route_1065 | Taking it slow, but it's not typical

Entry tags:

Taking it slow, but it's not typical

Who: Dave Strider

callbacks and all y'all's lovely faces!
Where: Goldenrod City
When: Throughout the month of March
Summary: Come bug Dave at his part-time gig at the nice combination café/bookstore. OR, if we have plans (or you'd like to make plans; hit me up at

asherdashery, it's public) I can write up a starter just for you!
Rating: Probably nothing over PG-13.
Log:

[Food service is...well, it's everything movies told him it would be. But as far as workplaces go, the café isn't half-bad. The bookshelves make everything seem quiet even during busy hours, and the comforting scent of paper and coffee fills the space. Dave actually kind of looks forward to his shifts there.

The best part, though, is making the latte art. It took him a while to get the hang of it, because it's got to do with as much science and math as it does art, but Dave is nothing if not a master of timing. Most customers will get a heart, leaf, or tulip, but at slower times of day, he might experiment with drawing a little more.

(He has, of course, also figured out how to draw a dick in your latte. But that's neither here nor there.)

He's a quiet, friendly server, and as long as it's not caffeine crunch time, feel free to request your favorite Pokémon. Or if you're the only one there on a slow day, just wait--he might surprise you.]

((OOC: So! Since this log is open all month, please give me the date you want our thread to go down. I'll also be updating a thread tracker of sorts below so it'll be easier for all of us to find the right thread. Threads do not have to take place in the café! I just provided that as a starter for people who just want to chill with Dave. I'm gonna be throwing a bunch of non-coffee-related starters in here, too.))

NAVIGATION
March 4 - Carolina and Karkat, lunch
March 7 - Kaneki, café | March 8 - Maka, café; Chihiro, café | March 9 - Naoya, Honeyed Souls | March 11 - Jimmy Two-Shoes, text-->action
March 13 Banjou, café | March 14 - Karkat, pale confession

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[—Okay, yes, Karkat may be somewhat distracted as Dave rattles off something about masculine blah blah Cool Guy because there is a hand in his hair and it's too wonderful for words. Everything about the moment is, although if he's honest, the petting isn't nearly as important as the fact that it shows Dave's growing comfort with this closeness and physical contact in particular. It's still pretty great in general, though. He may be leaning into it, even, if in a very restrained and not pushy or demanding sort of way.

Argh, what were they talking about again.]

That's stupid. Your species is stupid.

[See, he was totally paying attention. All right, no, he'll make more of an effort.]

We had something like that, too, I guess. I used to give Tavros a lot of shit for "playing games for girls."

[Once when his friend had been at the bottom of a cliff and trying to tell him that he'd been paralyzed, not that Karkat still beats himself up over that anymore or anything.]

And Vriska made fun of me for watching romcoms, sort of like you do. She was more of a bitch about it, though.

My understanding's that Vriska was more of a bitch about everything than any creature on any planet that's ever supported life, probably.

[Wow. He's never seen Karkat so chill, or so...like, pleased. That's more than enough incentive to keep going, combing his fingers back from Karkat's hairline through the spot where his horns should be, fingerpads rubbing across his scalp, slow and rhythmic.

He watches Karkat's face as he does. Imagines how it'd look with his proper coloring, with his teeth. Watches for signs of the grief he's always known was there, that lay over that whole damn meteor.]

Tavros and Vriska. [They're familiar names, Vriska in particular, but still. Dave never knew them. He keeps running his hand through Karkat's hair, cups his jaw for a warm, fleeting moment before moving up again.] Wanna talk about them?

Edited 2016-03-19 23:03 (UTC)

[The assessment of Vriska gets a small snort, but he's in no state to follow it up with sarcasm or other cutting remarks with Dave massaging his scalp like that. He's brought out of it a little when the touch trails over his absent horns because it's still fucking weird to feel anything there at all, but it's a momentary lapse, not worth noting.

The hand on his jaw is expertly timed, too; Karkat is already melting but not so much that that question wouldn't have made him start to freeze up again. As things are... that was basically a pap, right? Or close enough? Fuck it, he doesn't care, he's going to say it counts.

And... right. That question.]

... I've been thinking about them a lot lately. All of them.

