART WHERE IT’S FUCKING TRUE.”

“NO NOOOO NOO IT’S NOT! WE’RE NOT HOMO, IT’S ONLY CUDDLES!”

“OH YEHH? WHAT ABOUT THE FUCKING P A N C A K E S BRO.”

"NOOOOOOOOO THAT DOESN’T COUNT! THAT WAS LIKE ONCEEEE, AND LIKE, TWO YEARS AGOOOOOOOO!”

“BUT YO MOVIES BRUH, THAT WAS LIKE. YESTERDAY.”

“Aaaaalright guys!” Jade says and suddenly Dave is dragged away and Jade has him under the arms in an incomplete master lock. “Student union peeps say that people are going to call security on us, so let’s get you home, kay?”

“Jade, did you have stuff?” you frown at her.

“Yeh Jade, did you even drink?” Dave asks.

“Of course!” she says and she hefts him higher, her face half disappearing behind his shoulder. “Hey, Karkat, can you get John home? Kanaya’s taking Rose, I’ve got to take Dave since Tavros can’t and—”

“And Gamzee and Terezi are godfucking knows where,” Karkat says dryly, and he’s suddenly standing next to you, sneakers by your hair. Hehe, you can see up his nose from here.

“Oooh, gonna take me home mister Vantas?” you say and wag your eyebrows at him.

He snorts.

“You think you’re so clever, but you’ve already flogged that joke of a hoofbeast a million fucking times,” he says as he crouches and Dave makes distressed whale noises and Jade cheerfully offers to haul his unconscious body back to his apartment if he doesn’t stop flopping about.

“Did you drink?” you ask as Karkat gets a hand behind your back and pushes you to a sitting position.

“Yes, but I could drink a literal fountain of human alcohol and it would do approximately fuckall, John,” he says and he slips an arm around your waist and pulls you up.

“Wooooow, I’m swooning,” you snicker and you drop your weight against him all at once. Karkat sways and recovers a step but you can’t get him to stagger because he’s built denser and solid-er than he looks.

“See you, Harley,” Karkat says.

“You’re walking back?” Jade asks. She opens one hand and she has keys. They jangle prettily. Jade’s pretty and cool and the best cousin ever and also the best car person. Jade is so great.

“Shut up, John, you need the walk. Yeah, thanks but we’ll walk.”

“Okay,” she says and she drags Dave away. Not fair. Jade drives a freaking truck, it could totally have taken all of you.

But hey, on the bright side, you’re used to walking home and you have a nice campus. And a nice Karkat. Karkat so great too.

You pat Karkat on the side of his head and he makes a face, all scrunched up.

You don’t remember much from the walk back except stopping Karkat on the field where you always play Frisbee and telling him about the awesome game you played with Dave against Terezi and Vriska. You suggest Karkat play. You suggest Karkat play right now. Karkat calls you an idiot and points out neither of you have a disc. You try and fail to think of a clever reply to that. Karkat laughs the way Karkat laughs, a small heh he tries to hide but can’t, and his face lights up like a different person.  He drags you back to the dorm.

The lobby of your dorm is deserted and the wall piano looks lonely so you dig your heels in.

“What the fuck, John.”

“Hey,” you say. “I have a great idea.”

“Oh god,” Karkat groans and you dig your elbow into his side and he flinches away.

You run to the other side of the piano.

“Gimme a hand, Karkat!” you grin.

He eyes the piano.

“Where are you bringing that?” he asks warily.

“You’ll see!” you say, throwing your weight back. The piano drags and Karkat does a tiny growl at the noise. “C’mon, Karkat!”

“Dammit, John,” he says, but he goes and lifts the other side.

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By the time you got to the roof, you were panting and sweating but as soon as you got the piano out under the sky you gave a whoop and jogged a half circle to tackle hug Karkat.

He click-swears and takes a swipe at you but you dodge away.

“Hahah, I told you it would be great!” You say and the night air is nice on your skin. It’s summer so it’s cool without being cold.

Karkat’s breathing hard and the yellow-white light from the next two blocks shows the sheen of sweat on his face.

“Fuck you,” Karkat growls and stops talking to breathe.

“What songs do you like?” you ask, and lift the fall board. The keys are a little yellowed, like bone, only white against the darkness of everything else.

Karkat waves a hand and leans against the piano.

You start playing one of Karkat’s songs, or what you think you remember of Karkat’s songs. You remember it because it started pretty and pensive, then got some very emotional tones.  You don’t remember the words, and you probably mess up the tune a little, but you remember the feeling of it and it felt right. It felt blue and black like the sky above you, and the gentle breeze against your back.

Karkat props himself up with a hand on his cheek and an elbow on the piano. When you glance up at him he’s looking very seriously at your face instead of your hands and he grudgingly answers with a tiny smile when you grin at him.

“‘Sup Karkat?” you say when you can’t remember how the song ends.

“Don’t you need a chair?” he asks.

“Hm, that’d be nice. How about… that box!”

Karkat spins and looks where you’re pointing and frowns at you.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yeah, grab the box!”

He gets you the box and looks at you funny.

You sit but misjudge and yelp as the box collapses. Your legs go out and scrabble against the concrete and you slam into Karkat’s knees. He curses and grabs the piano and falls on top of you, elbow landing smack middle of your ribcage.

“Oww,” you wheeze.

Karkat clicks and slips his elbow off and searches your face, eyebrows scrunched together.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Good,” he says and grabs a fistful of your shirt over your belly and you shriek and knee him in the solar plexus and Karkat goes flop beside you.

“Karkat, are you okay!?” you ask, sitting up.

“Fuck you, Egbert,” he grunts and gives you a middle finger.

You laugh and flop down next to him.

“Yeah, you’re okay,” you say and Karkat makes a funny warble.

“This is why I hated you so much in the beginning,” he groans.

“You hated me?”

“In the beginning. For maybe two months before I despaired before your general barkbeast nature.”

You roll so you can see his face.

“Karkat, I need to know,” you say very seriously.

“What?” he asks, frowning.

“Do you still hate me?”

Karkat snorts and pushes you so you flop again.

“Obviously not, you dumb shit,” he said and that’s good. You don’t want Karkat to hate you, that’d be awful.

You lay on your back on the cool concrete, and above you the wooden underbelly of the piano cuts to where the lacquered black blends with the cloudy sky. There’s too much light pollution to see stars.

You wonder if Karkat can see the stars.

“Hey Karkat,” you say and he hmms. “Isn’t this kinda like camping?”

“I hate camping,” he says.

“Whyyy?” you give a scandalised gasp. “Camping is fun!”

“I hate it on principle. The concept is a terrible idea.”

“Aha! So you haven’t been camping!” you say with cartoon villain triumph. “We need to fix this!”

“No John, you do not need to subject Karkat to sleeping at the mercy of the elements when technology, civilisation and more importantly running water and thermostats exist.” 

“You should come to my house,” you decide, because Karkat is always a wet blanket and has to complain about everything even though he has fun. “I have this balcony thing and we could totally do the tent thing on it.”

“John, stop. Listen to me. That does not make the concept sound anything less than a terrible idea. In fact, it makes the entire exercise redundant.”

“But it would be fun.”

“I’ve heard these lies before. Remember the baby featherbeast video?”

“…bird video? What bird video?”

“The bird video. The video wherein an innocent, tiny, fluffy baby bird fucking bounces down a cliff of death. It is forever burned into my memory, John. It is burned into my memory because of the bulgewilting trauma of watching it, cheerfully inflicted by you.”

“Oh, the barnacle gosling. I’m sorry, but that was two years ago! How many times do you want me to say I’m sorry, sheesh… Oh.”

