callbacks: (sord.....)
dave mamahecking strider ([personal profile] callbacks) wrote 2016-06-01 05:07 pm (UTC)

action

[And then Karkat is gone. Blargh, cold.

First order of business is peeling his boxers off and rubbing the towel briskly all over. He sat just long enough not to be dripping wet anymore, which is also just long enough to start feeling gross and clammy instead of just wet. Fuuuuuck that.

Dave manages to get himself standing to more easily dry himself and his legs only feel a little bit jello-ey, a little bit stiff. He still would rather be lying down, preferably under about a million blankets with the TV on and the windows locked, his eyes on the door. All exits covered.

God, why is he like this?

He can hear Karkat moving, though, and that's a good enough non-silence for now, and then, oh, he's talking. Dave waits for him to finish his sentence, but when it trails off with hardly a start to it, he lifts his head.]


...Or?

[He wraps the towel around his hips and sticks his face in the gap between the door and the frame, holding both door and towel carefully in front of his poor cold naked man parts.]

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