[Tavros and Vriska. Nepeta and Equius. Feferi, and even Eridan. He doesn't say the names, but he's responding, at least. He isn't shutting Dave out.]

And talking about them. With Ashley, mostly, because it's easier to just... use them as examples.

[There's a brief pause, and he covers the pair of still-linked hands with the only one left he has available. Dave had better not fucking stop touching him; he's not sure he'll get through this without that unspoken support.]

But then we started talking more about them as people, and I don't know how I'm supposed to deal with that.

[At least before, he'd been able to wait for a dream bubble or go to sleep and maybe get a chance to see one of them or their doppelgangers, but here, on this world, that option didn't exist. They're all gone and yet he feels closer to them than ever, what the fuck even is that? They're not even all from his timeline, so why?]

I'm being stupid, right? It's been three years.

[Dave doesn't stop touching him. The movement shifts, stroking Karkat's hair back from his temple towards the shell of his ear, softly, over and over. It's not like it stays where he puts it, but that's hardly the point. Dave's voice is low.]

Shit doesn't have to be recent to fuck you up, bro. There's no statute of limitations on junk like this.

[He pauses, fingers above Karkat's ear, then pulls his hand away, but only for a second. Awkwardly, Dave pulls the blanket out from where it's wadded under his head, shakes it open again, and drapes it over both of them, Karkat first, then him. He tugs it up fussily over Karkat's shoulder, making sure he's properly covered before he smooths the hair back from Karkat's forehead again.]

It's not stupid. You're not stupid. You...you never got a chance to talk about it before, right?

[None of them were available. None of them had the capacity to be. And none of them took anyone else up on it, had they had the opportunity. Not Rose, not Terezi, not Dave, not Karkat. Maybe Kanaya, but who was there for her? Who was there for any of them?

(Besides the Mayor. The Mayor is awesome, and an exception to every shittiness rule.)

Dave's hand moves down. He brushes his thumb over the rise of Karkat's cheekbone, follows the curve of his cheek with his other fingers. Just lets his hand rest there, warm, framing Karkat's face.]

Even if you did, you wouldn't have to be over it. ...I'm not.

[He waits. He's patient. Karkat can throw whatever at him, he won't go anywhere.]

[What the fuck is a statute of limitations. Karkat doesn't ask, but his "what human bullshit is this" frown is in full effect—or maybe half effect, but enough to be recognizable. The context likely isn't necessary (it rarely is, with Dave), but he'll... bring it up later, assuming he remembers.

For now, he's more focused on drawing what comfort he can from Dave's presence, which as before is a whole fucking lot. How the hell this human could ever have though he wouldn't cut it as a moirail is beyond him; Karkat's personal standards are warped, but he's devoured enough romantic media to recognize when someone knows what they're doing, all right? And Dave is good at this.

Karkat is fairly certain he's smiled more times in this conversation than any other, but oh look, here it is happening again as Dave spreads the blanket over the two of them and returns his hand to Karkat's hair. Is it possible to sprain face muscles, this is getting fucking ridiculous. If their conversation had been about literally anything else...

The smile drops again. Right. That.

He redirects his gaze toward their joined hands and, remembering the way Dave had touched him, runs his fingers lightly over his moirail's knuckles. It's much easier to see the tracery of blue veins underneath Dave's paler skin, and intrigued, Karkat tugs the hand closer. He will talk, he just needs a fucking distraction.]

You have to tell me, too. Even if you did ask first.

[It would have sounded sullen if Dave had asked him sooner, before he'd gotten him so completely calm. Now it's merely accepting.]

... I don't know where to start.

[Dave's eyes flick down for an instant, because it's going to be a while before he ever really wants to unload his crap. But he nods. Cradles the back of Karkat's head, works his fingers deep into where the hair is thick, under the base of his skull, scritches slowly and gently. He gets it. Fair's fair.]

You can talk about what happened, if you want.

[But Dave doesn't think that's it, not really. Besides, they both already know what happened. He's seen some of the bodies.

He shifts his head a little, getting more comfortable, finding a better angle to watch Karkat's face.]