“I do not like that ‘oh’. I have learnt not to like that ‘oh’ from three and a half years of conditioning. What was that ‘oh’.”

“Speeeeaking of dead babies…”

“Oh god, what.”

“When you weren’t looking, I kinda tried your grubflakes. It wasn’t that bad, and that’s what scares me. It doesn’t taste like dead babies but it’s DEAD. BABIES. I mean, where do all these dead babies even come from!?”

“Alternia,” Karkat answers literally. He shifts and there’s a whisper of cotton on concrete. “Grubs don’t gain sentience until six perigees though. They’re just mindless killing automatons, and fucking millions get killed in the trials every sweep anyway. It’s more of a waste not to eat them actually.”

“That’s fucked uuuuuup.”

“That’s my culture, you insensitive fuckwit.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s still fucked up!”

“Duly noted, John. I will notify the Empress personally as soon as I get back and enter into Her glorious propaggrandisation team. Would you like me to croon a soulful melody and lead grubs into the streets like some demented Pupa Pan come to life while I’m at it?”

You break into hysterical laughter at the image of Karkat in green tights skipping into town and he thwacks you with the back of his hand.

“Shut up, John. It’s not that funny.”

“Yes it is! Like a Disney princess leading a flock of animals, except it’s like that movie you made me watch with the cartoon princess who turns into a real person in New York, so it’s like roaches, PFFT. You’re the Disney princess, Karkat. Specifically that Disney princess.” 

“No, I refuse.”

“No choice, buddy! Even from the first time we met, we were like, yeah, Karkat is the Disney princess! …Or a small dog. … Or… Paris Hilton?”

“It was Strider, wasn’t it. That was not a question. I will make him eat his fucking shades.”

“Don’t do that, it was funny. We wouldn’t be friends if it weren’t for that.”

“Really?” Karkat asks softly and then he swallows loudly. “I find that exceedingly difficult to believe given your introduction,” he said, and it’s a little crickety.

You snicker.

“Okay, we would still be friends but that pesterlog with Dave definitely helped.”

“I see,” Karkat says, and you both stare up at the bare shapes of grey clouds on blue black sky with no stars.

The breeze picks up a little and you breathe with it even as most of it goes over you. Where your skin is uncovered, you feel a chill.

You cross your arms over yourself.

“Hey,” you say. “What’s Alternia like?”

Karkat shifts.

“That’s a first in four fucking years,” he comments and you feel a little bad for not asking, but it never really came up before. “Why suddenly?” Karkat asks.

“I'm curious, that's all. Maybe I'll visit.”

“You can't.”

Karkat’s reply isn’t mean and isn’t sad but it’s clipped a little at the corners and simple. An inconvenient truth.

“What, why?”

Karkat sighs and there’s a low hum behind it.

“Getting around the intranet is a cullable offence, let’s not even contrive to think of smuggling in a human. You'd be eaten alive in approximately four seconds anyway.”

“What? What’s wrong with being human?”

“Someone doesn’t read the news.” Karkat’s voice is the same, scratchy amused-derisive it is when you can’t find the light switches.

“But- but why?!”

“Space constraints, the security of the oxygen dome, maybe the fact you have a political party intent on assassinating the Empress, oh I don't know John, why would trollkind deprive itself of your company.”

“We have a political party intent on what?” you repeat in horror.

There’s a silence and Karkat breaks it with a ‘pfft’. He knocks the back of his hand against your forearm and you let that arm fall to the floor with his. He lets his arm stay there, and your fingers just about make contact, but not quite.

It’s probably your imagination, but you think you can almost feel his warmth.  

“Read the fucking paper once in a while, dumbass,” Karkat says, but not in a mean way. Karkat’s too nice to be really mean.

“Sorry.” You mean for it to come out funny but it just ends up small. You clear your throat. Try again.

“When’s your flight?” you ask.

“Next week, Wednesday, two in the afternoon because I hate myself,” Karkat replies, like it’s a route phrase like ‘please take a queue number and have a seat’ or ‘how are you’.

It’s Friday.

“That’s pretty soon,” you say, not knowing what else to say. Your mind draws a blank.

“I have a job interview that I want to be there in person for,” he explains and you take a while to process that. Oh, that’s good right? Having a job, growing up, being busy. They’re meant to be good things.

You smile up at the sky and it takes a little more effort than usual. You’re kinda tired and floaty.

“That’s great, Karkat. Congrats.”

“Thanks,” Karkat says.

He doesn’t say what job, and you don’t remember if you talked after that.

.

.

===/\===

On Ao3. Part 1,  Part 2, Part 2 notes, Part 3, Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 (end)

What song did John play? 

TG: yeah that was the thing i was just asking you but hold on i might get divine inspiration any second now

EB: i can’t think of anything. EB: he was still okay yesterday and this morning. EB: ohhhh wait. EB: he’s freaking out a bit about your paper. EB: but still, “drinking” is kinda irresponsible.

TG: we dont have a paper

EB: wait, what? EB: but he kissed me this morning and said it was for his cross cultural research paper thing!   EB: also we watched a movie last night in my room and he cried but i fell asleep and stuff. EB: but that’s not the point. 

TG: jegus where do i even start with that john

EB: start on what, dave!

TG: excuse me i think i need to walk outside and find a literal palm tree to smash my face into

EB: knock it off.   EB: so a friendly bro planted one on me in the name on science. EB: i’m cool with that. EB: neither of us is gay.

TG: and the nile is just a river in egypt

EB: denial of WHAT.

TG: john TG: johnathon egbert TG: john my man my dudebro TG: karkat is fucking in love with you

EB: what? EB: no way!

TG: and while im at it let me just take this another notch up TG: put it all out on the table like a dealer in vegas TG: you like him back so thats why you get mopey and ask me where he is TG: sheesh its like im air flight control central and youre the guy with the delayed connecting due before you can leave TG: like when is the planekat coming back dave i need to know for non homosexual reasons

EB: you’re just imagining things, karkat and me are just bros.

TG: uhuh TG: and your movie dates?

EB: sheesh can’t two bros watch movies without being called gay? EB: i mean, he likes movies, i like movies. EB: it’s a good way to de-stress.

TG: i know another thing you guys could do to de-stress

EB: … did you just…

TG: eyup

EB: grossssss! EB: i would send an emoticon but pesterchum has nothing that fits. :(

TG: my one mission in life oh hella yeah go dave who da man you da man

EB: okay, besides all your totally wrong conjecture, is karkat going to be alright?

TG: i dont know all he does is hiss alternian at people today and cradle his sweets and a bottle of maple syrup like a sugar addicted dragon guarding its hoard

EB: let me know how he is?

TG: ye gotcha live update kat watch at your service

EB: thanks.

TG: np

--turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB]. –

.

.

--turntechGodhead [TG] started pestering ectoBiologist [EB]. –

TG: houston we have a problem 

EB: that was fast. EB: what happened? 

TG: the clownrail picked your boy up from class TG: kat watch is cancelled due to weather conditions being hella fuck off with a ninety five percent chance of murder

EB: hmm. EB: okay i guess i’ll message karkat directly.

TG: john wait

-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]. –

.

.

-- ectoBiologist [EB] started pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

EB: hey karkat you okay? EB: i heard from dave that you’re feeling down and stuff. EB: wanna watch a movie when you get back? EB: i know it’s saturday but hey, that means you’re okay after your makeup class right?

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] is an idle chum.—

EB: right, you’re probably still writing your paper. EB: sorry for disturbing. EB: hope you feel better soon, buddy.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] is online.—

EB: karkat! EB: heyy!

