[Yeah, no, a shake of the head on its own isn't going to convince Karkat that he's not breaching some major boundary here. What Dave does and says next is, and holy fuck if his bloodpusher weren't already bursting with pale affection, all this stammering and fumbling would just. Argh. It's a good thing his hand is already on Dave's face, that's all he's saying.]

Shoosh. Idiot.

[There's no reprimand in his tone, just warmth and teasing; it's a "god, I adore you even when you babble like a moron," not a "shut up." He needs the input anyway, needs to know that Dave is here with him and on board with everything he's doing. How do humans cope without a pale quadrant, anyway? If no one had ever looked at him like that, then he...

The fingers resting against Dave's cheek twitch a little, but Karkat says nothing as he shifts closer, maintaining the skin-to-skin contact as much as he can. He doubts he'll be getting that hand free any time soon, but he's curiously accepting of that. At least Dave had stopped hiding from him.]

I'm glad you like the blanket.

[Conversation is normal, right? And, he hopes, enough to keep Dave from getting overwhelmed as Karkat lifts his other hand and gently brushes blond bangs aside before going to cradle his other cheek. His hair is still messy from earlier, disheveled by how he'd pushed up his shades and made his impromptu tent, but Karkat isn't at a convenient enough angle to fix it for him. Maybe later.]

It might get too warm later, but you're used to lava and shit, right? Just make sure one of our Pokémon don't steal it from you.

[Not that he's naming names or anything, Sharru. It's a general statement.

He tucks a wayward strand of hair behind Dave's ear and favors him with a small smile.]

Still okay?