[No judgment here. Wait, that's a lie. So much judgment. All the judgment.
Karkat is fortunately too busy putting the finishing touches on the most epic pile ever to offer comment, but he does have the presence of mind to look away from his work when Dave arrives and give his moirail a faint smile. This fucking idiot.]
I knew I kept you around for something.
[Yes. It has nothing to do with how pappable Dave is at all.]
[He sets the food aside for a moment, though, to inspect the pile. Inspect it with his face, anyway. He plants himself comfortably in the heap with a soft grunt.]
[Fortunately for Dave, every blanket and pillow in the room was nobly sacrificed for the purpose of constructing this pile, i.e., it's soft as fuck. You're welcome. Enjoy faceplanting into it while Karkat rolls his eyes and settles into the other half.]
Is this going to be a thing with you. Because if this is going to be a thing, we need to renegotiate the terms of our moirallegiance. They're just piles, Dave, what the fuck.
Edited (I'M SICK AND SUCK AT WRITING) 2016-04-29 14:06 (UTC)
Your face is just a pile. Also, they're good and I like them.
[He burrows a little deeper in and makes a contented noise.]
You can make them out of whatever and just pick 'em up when you're done, or kick stuff around or crawl all underneath everything for maximum comfort. Like holing up in a fluffy-ass cloud of awesome.
[What the fuck. Dave, what. And, yeah, Karkat's going to ignore the part where that bullshit response means Dave thinks his face is good and likes it? Wait, what. Okay, no, this matter is too complex for him right now, back to pile-wallowing.]
They're not all fluffy, dickweasel. The horn pile wasn't, and I think Eridan had a pile of shitty wands stashed somewhere.
[And Equius and Nepeta had, what, a pile of robot parts? God, he really shouldn't have started on this particular tangent; it isn't helpful at all.
He muffles a groan in the "fluffy-ass cloud of awesome" his moirail is unreasonably enamored with, then turns his head to direct a vague glare in the idiot's direction.]
Where are my nuggets, asshole. I'm not getting up for them.
[Dave reaches out until his fingertips scrape the edge of a bag, and then he manages to tug it over, pull out the Happiny Meal Box, and try to balance it on Karkat's head.]
Hmm. You know, I think I remember passing the fuck out in a pile of suitarangs and shitty weapons once.
[He crosses his arms under his chin, watching Karkat, then breathes out.]
[This is Abuse. He is speaking with his legislacerator ASAP, by god, you little shit. He'll see you in the courtblock.
... Yeah, this metaphor makes no sense to anyone anymore. Don't mind him while he growls and snatches the box off of his head, or rather mind a whole hell of a lot because what the fuck, Strider, how is this appropriate pile conduct?
He sits up a little, but since Dave is apparently choosing now to actually get serious (thus robbing him of his totally immature and yet completely deserved retaliation, damn you), he doesn't do much more than that. Naoya. Right.
He stares down at the Happiny Meal Box in his hands and frowns.]
You're okay with him. Right?
[He needs to be absolutely sure of this first. Just. Because.]
[He stops, and he doesn't respond quick enough to mask the hesitation. He runs a hand back through his hair, glancing away for a moment.]
Yeah, he's okay. [Mmmgh. He rolls the taste of that in his mouth for a second, then amends the statement.] I'm okay with him. It's not him, not really.
[Well, it is, sort of. Dave doesn't have this problem with anyone else.]
I can't...get into everything. His secrets, not mine, you know? Pretty sure this one's on me anyway, he's been nothing but cool with me.
[... Was that supposed to reassure him? Because, spoilers, he's really not reassured. Sorry, Dave, but lukewarm descriptors like "okay" and that hesitation really aren't subtle to someone as in tune with your moods as Karkat is. Tries to be. Whatever.
He wastes a few more seconds wiggler meal whatever-the-fuck before "casually" opening it and plucking out a nugget. If Dave doesn't start eating some of his own, he swears he's going to hold the asshole down and shove some into his meal tunnel.]
But he bothers you. Right? Or something about him reminds you of something that bothers you?
[He's trying to sound casual and failing miserably. Just fucking talk to him, goddammit, Dave.]
[Look, he can't hold a serious conversation about serious things and eat at the same time, okay? ...Well, okay, that's a lie. Dave can do anything and talk at the same time. Getting Dave not to talk is the problem. Usually.