CG: sup brother CG: you are a brave motherfucker CG: SHOW ALL OUT HERE YOUR BOLD MOTHERFUCKING FUCK YOUR FACE

EB: uh, what?

CG: i say you break down on the side of the corner of my diamond break your motherfucking head CG: YOU GUESS HOW MOTHERFUCKER

EB: okay, i’m guessing you aren’t karkat so… EB: uh, gamzee?

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] is an idle chum.—

EB: okay. EB: if karkat’s with you, can you just tell him we hope he feels better soon?

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] is online.—

CG: WHAT THE FUCK, JOHN. CG: WHO THE FUCK IS ‘WE’. CG: ARE YOU USING ROYAL PRONOUNS NOW? CG: IN WHICH CASE, WHO THE FUCK DIED AND MADE YOU KING OF ANYTHING.

EB: hi karkat!! :D EB: is that a reference?

CG: NO. CG: I CG: GODDAMN IT IS.

EB: hehehehe EB: anyway, are you okay?

CG: YES. CG: I’M FINE. CG: IN FACT, I AM SO ‘OKAY’ THAT I COULD GET KNOCKED OUT AND IT WOULD DO A REACHAROUND TO COME BACK TO THIS PLANE OF CONSCIOUSNESS REVERSED.

EB: …? EB: uh, okay, that’s… good, i guess. EB: anyway, when are you getting home?

CG: …WHY.

EB: because it’s DEFINITELY my turn to pick a movie this time, haha.

CG: OH. CG: … I DON’T KNOW.

EB: mm, kay. EB: let me know?

CG: YEAH. OKAY. CG: THANKS.

EB: awesome! EB: see you. :D

-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

.

You wait at the kitchen table with your laptop that night, but fall asleep before Karkat gets back. When you wake up, his beat up grey sneakers aren’t there and the floor between his room and the bathroom is dry.

.

===/\===

.

-- ectoBiologist [EB] started pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

EB: hey karkat, do you have your keys with you? EB: i noticed you didn’t come back yesterday, and well, there are a set of keys on the table.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] is an idle chum.—

EB: yikes i need to leave now, but if you need the house key, well, you have my number. EB: see you!

-- ectoBiologist [EB] an idle chum.—

.

.

-- ectoBiologist [EB] started pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

EB: noticed you’re not back yet, so uh, don’t know if you got my last message. EB: it’s got the little blue ticks so i guess you did but maybe forgot? EB: haha, i totally get it, man, i forget to reply all the time. EB: proooobably not a thing to be proud of.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] is an idle chum.—

EB: idle still, huh. EB: anyway, if you need the keys, lemme know? EB: i’ll be in class, but prof mann is really cool. if you message me i should be able to pass my keys to you first if you need to get home. EB: just promise not to lock me out, okay? EB: heheh

-- ectoBiologist [EB] is an idle chum.—

.

.

-- ectoBiologist [EB] started pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

EB: hey buddy, you there? EB: i’m starting to get kinda worried. EB: like, you’re okay right? EB: i mean, dave said you didn’t go for classes today. EB: okay, so more like last night, but the point is, that’s not like you! EB: and you have a class part component to max out.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] is an idle chum.—

EB: plus it would be nice to hear that you’re okay. EB: get back to me soon? EB: i’ll leave my phone on and everything.

-- ectoBiologist [EB] is an idle chum.—

.

.

-- ectoBiologist [EB] started pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

EB: karkat i’m getting seriously worried here. EB: like i’m going to call you and probably wake you up and i’ll feel REALLY TERRIBLE about that but i think i’m still going to go ahead and do it anyway if you don’t reply soon. D:

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] is online.—

CG: KEEP YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, JOHN. CG: I’M FINE.

EB: KARKAT!!! EB: :D :D :D EB: oh man, am i glad to hear from you. EB: i was starting to think you were kidnapped or something. EB: … trollnapped? EB: mm that sounds kind of dumb. EB: but heyyyyyyyyyy!! :D

CG: OKAY, FIRST, YOU ARE NOT, NEVER HAVE BEEN, AND NEVER WILL BE MY HUMAN KEEPER. I AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF LOOKING AFTER MYSELF AND THIS MAY COME AS A SURPRISE, HOLD ONTO YOUR CARTILAGE NUB, BUT THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I DID BEFORE WHATEVER POWERS BE DECIDED HARDEEHARHAR LET’S THROW KARKAT AT THIS BLUE EYED HUMAN FUCKER AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS.   CG: SPOILER, MY ABILITY TO TAKE CARE OF MYSELF DID NOT MAGICALLY UP AND DISAPPEAR. CG: POSSIBLY ATTRIBUTABLE TO THE FACT THAT MAGIC ISN’T REAL. CG: BUT I DIGRESS. CG: SECOND. CG: ONE WOULD THINK, BEING AT THE TOP 99TH PERCENTILE OF ENTRANTS TO THIS ESTEEMED UNIVERSITY, YOU OF ALL PEOPLE WOULD *INFER* THAT I WAS AT MY MOIRAIL’S HIVE. CG: THE STUDIO AUDIENCE IS TORN BETWEEN LAUGHTER BECAUSE YOU MISSED THIS HIDEOUSLY OBVIOUS CONCLUSION, AND SCANDALISED GASPS AT SOMEONE REMAINING UNCONTACTABLE AT THEIR MOIRAIL’S HIVE FOR THREE DAYS. CG: HINT FOR THE CULTURALLY IMPAIRED FUCKASS, IT WAS *SCANDALOUSLY PALE*. CG: *THIRD*. CG: I WOULD LIKE TO POINT OUT THAT ITS REALLY FUCKING RUDE TO DEMAND MY ATTENTION LIKE A HUNGRY LUSUS THEN IMMEDIATELY GET DISTRACTED BY THE NEAREST SHINY OBJECT, ALSO RATHER LIKE A LUSUS. CG: THANKS A LOT FOR THAT, FUCKASS.

EB: what? EB: no, i’m here! EB: i was just thinking that you were on a roll and that it’s been a while since i saw one of your text rants, so i kinda let it grow.

CG: WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT. CG: DO YOU SECRETLY PUMP YOUR BULGE TO VERBAL ABUSE OR SOMETHING BECAUSE HOLY FUCK JOHN, IF THE ANSWER IS YES, I *DON’T WANT TO KNOW*.

EB: oh yeah, please shout at me some more mister vantas. EB: i’m swooning sooooo hard right now. EB: (heheheheh)

CG: YOU LITTLE *NOOKSUCKING SHITSTAIN*. CG: EVERY GODDAMN TIME YOU ATTEMPT TO “PRANK” SOMEONE, YOU PUT THAT DUMB LAUGH IN CURVED CONTAINMENT SYMBOLS AND FOR THE LAST FUCKING TIME, *I CAN SEE THOSE*.

EB: yeah, i know, but it’s funny so i have to laugh but i don’t want to laugh without the brackets because then it’s loud and kinda ruins the joke.   EB: so! EB: you coming home today buddy?

CG: I’LL THINK ABOUT IT.

EB: okay neat, i can make dinner for you too if you want? EB: well, my dinner, your breakfast ish meal? EB: c’mon, yeah? :D

CG: I SAID I’LL THINK ABOUT IT, OKAY? CG: JEGUSFUCK, JOHN.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] is offline.—

.

You leave the grubflakes, a bowl and a spoon on the table. You think about leaving a welcome back note, but you don’t.

The next morning, when you’re half falling over yourself to get your shoes on because you’re late as usual, you trip over very familiar grey sneakers. You take a moment to put them back as they were, then you haul ass to get to class.