Or you can just...talk about what they were like. I only talked to a couple of them, I think. [Scritch, scritch. He moves his hand down, flattening dark hair against the back Karkat's neck--lifts and smooths it down again, warm and steady.] You can tell me what you liked about them, the shit you miss. Or how annoying they were, whatever.

[Then, because his name's already floating around--and because the alternative is Vriska, and thinking about Vriska means thinking about Terezi, and Dave would rather ease into that more slowly for his own sake, if nothing else--he offers:]

Which one was Tavros?

[Karkat's more grateful for the hand than ever when Dave makes that suggestion. It's impossible to hide the way he tenses regardless, not that he tries, but the moment is shorter than it could have been, his panic fading before it has enough time to take root. His bloodpusher is still racing, but he's okay, dammit. He's fine, that had been three years ago, too, so what the fuck.

He focuses on returning his breathing to normal as Dave continues, somehow resisting the urge to close the remaining gap between them and just hug him for all he's worth. This is not the fucking time, they're having a conversation and he's not going to interrupt it for something so minor. What is wrong with him?

It's no real surprise that he readily latches onto the new direction, nodding just a little and taking another slow, deep breath while he composes his thoughts. No more thinking about the meteor. Time to remember Tavros.]

His trolltag was adiosToreador. He stammered a lot, used to piss me off.

[Already it's clear that Karkat is sticking to a recitation of facts, but that's still talking, right? There's no need to delve into actual emotions.]

He was pretty close to Aradia—they were on the same FLARP team and all. A lot of our friends were into FLARP, it was kind of fucking annoying.

[There, wasn't that easy? He takes another slow breath and goes back to examining Dave's hand, setting gradually. Fine. Everything's fine.]

I didn't join in because it—because people died from it. And I'd probably get cut or something and expose my blood color. Nepeta wanted to, but Equius stopped her for the same reason. It wasn't safe.

[He turns the hand over, unfolds it carefully, and looks at the veins crisscrossing Dave's palm. They're blue, same as his as a human, and what the hell is that, anyway?]

He... had an accident. [Karkat stops, scowls.] No, it wasn't a fucking accident. Vriska did it on purpose.

...Terezi told me about some of that.

[Dave's petting hand slows while Karkat examines the other one. He didn't think about it when he was the one getting handsy with the merchandise, but it's sort of...a strange feeling, letting someone else manipulate a part of him this way, so carefully and aimlessly. The way Karkat does it, it's like being studied, and not a dare or a giggling challenge like when Terezi would get her teeth too close to his throat.

He moves the pad of his thumb to the spot below and behind Karkat's ear, where Dave finds tension tends to build up on his own damn self, when he's over-tired and clenching his jaw too much. He presses gently, rubs in a little circle. It's an apology, too, for causing that spike of--something, of pain or fear. Shh, dude. Shhh, it's okay.]

I guess the other team would've been her and Vriska. So. I can't really say I'm surprised, looking back on it.

[He puts his fingers against Karkat's cheek again and scoots in, trying to catch his eye. Trying to make sure this is right, that this is okay. His own gaze is steady, now, if still a little redder than usual after the brief bout of crying from before.]

Still sucks, though. What she did, and everything. You can gloss over that part if you want, I got the basic facts about it.

[Karkat's mouth presses into a thin line, but he nods, confirming... hell, just about everything Dave had just said. He hadn't been directly involved himself, so talking about it wouldn't have been as hard as it might have been for Terezi or, fuck, everyone else that bullshit had affected, including Sollux, but he'd still prefer not to rehash it if necessary. Vriska was just... ugh, he doesn't know what to think about Vriska. Backstabbing spiderbitch or not, the way Terezi had talked about her when he and Dave had held that intervention...

... Anyway, he'll seize the opportunity to move on as it's presented, meeting Dave's eyes easily enough and clasping his hand to indicate that he's all right. Mostly all right. It'll do.]

It was this whole thing between all of them, yeah. But... anyway, I was going to say that he was in a wheelchair because of it. Through the whole game, too.

[And then Kanaya had chainsawed his legs off, but more importantly—]

It's fucking stupid. He would've been culled back on Alternia because of that, you know? Unless we'd managed to get Equius to fix him up sooner. I'd like to think we would've.