It's not quite the problem now, and he rubs at a seam on one of their quilts, tries to smooth out the wrinkles in the fabric.]
He reminds me of...
[No, don't trail off. Deep breath. Say it. Just say it, asshole.]
Bro. [He glances at Karkat, away again, but then comes back to his face immediately. Stays there. Swallows.] He reminds me of my bro. So. [Faux-relaxed shrug.] Complicated; shitty reasons.
[... So, if there were any combination of syllables at all to guarantee that Karkat would completely forget any perceived or actual need to eat in favor of just fucking listening to his moirail, that would be it.
Fuck. Just... fuck.
He drops the nugget he'd been contemplating back into the box and sets both aside. He can wait to eat, whatever, not important. Just. Goddammit, Dave.]
You haven't told him.
[It would be a question, but considering the fact that he knows Dave, yeah, no. Of course the idiot hasn't told anyone. In fact, Karkat's probably the first person he's mentioned this to at all, isn't he?]
Uh, no? Of course not. No one wants to hear shit like that, it's awkward even when they're not getting compared to...to a grown-ass man who likes to play with dolls.
[Because that is the most damning thing he can say about the man who threw him off the roof of a high-rise when he was an infant.
(It kind of is, if only because he can't say anything else without his throat closing up.)]
He knows he's done something similar to something Bro did, too. Or didn't do, more like. That's all.
Karkat says nothing, just hauls himself a little straighter then—no, what, fuck this. Sagging back down so he can stare Dave in the eye it is, especially if he can scoot over and fling an arm around his moirail in the process. Proper posture can go fuck itself; hug time is now.]
Is it something he's still doing? Or still hasn't done. I mean, it's... something bad, right?
[He can't help but cringe at the phrasing, but what the fuck else is he supposed to call it, really. Whatever Dave is actually objecting to has to be horrendously bad, right? It's Dave.]
Because I had to watch Digimon and I have no control over my life
[Well, okay, Karkat can stare Dave soulfully in the shades all he likes. His gaze skitters off somewhere for a moment and he nods in answer to the second question, but his mouth tightens a bit. It's more complicated than that.]
I guess it depends on your perspective. What he did, maybe it saved a lot of people. But to do that, he...some personal sacrifices got made along the way, let's say.
[Dave breathes out and finally relaxes a little into the hug.]
Anyway, he can't do it here. And he said it was over, anyway. The thing he was trying to do.
[Apocalypses, am I right. Can't live with 'em, can't apparently fucking exist without 'em.]
But, I think, given the chance, he...yeah, I think he still would.
Edited (Well that icon was inappropriate) 2016-04-30 13:06 (UTC)
[Fucking shades. Karkat should have taken them off sooner, but he'd been distracted by... other shit, whatever, not important. Either way, he's frowning to himself while Dave speaks, watching what little his moirail does reveal before reaching up, carefully tugging the offending eyewear off, and setting it aside. There will come a day when Dave has the presence of mine to remove the shades himself, but until then, Karkat has that shit covered and fuck this loser for making it necessary to begin with.
And... right. That.
He snuggles closer, his arms winding around the idiot again because why not. Shut up.]
Do you think you would feel better? If you both talked about it.
[Because that's the important part, really. The other stuff is still significant, sure, whatever, but for Karkat, Dave's mental and emotional health would always be the top priority.]
Well yes I am a host on a Digimon podcast, there is some level of obligation there
[Dave huffs a very little bit when Karkat takes the shades, but doesn't actually protest. What does the dude have against stylish ironic eyewear, geez. At least it makes it easier to press his forehead to Karkat's and hold him close and pretend he's not being a clingy infant about this entire ordeal.]
Naw. No way, dude, not ever. It's...he didn't do anything to me, so dumping Bro shit on him and making comparisons would just, it'd make him feel bad and it'd make me feel bad, and it's not like either of us would get any closure on our bullshit 'cause he's not Bro and I'm not--I'm not his cousin. Brother. Guy.
[...That probably said too much, right there. He shakes his head a little, eyes shut.]
It's me, it's not him. Our damage just intersects in really unfortunate ways, so it's not...it's not, I don't know. His business, I guess? [Bleh. He nuzzles in closer.] If I can barely even bring myself to acknowledge that shit with you, I'm definitely not gonna touch it with him.