.

That evening, Karkat leaves glistening green footprints on the floor as he scurries to the bathroom from his room.  He sits next to you as he crunches his way through breakfast before he leaves for class. 

You’re glad he’s back, but Karkat only looks at you sideways when your eyes are on your laptop, so you do the thing they taught you in that extra module on bedside manner, where you smile and think “everything’s okay” until you hope he gets it.

.

===/\===

.

Friday is cold, too cold to be at the table so bury yourself under your blankets and wear long sleeves and two pairs of socks and try to focus on your essay over your chattering teeth.

You hear the main door, and Karkat’s door, and you check the time in the bottom right corner of your screen and welp, you just spent four hours writing three paragraphs and dicking around on Facebook and pesterchum.  They weren’t even very long paragraphs.

The bathroom door shuts and the water runs.

You still really want to be friends with Karkat.

You get that Karkat needs space. You totally do! Everyone gets snappy sometimes. There was a time when you were fourteen and Rose didn’t talk to anyone for nearly a month, and you were cool with that.

It’s just… different with Karkat somehow, probably because you live with him and he’s always there. Even though you run on completely different schedules, it’s super obvious when he’s suddenly gone. Ther’s a Karkat shaped hole in the way everything’s exactly as you left it, and the end of the corridor where his room is.

The point is you don’t like it. You want things to go back to the way they were.

Today’s Friday.

.

-- ectoBiologist [EB] started pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

EB: hey karkat, you’re home! :D

CG: HOLY GRUBFUCKED HELL JOHN, WHY ARE YOU STILL AWAKE?

EB: i was doing an essay.

CG: I DIDN’T SEE YOU DOING AN ESSAY. CG: IMAGINE ME LOOKING AT YOU SUSPICIOUSLY.

EB: imagining it right now! EB: wow karkat, why do you have to look so suspicious, don’t you believe me? EB: i’m so hurt karkat, i am all the hurt. EB: but really i was doing an essay. EB: it was just cold so i made a pillow fort ON my bed. EB: it’s awesome and once you sit in it for a while it’s nice and warm. EB: not super conducive for work though, i hardly got anything done, haha.

CG: I WILL ACCORD THAT INFORMATION THE IMPORTANCE IT IS DUE, WHICH IS TO SAY I INTEND TO FORGET IT IMMEDIATELY AFTER CLOSING THIS WINDOW. CG: IS THERE A REASON YOU’RE HARASSING ME THE SECOND I STEP BACK INTO OUR SHARED HIVE? CG: IS THIS YOU INFORMING ME THAT I AM DUTY BOUND TO TAKE THE TRASH OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FREEZING, BULGEBITING NIGHT?

EB: nah buddy, i wouldn’t do that to you. EB: plus it’s my turn to take out the trash and it can wait til tomorrow when the sun is up so it’s less brrrrr.

CG: THEN BY ALL MEANS, PLEASE ENLIGHTEN ME AS TO THE REASON THIS CONVERSATION HAS TO BLAME FOR ITS SORRY EXISTENCE.

EB: right, do you wanna watch a movie today?

CG: I SUPPOSE I WOULD NOT BE COMPLETELY OPPOSED ON THE CONDITION THAT I GET TO CHOOSE WITHOUT A SINGLE HINT OF A COMPLAINT FROM THE EXPLOSIONS AND CARDBOARD CUTOUT CHARACTER DEPARTMENT.

EB: you’re in your room, right?

CG: WHERE THE FUCK ELSE WOULD I BE?

EB: okay, give me like two seconds!

CG: WHAT.

-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

.

.

You grab your laptop like a waiter tray, with your phone and your hard drive on top and basically take your pillow fort with you. The blankets drape over your shoulders like a cape and you take two pillows under your arm.

You get your door open, but the pillows slip when you quickly shuffle to Karkat’s room and all the door knobs are round.

You drag your forearm against the knob and slam the door open with your shoulder.

“OH MY FUCK—”

Something flies at you.

You dodge and grab for it, but the blanket slips off your shoulders and your phone and hard drive start sliding around. You slam your hand over your devices and hear the sharp smack and clatter of glass and circuitry hitting tile. “What was that?” you ask even as you turn to look.

“Fuck!” Karkat spits. His phone is face down on the floor.

“Oh,” you say. You turn back to the room—it’s too dark to see Karkat—and smile guiltily.

“Oops?” you offer meekly.

Karkat sighs heavily and there’s a hint of a rattle in it.

“Dammit, John,” he growls and you can tell from his voice that he’s facepalming.

"I’m sorry!” you say and you put your laptop down by the wall, hopping over the bunch of pillows and blankets to get to the phone. “Here, I’ll get it for you—uh oh.”

“What. The fuck. Was that ‘uh oh’ for,” Karkat asks. He still sounds like he has a hand on his face.

“Well,” you say. “Um. It looks like you’re going to need a new phone?”

You hold up the phone to show him and the screen literally falls off, exposing battery and processors and delicate circuits.

There’s a super heavy silence. You wince and smile at him.

“Fuck you up the wastechute, John Egbert,” Karkat says flatly.

“I’m sorryyyy,” you… okay so maybe you whine a bit but it’s like two in the morning and cold and Karkat threw the phone in the first place. Hey, that’s a good point. “But I can’t believe you threw your phone. That would have seriously hurt if it hit me!”

“What’s the rule on personal space?” Karkat demands.

“Room is off limits unless we get invited in or it’s an emergency, I know, I know. I just got really excited about movie night and I’m really sorry about your phone. I’ll split repairs or the new phone cost, or hey, I’ll just buy you a new phone? You can even use my spare phone in the meantime!”

“… stop making that face at me. Don’t you fucking dare use that face.”

You blink.

“What face?” you ask.

“Don’t bullshit me, John. We both know that you know that you are using the disgustingly cute face you are making right now to try and appeal to my non-existent better nature in a futile attempt to avoid the spew of rage that is building up in my gullet.”

“Karkat, that’s my normal face,” you say and then to prove the point you pull a face and he goes pfft.

“So I’ll get you the other phone and we’ll watch, kay?” you say and pop into your room. Karkat says something, but the tone of it is still amused so you don’t ask him to repeat himself. You pop out his SIM card and the SD card and transfer it to your spare phone, and hurry back. Your teeth are chattering again.

“Here, you know how to use Android?” you offer the phone to the darkness and Karkat appears.

“Probably better than you can,” he replies, and he takes the phone delicately, not letting his clawtips touch at all.

It’s cute. You grin.

“Okay, neat. What movie?” you ask, dipping to pick up the blankets and your laptop.

“The Notebook,” he says with half a defensive hunch.

“Okay,” you say, and he discretely guides you by the arm so you don’t trip over the edge pieces of his pile.

.

.

===/\===

CG: IT’S BEEN FOUR ENTIRE HOURS. CG: STRIDER VERIFIED. CG: CLASS IS *STILL* DRAGGING. CG: I AM *THIS CLOSE* TO STABBING MYSELF WITH A RULER SO THAT MY NOBLE FLESH WOUND CAN BUY ME A TRIP TO THE INFIRMARY, AND ALSO A TICKET OUT OF ‘BEAT THE DEAD SOCIAL JUSTICE HOOFBEAST UNTIL IT MIRACULOUSLY STANDS UP AND STARTS PRANCING AROUND AGAIN’ LAND. CG: I COULD HAVE FREEDOM FOR THE SMALL PRICE OF PAIN, BLOOD, AND ETERNAL SHAME. CG: AND BY ETERNAL I MEAN PROBABLY FOR THE TWO YEARS LEFT UNLESS GRADUATION OR LESS. CG: THE PROSPECT BECOMES MORE APPEALING WITH EVERY PASSING SECOND.