[Somehow. Call in a favor, somehow. Get Nepeta to talk him into it, something. She and Tavros liked roleplaying together, so it could have worked, right? Fuck, he keeps thinking about Nepeta and Equius even though this is supposed to be... ugh.

He shudders minutely and releases Dave's hand for the sole purpose of lightly dragging two fingers down the center of his palm. It's a little petty, but seeing whether or not Dave reacts the same way to it he had would brighten him right the fuck up.]

So he makes it through all that shit and having metal legs grafted to his fucking body and then—then that happens. He didn't even—

[Fuck. Fuck, wasn't Karkat going to keep this facts only? Goddammit, maybe if he just backs up—]

He—he liked Fiduspawn and his stupid fucking lusus and I didn't—I didn't know him nearly as well as I should've.

[It's maybe not the same reaction exactly, but as Karkat's fingers cross his palm, Dave feels pink warmth creep back into his face, feels goosebumps rise along his arms. Shit, holy shit. Why does it do that? It's not like it's his face or his back, his hands touch things all the time, they're his hands, so why does it...why is it different, when Karkat does this to him?

(Because no one ever treated him delicately. Because he's been as starved for kindness as for affection, for trust. Because it's Karkat shelving the spines and fury he wears as armor to talk to him softly, to brush fingers across his skin like the act is sacred.

'If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this...'

...Wait. What?)

Dave blinks a few times, then, as surreptitiously as possible, presses his cheek further into the quilt to see if it'll help get his face under control. Enough with the pure maiden blushing already, Jesus.]

You know, I. Think I remember him. AdiosToreador, right?

[His hand travels down to Karkat's shoulder, but goes back up again. There are too many layers in the way. Dave knows his hand is warm, and warm is good, right? He cradles Karkat's face another moment, then returns to stroking his cheek slowly.]

He tried to troll me, way back at the beginning. But I backsassed him so hard he actually blocked me. Never heard from him again.

[He tries a small, honest, self-deprecating smile.]

I may have insinuated some things about his alien sexuality and made him feel slightly uncomfortable. Guess I'm kind of a huge bitch, too.

[Not the same reaction and Karkat should have timed it better, but the blush still helps to center him while he tries to keep his emotions in check. He wishes he'd had a hand on Dave's face then, just to see if could have felt that warmth spread, but there will always be other opportunities for that. He hopes, anyway.

... Should he be trying to make his moirail blush. Eh, fuck it, he doesn't care.

He's feeling better by the time Dave gets around to confessing that he's a giant bitch (about fucking time), and while he's not up to smiling again just yet, he can and will nuzzle the hand on his cheek. Because it's there. Shut up.]

I could see that happening, yeah. Tavros was—always really sensitive, for a troll.

[Maybe even for a human. Fuck, he should have kept a closer watch on him, why had he let any of them leave the computer lab? If he'd just made everyone stay in the same room, maybe—ugh. No, he's not thinking about this.

He traces the three most prominent lines on Dave's palm next, then the veins, following them all they way up to the his fingertips. Human nails are weird. Why are they clear?]

I think he took his lusus's death the hardest out of all of us. He had a—

[Fuck. Karkat swallows, tries again.]

He had a plush of him. On the meteor.

[Dave quiets again, just looking at Karkat, then tries to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear.]

Some people are really close with their family. I guess maybe it helped, for him.

[He knows trolls don't think of people in family terms, knows the word doesn't mean a whole lot. But what's a lusus--a caretaker linked literally by blood, if not species; a presence in the troll household, a constant--if not family? That's the only way he knows how to think about it.

...Then again, what does Dave know about that shit.

He strokes Karkat's hair back again, then sighs.]

C'mere.

[He doesn't pull his hand out of Karkat's, just folds his fingers around his palm for a moment and scoots in, slips his other arm under the blanket so he can wrap it around Karkat's back. He rubs between his shoulder blades, pats the nape of his neck.]

'S better. I was cold.

[It's transparent enough not to count as a lie, he thinks, while still allowing Karkat his dignity. If that matters, really, when they've opened this much.]

[It's close enough to family that Karkat understands what he means immediately, and he nods, thinking of Crabdad. Stupid fucking Crabdad. He should never have run that program.