EB: haha, hang in there buddy. EB: if it makes you feel any better, i’m working on a research paper and it’s really painful too.

CG: WHY THE FUCK WOULD HEARING THAT YOU ARE MISERABLE MAKE ME ANY LESS MISERABLE.

EB: dunno, some sort of solidarity? EB: brothers in suffering, that kind of thing. EB: schadenfreude? EB: anyway, I guess I’ll see you when you get home.

CG: IF I EVER FUCKING GET HOME.

EB: pfft, no need to be so dramatic karkat. EB: okay, need to work on my paper.

CG: YEAH.

—ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]. –

.

.

Karkat isn’t back by the time your brain stopped processing words as meaning instead of black letters on your screen. You start the movie without him, and it opens with the hanging of three witches. Spooky stuff. So…

.

You wake to the door slamming and muffled cursing.

“S’at you, Karkat?” you ask. Gosh, when did you drift off? You’re going to have to start the movie again. It’s okay though, because Karkat hasn’t seen the beginning anyway. 

Karkat appears at your door.

“Fuck,” he says. It’s a reflex, you don’t think he notices he swears as much as he does. “Yeah, did I wake you up?”

“Mmm yeah, but I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you yawned and sat up in your bed. “What time is it?”

“Almost three am,” he frowns. “We ended at one. Fuck, I thought you’d be asleep already, so I ate with Gamzee.”

“S’okay. You wanna go shower and I’ll set up the movie?”

“Shouldn’t you sleep?” he asks, sceptically.

“Nah, I slept a little. Besides, there’s no school tomorrow. We’re good. Everything is good.” You give him a thumbs up and he makes his tiny ‘I AM GRUMPY KING I am trying not to smile oh no I can’t’ smile and shakes his head.

“Fine. If you’re sure.”

“I am sure, Karkat. I am all the sure.”

He rolls his eyes and you hear his room door and then the bathroom door and then water…

…

… and Karkat knocking on the drawer next to your bed.

“I’m awake,” you groan. He snorts.

“Yes John, you’re awake now, after I woke you up. If you’re going to sleep, you should unplug your laptop. You’re going to burn your bulge off.”

“What? No, since I’m awake, we should-” you yawn and the yellow of Karkat’s eyes gleam in the low light. “We should thing.”

“Right,” he says and he lifts your laptop up, holds it in one hand. “And you won’t fall off your chair while watching, assuming that you’re willing to walk to the table.”

Bluh, he’s right. Table was far. Floor was cold. You were soooo comfortable. Why was the bed so comfortable.

“We can watch here,” you suggest, shifting over to make space for him. “Problem solved. C’mon.”

Silence.

Karkat blinks down at you.

You pat the bed and look at him meaningfully. And sleepily.

“Are you serious?” he asks, like he’s expecting a whoopee cushion when he sits. Hey, that’s actually a good idea. A little bit mean to Karkat though. Karkat takes a lot of things waaaay too seriously.

“It’s kay,” you say, and you pull his shirt so his knees touch the bed. “Oh, you might want to grab my fan table thingy so you don’t, what, ‘burn your bulge off’. Heheheh.”

“John,” he starts but then he stops.

“Fan thingy,” you prompt. “Just stretch and grab it from next to my bag.”

He grips your laptop and the profile of his face is nervous.

“Hey,” you say, and he turns his face a little. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he says, and he grabs the fan thing. “But I categorically refuse to watch Niklas Kaydje horror with you if you’re just going to fall asleep.”

“I won’t fall asleep!” you protest. “Besides, it’s my turn to pick.”

“Yeah, no. That’s what you say but half an hour into this disaster, you’re going to be snoring like a beached whale with laryngitis.”

“Wow, rude,” you say, and you elbow him a little. “I don’t snore.”

 “You don’t know that because you’re asleep,” he shoots back. He holds out a hard drive. “I’m not going to suffer for nothing. And I so happen to have the cinematic masterpiece that is ‘The Vow’ with me right now. Serenfuckingdipity, John. You don’t fuck with serendipity.”

“Cheater,” you grumble. “You planned this!” 

“You can sleep instead,” Karkat replies.

“Noooo, it’s movie night. C’mon and lie down properly already. Cheater.” 

He settles carefully and sets up his movie.

Your bed is meant for one, but you’re both not very big guys and you fit just fine when your shoulders press into each other, and you fit even better with an arm around him.

Of course Karkat’s movie is a romcom with no action at all. Karkat grips your hand during the car crash and makes sad cricket noises a lot.

Karkat’s a cuddler, which is really unexpected, especially since he’s weird about hugs. He hugs you and looks at the screen from the corner of his eye.  You don’t really get why he likes these movies if they make him sad, but you’re okay with hugs. Hugs are nice and Karkat is super huggable, cause he’s just a tiny bit smaller than you, and compact and warm. 

You don’t remember the movie ending but you remember his four beat pulse under your palms when you hug him back, and thinking that it was rhythmic and soothing.

.

.

You wake up to early morning sunlight under your curtains and Karkat breathing on your collarbones, hand on your waist and leg half over yours.

“Hey Karkat buddy,” you say. You try to extract your arm and your torso but nope.

“Heyyy,” you say again, and pat him on the shoulder. “Karkat.” 

“Zhann,” he says without opening his eyes. His accent is really thick when he’s half asleep, and your name comes out all buzzy. He pats your chest then his hand comes up to thumb your jaw and scratch the back of your neck. He has claws, actual rip your skin off claws, pricking into the knots in your neck, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you that they exist. Tingles run down your spine, all over your skin. 

Karkat breathes something that’s all soft crickety noises, and your name. You don’t know what he’s saying but it’s quiet and heavy and fragile. Important.

He shifts and holds you tighter.

“Karkat?” you ask.

“Mmmnh?” he goes, and he breathes and his lips brush the side of where your neck joins your shoulders, gentle and fleeting.

You’re suddenly, devastatingly terrified.

“Hey Karkat, uh, your hair is tickling me so, yup. Anyway, it’s morning. Hi. Get up?”

Karkat doesn’t move, and for a second you think maybe he was still asleep, but then he shifts again. 

“Can I stay?” he asks.

His voice is so quiet and desperately hopeful. He’s not looking at you but his eyes are open now, and he’s staring straight at the slivers of light under the curtains. He’s tense, and he sounds like your answer is the only thing in the world that matters.

You couldn’t break that much gravitas even if you tried.

“Yeah,” you say.

.

===/\===

.

You eventually extract yourself from Karkat’s hug to run to the bathroom (cold floor coldfloorr coldfloor coldcoldcold) and get breakfast.

Very sadly, there is no more cereal. You only remember that when you open the cupboard and don’t find the box. Well, you were related to one of the biggest baking companies in the world, so you put on your metaphorical pants (because you were already in pj pants) and started whipping up pancake batter.

Karkat emerges from your room, squinting and trailing a hand along the walls.

“John?” he asks the kitchen.

“Hey!” you greet back.  “Want pancakes? I really hope you say yes because I already made you some. Maple syrup and butter are on the table.”

Karkat finds his way to the table and peers at the newspaper.

“You keep feeding me junk food. I’m going to get sick,” he says, but it’s just a token protest. Still, you wave your spatula at him in an offended manner.

“Excuse you, did you just call my pancakes junk? I’ll have you know they are delicious and nutritious.”

Karkat snorts and you break into laughter.

“Delude yourself whatever way you want, John.”

“It’s the truth! Look, butter is great. Maple syrup is also great. And I made the batter from scratch! You have to try it.” You cut a square piece off your own plate (you have the bad habit of eating while you cook) and cross the two steps to him.

“Say aah,” you instruct. 

Karkat’s eyes nearly cross to look at the little square of pancake on the end of the fork. He opens his mouth and takes the piece delicately.

“Well?” you ask as he chews.

“Good,” he says with great (and fake, you’re good at telling now) reluctance and you grin. 

“Great! Here, this plate is for you, help yourself to the maple syrup and butter.” 

You hand a plate to Karkat and he takes it. He looks down at it, places it on the table, then looks you in the eyes. His expression is solemn and gentle like you’ve never seen before. You think this isn’t too bad a look on him, even thought it would be even nicer if he smiled more, and Karkat leans forward and brushes his lips against yours.

He tastes of butter and syrup, and the edges of his teeth press against your lips.

Karkat is so close his nose touches yours, and his lips are soft and cool and a little stickysweet and you—

can’t—

breathe—

can’t think—

Karkat’s eyes open and he pulls back. Your heart is racing and you feel a little dizzy.

He’s watching you with a careful eye, the softness melting into suspicion with every passing second. You crack a smile, but your mind is whirling colour and numbness.

“Okay,” you say. “Wow, haha, I… was not expecting that.”

Karkat doesn’t say anything, he just watches you and his eyes become sharper, harder.

“Well,” you carry on, taking half a step back and half a turn away. “This is awkward. But, uh, jeez. Okay, so, I don’t know if I told you before, but I’m not a—”

“Homosexual,” Karkat finishes for you, with a hard click to the word. He draws back and swallows, breathes. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Um well, yeah,” you add lamely. “Right, trolls don’t have that right? I could, I don’t know, explain if you want?”

“No need.”

Karkat takes half a step back away too, turns a little away.

You touch his shoulder.

“Hey,” you say and make a small smile. “We’re cool, right?”

He looks down at your hand and the hardness in his expression snaps away suddenly and he gives you the smallest smile back.

“What the fuck kind of question is that, John?” he says and you’re so relieved.

“Okay, that’s good,” you say. “But like, for future reference, bros don’t kiss bros in human culture, kay? Especially not suddenly like that. It’s kinda not cool, you could get into trouble for harassment and stuff.”

“Sorry,” he says, and he curls his fingers over the back of the chair. “Note taken, and my shitastic word it won’t happen again.”

He sounds really distracted and you frown.

“Karkat, seriously though. I don’t want you to get into trouble just because of some cultural differences or anything. You could go to jail.”

He tosses his head.

“I understand intimately and painfully, alright, John?” he snaps. “Thank you for your concern. Yes, why don’t we just attribute this mass locomotive transport vehicle wreck to “some cultural differences”. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a thesis on this very topic to write. It will be long and have enough exposition to perforate a lusus gallbladder and make said lusus cry a goddamn river.”

Karkat’s back to grumpy, and though it’s not what you like seeing from your buddy, grumpy is normal and you relax.

“Well, if it’s for your research paper, you could have asked,” you suggest. His eyes scrunch tight and he shakes his head sharply. 

“Thank you for that offer,” Karkat says lowly, his accent coming in to contort the syllables and truncate the vowels. “Your selfless contribution to the frontier of human-troll interspecies interactions is so. Fucking. Appreciated.”

His hands hover over the pancakes you made for him, and he snags the plate, the entire bottle of maple syrup, and a butter knife.

He takes a step away from the table, hesitates and turns. The light from the window on the far end catches the gentle curve of his cheek and horns. He looks you in the eyes with his hands full and his expression is somewhere between accusatory and broken.

“I’ll be in my room,” he says. “Thanks for the pancakes.”

.

===/\===

On Ao3. Part 1,  Part 2, Part 2 notes, Part 3, Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 (end)

CG: john honey y u deny our relationship i am so sad CG: also karkles is getting you your caramel mocha thing so i grabbed his phone

EB: hey dave! EB: did he lose a bet or something?

CG: surprisingly no CG: mentioned you love the stuff and he started making funny faces CG: he said you havent seen light of day for like two weeks now CG: think you got him worried bro

EB: has it really been two weeks already? EB: urgh i haven’t been keeping track of time.

CG: havent been answering my texts either CG: but answering tokyo mewmews CG: i see so thats where we stand john CG: heads up you can expect the divorce papers any day now

EB: haha yeah gotta study hard and get a good job. EB: i know it’s hard on you but think of the children!

CG: the children miss you john CG: the children need their father CG: whens the paper

EB: next week, saturday.

CG: good luck

EB: thanks. EB: i should get back to studying, bluh.

CG: YES, AS OPPOSED TO FLOODING MY MOBILE COMMUNICATION DEVICE WITH INANITY DURING THE INTERVAL IN WHICH I PURCHASED THIS UNHOLY UNION OF CAFFEINE AND SUGAR.

EB: pfft, okay. EB: thanks karkat, see you soon.

--ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]. –

.

.

-- ectoBiologist [EB] started pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

EB: hey karkat, is the kfc for me or…?

CG: JESUSFUCK JOHN, CAN’T YOU FUCKING READ? CG: OR DID I WASTE ONE SIXHUNDRETH OF A TREE CARCASS LEAVING A GODDAMN NOTE FOR YOU.

EB: note? EB: oh, i see it now. EB: it fell off the table. EB: awww, nice note, thanks buddy. :)

CG: YOU’RE WELCOME, DUMBASS. CG: ALSO, YOU COULD ACTUALLY TALK TO ME NEXT TIME INSTEAD OF TEXTING. CG: SEEING HOW I’M ABOUT A GRAND TOTAL OF TWENTY FUCKING STEPS AWAY.

EB: wait, you’re home???

CG: NICE OF YOU TO NOTICE. CG: YOU SAID ‘HEY KARKAT’ WHEN I GOT BACK. CG: WE HAD A CONVERSATION REVOLVING AROUND THE TOPIC OF ‘HOLY GRUBFUCKING HELL, HAVE YOU EATEN OR SLEPT IN THE LAST THREE DAYS’.

EB: we did?????? EB: gah, might be time to sleep then.

CG: NO SHIT. CG: YOU’RE GOING TO WORK YOURSELF TILL YOU CONTRACT SOME DISEASE OTHERWISE.

EB: woah, don’t say stuff like that! EB: it’s bad luck and my paper is like in four days.

CG: EAT THE DAMN CLUCKBEAST AND HIT THE SOPOR, FUCKASS.

EB: already on it, haha. EB: wow, i did not realise i was this hungry. EB: or that it was this late. EB: this chicken is really good. EB: thanks karkat.

CG: YOU’RE WELCOME.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG]ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB]. –

.

.

-- ectoBiologist [EB] started pestering turntechGodhead [TG].—

EB: emergency. EB: he’s being nice, help.

TG: what the fuck john i nearly had a heart attack

EB: hey, don’t blame me! EB: you’re the one who thought it would be funny to put a police siren as your message alert tone.

TG: yeah past me is a dick lets move on TG: shit its too early for this

EB: it’s noon?

TG: im running on the same sleep schedule as karkles remember TG: noon is to me what four in the fucking am is to you TG: and apparently four in the fucking am is a good time to text your friend on how nice your roommate is TG: not that its not okay but just gogdammit john couldnt it wait a couple of hours

EB: oh man, i totally forgot, sorry! EB: i’ll text you at about six then?