He glances up and blinks when Dave moves, confused and then relieved because fuck his dignity anyway, what had it ever done for him? He doesn't need a convenient lie to hug Dave, either; he'd only needed some indication that his moirail was ready for it. Permission was one thing, but with how skittish Dave had been... he just wasn't going to fucking go there until he was sure, all right?

Now that he is, there's only one thing to do: hug the shit out of this stupid human. Releasing Dave's hand, Karkat sneaks an arm around his waist and—fuck it. Fuck subtlety. Fuck waiting, he's just going to invade Dave's personal space and burrow against him, hiding his face because okay maybe this is a little embarrassing but not entertaining the thought of letting go for a second.]

Idiot.

[It's muffled but still distinct enough that Dave shouldn't have any trouble deciphering it. Nobody ever said moirails couldn't insult each other, shoosh.]

... I'll get you more blankets. And that stupid sweater. [He tucks the red mass of fluff around them more securely and resumes his highly important Dave hugging duty.] Someone has to take care of your stubborn ass. Might as well be me.

[Dumb. Hugs are way easier to deal with than all the tender face-touching and shared vulnerability. Does Karkat think spending several months with Jade Harley, of all people, hasn't accustomed Dave to at least the receiving of torso squeezes? He just doesn't know how to navigate when it's okay or not to initiate.

When Dave gets his other arm back, he wraps that around Karkat, too, pulls him right up close and snug into his slim, bony shoulder.

The words still shiver right through him, still make something flip over all wobbly in his stomach. He curls tighter around Karkat, lets out a wavering breath past his ear.]

I don't wanna hear 'stubborn' from you, fuckface.

[Never ever go away, ever.

Now they've stepped back from the deep feelings examination, though, so maybe it's time for a breather. Time to check in, time to...be self-conscious and clingy, apparently. Karkat's made sure Dave's okay with shit, but what about him?]

Is this working for you? How am I doing so far. Like, on a scale from one to ten, how would you rate your moixperience, we at Strider Industries, LLC appreciate your feedback.

[If Karkat were still six, he would have retorted with another "stubborn" and possibly "shitstain" to round things out, but they are having a moment here and he's not going to ruin it. Or—fine, he probably will, but not yet and not if Dave doesn't first. Both are equally possible.

Until then, he's sighing contentedly and closing his eyes, feeling warm and safe and honestly sort of like taking a nap, which is too strange to even process. At least Dave has gotten around to that moment-ruining.]

You don't even know what "LLC" stands for, do you?

[Not that he does, either, but Dave's the one who said it.]

And you've been... really, really great. [Fuck, that sounded stupid.] I mean, I—this is... everything I wanted. Thank you.

[He shifts a little, insinuating himself all the more closely and absolutely not as a way to conceal how self-conscious he also is. He's not turning red again, either. Goddammit.]

... Is this... helping you, too?

['Thank you.'

Nope, time to bury his face in Karkat's shoulder, to release a breathy laugh into his collar.]

Yeah, if you're gonna keep saying shit like that to me. Fuckin' palequad Casanova, how the hell do you even do that.

[How very dare. After a moment, Dave props his chin more properly on Karkat's shoulder, breathes out on a long exhalation.]

Real talk for a second--[And he tightens his grip for a moment, snuggles in.]--not that that wasn't real just now, I just--I just gotta. You know how you said I had to talk about my old junk, too?

[Mmmmnnnhhhhhh. He doesn't want to, but. Yeah. Okay.]

I will. I just... [He sighs.] There's stuff. From before three years ago. And I'll get into it with you, especially since you're dealing really closely with, like, the repercussions of the stuff. But for me, it's...I'm still figuring out what the stuff even is. So...

[He nuzzles down into Karkat's shoulder again. Maybe Karkat will pet his hair more. That would be nice.]

Is it okay if we like...table that, as something to work towards? I just don't know if I can talk about it, I...the words aren't there. I mean, there's other stuff I can talk about, but. Yeah. ...Okay?

[Karkat can't read minds, either, but with Dave's head conveniently in range on his shoulder, there's not much chance he'll be able to resist. Time to smooth that fair hair into place and resume petting. As for what Dave is saying... that's going to be a lot harder.

He's silent for several seconds, not because the question is all that difficult but because phrasing his answer is going to fucking suck. If he weren't so determined to make this moirallegiance work, to keep any relationship at all from crumbling under the weight of things unsaid...

Goddammit.]

It's the same for me.

[Quiet again. He can be quiet if he really, really tries.]

I don't... I mean, I know what it is, it's just. [ Huff.] I'm a goddamn coward, is what it is, I can't even think about it without losing my shit all over the place.

[Or on Ashley, apparently. Goddammit, how is that the closest he'd ever come to talking about it, what is wrong with him? But he'll deal with that later; Dave is his priority right now.]

So... take as much time as you need. We'll both get there, and... just know I'm always here for you, all right?

[The wait physically hurts, because--hell, did he fuck up, he always fucks up, he shouldn't have asked--but then. Then.

God, Terezi was way too right about the two of them. In how many ways are they this similar, and how many hasn't he noticed? When Karkat finally answers, Dave squeezes him gently, because right now, there's nothing he needs to protect more in this world than this dumb, idiot, precious troll.]

Yeah, all right. Me too. [After a pause, he rubs his head under Karkat's ear, like a cat.] Remind me once in a while. I'm a repetition learner.

[Okay. He's comfortable again, and Karkat is actually nice and warm. Not like Missy Elliott, but then again, Elliott can't hug, her little legs are too short. Dave makes a contented noise and just. Cuddles up.

Congratulations; Karkat has successfully unlocked Koala Mode. Dave's smiling slightly as he speaks again.]

You're like, supremely snugglable, did you know that? You might almost be as good at hugs as the Mayor.

[He's spent enough time dealing with Sharru's demands for attention to draw that connection, and the fact that it's Dave and not an asshole cat doing it makes all the difference—namely, anyway. He'd be just as willing to scritch between the Espurr's ears as he is Dave's now, but with his moirail, he won't grumble.]

I know.

[Scritch, scritch. This is just as relaxing to do for someone as it is to be on the receiving end, what the hell is that? Moirallegiance is what. And, while Dave's lack of horns does rob him of convenient targets, Karkat is keeping a close eye on his reactions to see which spots on his scalp yield the most favorable response. Prepare to be spoiled, Strider.]

I still don't get how you didn't figure it out sooner. I wasn't... trying to hit on you, but it was hard to, uh. I mean. [Fuck, why did he introduce this topic, Dave can't see him blushing again, right?] Okay, let's mutually agree this part of the conversation never happened, all right?

[aslkdjfgd every fucking time]

And shut your blasphemous mouth, no one's as good at hugs as the Mayor.

[Yes he did notice Dave said "almost," he's just trying to change the subject.]

[No. There will be no changing of subject. In fact, even though head pets are the best thing ever to have been invented by mortal mind (and his favorite spots seem to be in the back, where his hair's clipped to fuzz; he just melts), he actually stops and pulls back a bit, just so he can look at his blushing moirail.

(His. That's a new concept, too. He never could think that way about Terezi.)]

You literally found me irresistible.

[Dave is grinning like an asshole.]

You just said it, no take-backs. You couldn't keep your hands off my hot young bod. Or my, I dunno. Whatever the equivalent of hot is for palepals.

[He withdraws both arms just so he can reach up and rub both Karkat's cheeks with his thumbs. Haha, what the fuck, that's adorable and also makes him feel weirdly fluttery on the inside.]

You know, considering the quadrant, I'm wondering if I should feel slightly insulted.

Edited (Redundancy, what redundancy) 2016-03-23 22:29 (UTC)

[GODDAMMIT.]

Shut your fucking mouth, Dave, I never said you were irresistible!

[Not using that word, anyway, and what the fuck are these thumbs on his face, what is Dave doing?! Karkat sputters and unwinds his arms from his moirail so he can seize the edge of the blanket and at least try to yank it over his stupid smug head. This irredeemable grubfucker, why had he been so attracted to him again?]

You want a quadrant lecture? I'll give you a fucking quadrant lecture! For one, we usually say palemate, but if you want to be a wiggler about it, fine, "palepal" works.