TG: nah its kay im already awake might as well get the down and dirty TG: sup eggbutt my brodude TG: is karkles suddenly sprouting a backdrop of shojo manga flowers or some shit TG: has the sleep deprivation gotten you yet TG: am i gonna find first class front row tickets to an interspecies bl in my inbox TG: because if the answer is yes then congrats keep those tickets to yourself and mind the teeth goodnight

EB: what???? EB: i’m not sure if it’s me or you, but i didn’t understand any of that. EB: i guess we’re both sleep deprived haha.

TG: ye TG: so what happened with the resident nubbymcshouty

EB: so it’s really weird how nice karkat’s been lately. EB: at first i thought it might be because he felt bad about scratching me. EB: but it’s been nearly three weeks. EB: and like today he went to help me buy lunch. EB: as in he woke up and showered and went out to buy food and came back and watched me eat then went back to sleep. EB: it’s weird right??? EB: he used to throw my food out and mix bugs in it and stuff! EB: did i scare him or something? EB: i got a little mad but i don’t think it should have scared him into being this nice to me. EB: especially not from three weeks ago.

TG: its less scared than holy shit john is a sad lil fucker when hes a zombie

EB: urghhh okay i know i look terrible. EB: i haven’t actually slept in my own bed the last two nights because I fell asleep at the table. EB: or on the floor. EB: actually, i think he tripped over me last week. EB: alternian swearing is really funny, he sounded like a grasshopper and a gecko fighting a pair of castanets in a tree.

TG: pfft

EB: so yeah, it’s just that he did a one eighty and it’s just really weirding me out. EB: i was thinking about just letting him know we’re chill, but that’s really awkward out of the blue.

TG: nothing to worry about TG: just get more sleep before your exams

EB: i have a really bad feeling about this paper too, bluh. EB: this sem just completely bulldozed me.

TG: mm

EB: haha, you sound barely awake. EB: i’ll let you go back to sleep. EB: talk to you later.

TG: k

-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG].—

.

===/\===

.

tentacleTherapist [TT] opened a memo on board Public service announcement.

TT invited ectoBiologist [EB] to memo. TT invited turntechGodhead [TG] to memo. TT invited gardenGnostic [GG] to memo.

TT: Hello all. TT: A gentle reminder that results are out today. TT: Also, a reminder that you are all invited to Kanaya’s and my dorm for dinner tonight, in presumptive optimism regarding abovementioned results, and for commiseration if otherwise.

GG: thanks rose!!

EB: yeah, thanks rose! EB: oh man, i am so not prepared to see results for this sem.

TT: I have every confidence that you will do well, as you do every other semester, John.

TG: dammit rose id just managed to forget how could you do this to me i thought you loved me i thought we had something

TT: Alas Dave, I could not bring myself to impeach on your transcendental homoerotic broship with John.

EB: woah, woah, where did that come from?

TG: yeah im only the mistress his waifu is crabmeow TG: i is so sad

TT: What a shame. TT: However, I believe that neither of us is qualified to deny the appeal of interspecies relationships.

TG: true story

GG: oh??? GG: does that mean what I think it does? :)

EB: yeah, what’s this, what’s this? 

TT: I had intended to save the news for after dinner, but I suppose there is no harm in telling you now. TT: However, I request that you all conduct yourselves with appropriate demeanour of surprise and approval upon my repeat announcement tonight. TT: I also request for you to keep this information private, as we are not quite ready to expose our relationship to the masses just yet. TT: Kanaya and I are going out, in the romantic sense of the phrase.

GG: oh wow!!! GG: that’s so great, rose! GG: congratulations! :)

EB: congrats rose!

TG: called it

TT: And of course, I called you out on your own soirees, dear brother.

TG: yeah

GG: alright fess up dave!

TG: so im seeing terezi TG: shes a p cool troll chick whos doing law TG: fucking brilliant and also batshit crazy TG: yeah

EB: wow, when were you going to tell us?

TG: it was exams bro TG: was trying that being considerate shtick

TT: Ah, but our examinations ended a good two weeks ago or more.

TG: mine ended only ten days ago kay not all of us take pure lit

TT: My apologies. TT: So you only neglected to tell us that you have been dating for three months over the last ten days.

EB: THREE MONTHS?

GG: three months!!!!!???????? GG: that is super long!

EB: that is waaaaaaay before exams started, man.

TG: jesus christ rose announce my entire fucking life why dont you

TT: That is my sole mission Dave, and i endeavour to do it to the best of my capabilities.

TG: okay TG: so like TG: yeah weve been a thing for a while TG: but it was never a super concrete thing yknow TG: its just hey shes cool and we hung out a lot TG: and people were saying we were dating and we lol at them TG: then she says why not TG: and im like well fuck i cant think of why not TG: then she swept me off her feet with her shitty obsession with the colour red and her slaughter lawyer wiles TG: but it was a gradual thing at the same time TG: fuck this is not making sense it made sense when it happened i swear

EB: suuuuure it did.

TG: dammit john youre supposed to be supportive in this relationship

EB: i’m supportive! EB: i’m really happy for you!

TG: yeah thanks

GG: yeah dave, congrats!

TG: thx

TT: Alright, now, with those pleasantries out of the way, shall we adjourn to check our results? TT: Additionally, we have yet to prepare dinner, so I should probably start on that promptly.

GG: right! GG: see you all later!

GG ceased responding to memo.

TG: yeah gonna do that thing TG: casually ollie the fuck out of this friendly interrogation

TG ceased responding to memo.

EB: yup, bye rose!

EB ceased responding to memo.

.

.

Wow, your friends are all getting together with troll girls. You feel so proud of them. All like, yeah, my friend is totally awesome and I’m glad you recognise how amazing they are!

Huh, so maybe this is what Dad is always getting at when he asks you if you have a girlfriend yet.

Heh, what if you got together with a troll girl? Man, people would stare. Your neighbourhood didn’t have a lot of trolls. Or any trolls, really.

You suppose that’s why Karkat had major problems with you when you first started sharing a flat.

In hindsight, there were moments you were kind of a huge asshole. Like the bucket on door thing. And the lights thing. And the startle-thing.

In your defence, you used to find it really funny when Karkat ended up on the ceiling all fluffy and clicky-swearing at you. He’s gets so creative it never gets old.

Still, kind of assholish. Especially since Karkat’s been so nice. You feel kind of bad about it.

You log into the school portal and enter your name and ID. Student record, student record.

Loading.

Yup, so these were your grades and... 

Oh.

…

Shit.

.

The door clicks open. You minimise the window and smile weakly over your shoulder.

Karkat shuffles out in a towel, hair plastered down with green goop. He grumbles something and looks toward the window. His words are lost in the whisper of rain just starting up. 

“Hey,” you manage.

“Nnnrh,” he grunts and he halfheartedly flips you off as he trails slime to the bathroom.

The door slams and you hear water.

You open the page again. Refresh.

You open an excel page, to plug in the values.

You check the functions twice.

…

Hahaha, you’re so fucked.

You fucked up.

But

where.

Where did you fuck up? How did it go wrong?

You tried.

You tried really hard.

.

The bathroom door snaps shut and Karkat takes the chair next to you and melts onto the table, eyes closed and cheek pressed to the surface.

“So fucking tired,” he grumbles.

You force a smile.

“Then why are you awake? It’s like, two.”

“The nookfondling pisssack I call my best friend called to very snidely inform me that he’d post my grades on the school website if I didn’t wake up and check them for myself.”

“What a fricking asshole,” you say, and it came out with more venom than you intended.

Karkat cracks an eye open.

“You alright?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you respond.

His gaze flickers to your laptop and you snap it shut.