[The ~*scornfully pantomimed*~ enclosure talons are audible, even if he does eventually give up his efforts to drown Dave in fluffy red fabric in record time and thus has his hands free to do it if he wished. He just doesn't. Dick.]

Second, it's not an insult to say you pity someone, you insipid douche. Even in moirallegiance, where the goal is to pacify each other, you wouldn't feel that attraction if the person's strengths weren't more important to you than how fucking terrible they are at handling their shit. So when I say I'm pale for you, what I really mean is—

[Oh. Oh fuck, no, how did he make it worse, he's going to need to actually finish this thought, isn't he? Or just BS it somehow?? But lying to his moirail about this, even if they're an epic jackoff like Dave fucking Strider is just—RRGH.

Karkat's face is on fire by now, but he grits out the rest anyway, his hands now drifting up to Dave's and. Okay, he's not sure he wants to move them. Fuck.]

What I mean is that you're too fucking important to me for me to just—just stand by and let you hurt yourself, all right? It means I'm willing to stick my neck out for you because guess what, unstable trolls without moirails or morails who don't do their fucking jobs get culled. Sometimes both do! And if your moirail is really, really unstable, there's always a chance you'll be the first one to—that they'll—

[Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, he hadn't meant to—shit, breathe, this really isn't the time, how can he pull this back? Think about Dave, not—the other one.

He presses Dave's hands against his skin and closes his eyes. God, he's so fucking pathetic, why can't he let that go?]

... It's not an insult.

[The blowup is hilarious until it's not, until Karkat falters right at the end.]

I know. Shhh.

[Karkat's got his hands pinned, and right now, Dave doesn't feel like the kind of asshole to pull them away, even if it's only to comfort him further. Instead, he just leans his forehead against Karkat's, closes his eyes, too.]

You're safe with me, all right? The most danger you'll ever be in is of having to witness me sticking my own foot down my throat like a starving man at a five-star buffet. There it goes, barreling straight down Esophagus Lane, that strut pod ain't never coming back, y'all. Dave's walkstub has left the building.

[Dave takes advantage of what play Karkat's left his thumbs to brush them gently over Karkat's cheekbones again.]

I don't...I don't have a problem with being important to you. [Even if the concept still feels too big to get around, to even comprehend properly.] I'm just making light of shit until it stops feeling so...until it stops blowing my mind basically every time.

[One conversation can't erase thirteen--sixteen, more?--years of feeling like everyone's afterthought, like he's only as good as the novelty of his entertainment. Only by dint of will is he not dying and stuttering over Karkat's every casual confession of feeling, of caring, of giving a fucking shit about him as a friend. As a person.

He moves his head back to look at Karkat, face framed carefully in his hands. Dave's eyes are steady, waiting.]

But still, you know--even if humans don't have those categories, I still feel pretty much the same way about you, right. So, even if I don't get some of the other stuff, I--I still know.

[To protect. To shield so Karkat can get his footing back, to support so he can grow. To be there. To let Karkat take care of him, to trust, so they can teach each other how not to be afraid.]

I'm not gonna dick around like a jackass while you hurt, either, okay? Even if I weren't your...your palemate, that wouldn't...change. [More firmly, more softly:] I'd still feel that way.

Edited (Forgot I was going to do a thing) 2016-03-24 02:18 (UTC)

[He doesn't mean to, but Karkat just might flinch at the contact at first—you know, because he's a fucking moron who can't work out for himself that only Dave could be this close right now. Never mind the fact that they look, smell, sound, and feel completely different, much less that Karkat can literally sense each and every word passing Dave's lips as a faint breeze at this distance, oh no, he has to have a fucking panic attack over everything like it happened yesterday. What kind of troll is he?

His eyes gradually open, but he's staring at Dave's mouth as he speaks, his features twisted into a frown. Yes, he knows he's safe, he trusts Dave, but he's such a fucking mess. How can Dave commit himself to shoveling this bullshit when the reward is just more Karkat? Is there even really a difference between the two?

... He's straying from the point. Again.

Swallowing roughly, Karkat finally meets Dave's eyes, releases his hands, and reaches out with one of his own to cup his moirail's cheek while he just... looks at him. This stupid, stupid asshole deserves so much better.]

I believe you. Or—or I'm trying to, it's just...

[He shrugs helplessly, struggling not to break eye contact. Does he even need to say how fucking hard his self-loathing makes it to accept Dave's feelings? God, this is so completely moronic, why are they having the same issues with everything?

A second or two passes before he leans in to reestablish that forehead-to-forehead contact because yes, he'd missed it. Stop moving away, goddammit, even if it's to make a point.]

I trust you. I know I'm safe with you. It's just hard not to feel like I'm... like you don't need this as much as I do.

[Like I'm not good enough for you. Like you don't need me as much as I need you. Dave needs a moirail, yes, but Karkat? And. And, wait. Wait, goddammit, did he just—FUCK.

He pulls his hand back to swipe angrily at his eye and adds the rest in a rush.]

I'm not questioning—I mean, I'm, fuck, I'm not trying to belittle your feelings or get you to say or do anything here, and I know you're being sincere, I'm just—

[Really, really fucked up. God, no, it would sound like he's just copying what Dave had said earlier, what the hell is he even doing?!]

I-I'm working on it, okay?

[Please don't go. Please.]

Edited (sTUFF) 2016-03-24 07:52 (UTC)

Shhh. I know, dude. You're fine.

[He's got his hands back, but he only moves one of them, smoothing his fingers down the side of Karkat's neck. If Karkat's stupidly snuggable, he's eminently touchable, too, in some inexplicable subconscious hindbrain way. It's weird, something about his baby fat to muscle ratio, something about the way he's shaped.

Maybe it's because he's not that big, or because he's vocal and always butting into things so Dave doesn't have to wonder as much whether he actually wants to be there or not.

(Maybe it's because Karkat's never hurt him.)

His fingertips graze over the ends of Karkat's hair in the back, and he rubs them in there again, gentle. Tries to pat the mess down. It's a mission impossible.]

If it only took hugging it out one time to fix people's longstanding brain problems, y'all wouldn't dedicate a whole quadrant to it for like the rest of your lives. And humans wouldn't spend fucking decades in therapy, either.

[His movements slow to stillness again, and then, speaking of hugging it out, he loops his arms around Karkat and resettles them both.]

You got time, all right? I promised you before. I'm not going anywhere.

[He breathes out right across Karkat's hair.]

You could fall asleep on my arm and cut my circulation the hell off, and I wouldn't even nudge you. You don't see that kind of dedication every day, bro. I am a rare and beautiful gift. Love me.

[Not for lack of trying, but at the moment, biting Dave and/or his garments is the furthest thing from Karkat's mind. God, just—how had he dismissed that so easily? Not that Karkat's complaining or even disagreeing with Dave's assessment, but obviously their issues with all these goddamn emotions are completely different no matter how similar they seem on the surface. He doesn't understand how his moirail is being this patient with him. It doesn't make sense.

Countering any of the points raised is beyond him, though; between all the shooshing and holy fuck what even was that touch on his neck, Karkat's melting into a complacent puddle of goo again, hug returned with absolutely zero evidence of actual thought on his part. Humans shouldn't be so good at this, they don't even do quadrants. Either something's seriously amiss, his feelings for Dave are completely clouding his judgment, or Dave is secretly some kind of diamond savant.

Or, in his words, a "palequad Casanova." If humans had adult titles, that would be his adult title.

... Yeah. Wow. Fuck no.

Snorting quietly under his breath, Karkat gives Dave an uncoordinated nuzzle and lets his head thunk against his moirail's collarbone. Damn him for being so tall anyway.]

Pale for you. Same thing.

[Sort of, anyway. More quadrant lectures can wait; he's not eager to revisit that subject in a hurry. He'll do it later, assuming they're both feeling less emotionally compromised.

And... even if all of this has been sentimental enough for any and every romcom Karkat has ever seen, he has to add one thing more.]

I believe you, I think. You're still a fucking moron for agreeing to this, but I'm glad you did.

[All the romcoms. All of them.]

Edited (WORDS) 2016-03-25 06:03 (UTC)

Taking it slow, but it's not typical

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