“Really,” he says flatly.

“Yes,” you bite out, and you regret it immediately when Karkat’s eyebrows shoot up. “Sorry. Maybe not all alright, but still okay enough. Bluh.”

“Grades?” he asks.

“Mm.”

“Can I see?”

You open your laptop and shove it vaguely in his direction. He drags himself up and squints to read. His pupils contract against the white of the screen.

“Yeah,” you say to break the silence.

“Aren’t these good?” Karkat asks, confused, and suddenly, you’re unbelievably annoyed because that’s not—

“Yes! No! No, not in med! I –arghhhh!” 

Karkat’s eyebrows go up even further.

“Breathe, fuckass,” he says.

“Don’t fucking refer to me with a swear word!” you snarl and you’re this close to socking him

It’s terrible. You know it’s terrible, somewhere in the back of your mind, but you’re so mad and you don’t know at what and he’s really not helping.

You feel like trash. The kind of trash that isn’t funny like the way Dave uses the word. You feel like the kind of trash that takes out their failure on their friends.

Like you’re doing right now.

Karkat blinks and he has his hands up, palms toward you, between you, like he’s surrendering except he’s concerned you’d punch him.

You actually might and you hate it.

Karkat leans back and he looks at you with surprise and you can’t look at him.

“Right,” he says, lost. “John.”

“Karkat.” You respond snidely. It’s a dick move and you know Karkat’s being nice, but you want to shout and kick things and throw your notes through a shredder. You need to punch a wall or do something but it’s not like you’re twelve anymore so you don’t. Instead you sit there and be an asshat to your really awesome roommate.

You know and you can’t stop yourself so that just makes it worse.

Ugh ugh ugh ugh ughhhhhhh.

“Right,” Karkat says again and this time it’s vaguely businesslike. “So, concisely, what’s the problem?”

“My frikking grades,” you groan through your teeth and you bury your face in your hands.

“Your lowest grade is a B minus, John.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“It’s not the end of the world.”

“I know.”

“Your GPA is still ridiculously high compared to the rest of us.”

“I know, Karkat, that’s not the problem. None of that is the problem!”

“You just said ‘my frikking grades’, square containment symbol ‘are the problem’ close square containment symbol.”

You kick away from the table. The chair drags loudly across tile and Karkat winces, baring teeth at the volume.

“I fucked up, okay?” you announce. You still can’t look at him without feeling bad at the faces he’s making. He’s worried for you, his expressions are so easy they hurt. “I shouldn’t be getting Bs, I don’t get Bs, and I don’t know! I don’t know.”

“Bs are good, John.”

He’s not listening.

“It’s different, we’re different, B is below average, who the fuck even gets Bs, this sucks.”

“It’ll be alright,” Karkat says, and his hands are still between you, but slightly out to the sides now, a little more open and a little less defensive. “You have the entirety of four years to pull up your cap.”

You bury your face in your hands. Your glasses get in the way. You pull them off with one hand and throw them on the table.

“Oh my god, I need to drag my cap back up and oh god I have to tell Dad, he’s going to text and ask and fuck my life. Why.”

You hear Karkat straighten and lean forward a little. You hear the wind hurtling rain through the dorms.

You feel like you’re made of sparks and about to burn, but you’re cold.

The air is so cold and the apartment is dark.

“Will he be pissed off?” Karkat asks very seriously, like Dad would ever—

“No!” You drag your hands up your face and through your hair. “No! He’s going to look at his phone, go really quiet thinking about it, nod and type back, ‘son I’m proud of you as long as you tried your best’. But inside he’d have been expecting better! It’s just—just— rnghhhhhhhhh!”

Karkat shifts.

“I see the exact opposite of a problem here,” he says slowly.

“No, no,” you say and you drag your hands over your face and through your hair again. “You’re not getting it, Karkat. I could get literal Fs and he would still say the same thing.”

He rests back of one hand on the table inside your field of vision.

Rod photoreceptors don’t pick up colour. It’s dark enough that everything is almost grey, and all the edges are blurry too because your degree is ridiculously high. The edges of Karkat’s hand merge into the table.

“That’s okay,” he says slowly, firmly.

It gets colder. You feel small.

You grip his hand like you’re arm-wrestling but you’ve already won.

He’s warm.

“It’s not okay,” you say. “Don’t okay me, I could get literal Fs, F for massive failure and he would still. Say. The same. Thing. He won’t get mad, he’ll be disappointed, and then he’ll try not to be. I wish he’d get mad. I’m mad. This sucks.”

Karkat takes in a long breath through his teeth.

“Alright, this is the point where I’m going to stop trying to understand. John,” he says on the exhale, and he pulls you to face him. “Do you need a hug.”

(The first time you tried to give Karkat a friendly brohug, you got head butted in the solar plexus and a rant on personal space and how trolls are naturally violent and thus need more.)

You smile at him. It takes actual effort because your face keeps twitching a frown into place.

“Personal space?” you try to joke.

“I’ll live,” Karkat says drolly.

Karkat’s so nice, all the nice, you don’t deserve this much nice. Your heart swells but it’s cold and tingles cold on the back of your shoulders and your arms.

You launch yourself at him, and he nearly falls out of his chair and there’s this awkward scuttling of legs and yelping. You both stay standing only by a miracle. He’s warm even through his long sleeve shirt and his wet hair prickles against your face and ear.

Karkat’s hug starts off really terrible. He’s tense like a cardboard cutout and you feel a little bad, but then he slowly relaxes and sinks into the hug too. He’s just a bit shorter than you and he turns his face into you, so his cheekbone flattens your ear. 

Karkat’s arms settle around you.

Out the window everything is white, and loud like sand—not the pitter-patter of kindergarten movies but sha-sha-sha, the torrential downpour of Chinese legend.

The apartment feels like another place, somewhere strange and distant and lonely. Except you have Karkat, who’s patting your back and making halting clicking noises and hugging you tighter every time he realises his grip is slipping.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you think it’s going to flood for sure.

.

.

Karkat shifts his shoulder a little and you realise resting your chin there couldn’t be comfortable for him.

“Sorry,” you mumble and pull away a little.

“It’s fine,” Karkat says gruffly. He ruffles your hair and pulls you back.

You let him, and hug him tight once more, then let go.

“Sorry,” you say again. “I’m okay. Thanks.”

You stand apart, but he holds you at an arm’s length, hands on your waist and eyes searching your face.

“Okay,” he says. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You are going to sit here, and not move. That shouldn’t be too hard. Don’t fucking move and I mean it, I will know.”

He looks so serious about it, it’s hilarious. 

You snicker and he makes this face like he doesn’t know whether to get mad or to be relieved.

“This is the plan, so listen up. I am going to get ice cream and make coffee, and then we are going to watch your dumb shit Niklas Kaydje movie for the hundred millionth time and you will be fine, got it fuckass—… John. Fuck, sorry. John.”

“We don’t have ice cream.”

“We will in forty minutes.”

“You’re going to buy ice cream now?”

“That’s what I just implied, yes.”

“It’s raining.” (A generous understatement.)

"So I’ll bring a water resistant protective covering.”

You want to protest but he pats you on the arm and well, ice cream would be nice.

“Thanks,” you say.

He nods.

“Sit here and watch meowbeast videos or something,” he says like it’s a war mission and you laugh.

You don’t watch cat videos, but you listen to the Piano Guys and read through the daily devotions your Dad sends you but you usually only glance at.

He comes back with four pints of Ben and Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk, and he only starts taking jibes at Nic Cage forty five minutes into Con Air.

(You can’t thank God enough for him.)

.

===/\===