[Dave, you basically just answered your own question, but okay. Karkat is in no position to accuse anyone of being a clingy wiggler, anyway; he's too busy feeling warm and happy about the closeness even if now really isn't the fucking time for that. He just... ugh. Forget it.
He hugs Dave tighter. Because.]
All right, you've made your fucking point. I just. [He makes a disgusted sound under his breath.] It sucks massive, hairy teat that you're stuck having to deal with this on your own. I mean, you have me and Jade and John, but... fuck, I don't know. You don't deserve any of this shit.
[It isn't fair. It never is. And fuck Naoya anyway for not being an appropriate stand-in for Dave to work through all of these damn issues somehow. Someone like that probably doesn't exist anyway, but god wouldn't that solve a whole bunch of problems at once.]
[Yeah geez, obviously we would all accept the presence of someone like that with enormous amounts of chill and no complete loss of our shit whatsoever.
Dave sits (or lies, he guesses) with that statement for a moment before lifting his head away just a bit and stroking Karkat's hair back slowly from his forehead, eyes solemn, soft.]
Neither do you. Or Jade, or John.
[Were any of them ever not alone when they had to face the worst parts of their lives? Dave can't remember.
...Karkat's still the only troll in Johto. Dave tries to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, just rubs his thumb in a circle above it when it doesn't stay.]
Not my shit necessarily. Just. All the shit. The shit in general. [He lets his hand still, framing Karkat's face.] ...It's not right.
[Karkat is sorely fucking tempted to counter that point, if only because he's reasonably sure that he has to deserve some of it after some of the shit he'd unleashed on others (he only, you know, gave an entire universe cancer), but that conversation isn't one he wants to have with Dave right now. Or ever.
He shuts his eyes and nuzzles the hand, either ignoring or just not caring that doing so effectively ruins whatever vague attempt his moirail had been making to straighten his hair. It's a lot cause anyway.]
It's almost okay, being here. Away from that.
[He says it without really thinking, his eyes flicking open briefly to peek at Dave's face before closing again. Why the fuck did he open his mouth, argh.]
Just wish we didn't have to wonder about... the rest of it.
[The fate of their timeline, the lives of their friends, and on and on and on. Assuming John's bullshit quest worked at all. As an unrelenting pessimist, Karkat has his doubts.]
[Dave hums quietly but doesn't answer for a while, still playing with Karkat's hair. It really is hopeless, but it keeps his hands busy while he weighs out and measures his words, puts some back on the shelf and looks for others.]
...I think it'll be okay.
[He trusts John, but that feels stupid to say, so he doesn't. He trusts Terezi, too, and that is stupid, given that the last time he talked to her she was hungover as shit in a downward clownhate spiral. Dave doesn't bring her up, either, just scoots up so he can rest his nose in Karkat's hair like it's his personal snoot nest. It means he's talking into Karkat's forehead, but whatever, Katkat can deal.]
Statistically speaking, there's got to be a timeline out there where we didn't...where shit didn't catapult so completely off the handle. Maybe John's whatever thing's gonna make it exist, I don't know.
[It certainly doesn't jive with Time as Dave understands it, but John's not a liar and this is too complex (and also, mean as hell?) to be a prank. He sighs across Karkat's hair.]
I just. Even if I personally don't get to partake in whatever bullshit reward's supposed to be waiting on the other side, I'd like to think that...I dunno. That some version of me could at least pull it off. ...That we could be okay.
[And he knows it doesn't work that way for everyone. Maybe it's just him. Maybe that's just the kind of personality it takes for a guy to rewind time like a spool of tape and turn into a bird.]
It's better than thinking we were fucked from the start.
[Katkat can pretend to deal, but the fact of the matter is that Dave talking into his forehead means that Dave is repeatedly brushing his lips against said forehead and holy fuck it tickles why. He doesn't squirm, nor does he headbutt his moirail in the mouth to fucking make him stop already, but he's definitely fidgeting and inattentive even though he really should be neither. This is a serious conversation, goddammit. Any and all stupid, fluttery feelings can go hurl themselves off the nearest building.
(Un?)fortunately, the shit Dave is saying is more than enough to snap Karkat out of it, and he inhales sharply before he can stop himself, his features twisting into a grimace. Some version of them. Some other—fuck. Fucking... fuck, that's just such utter bullshit.]
Isn't that the same thing? Every version of us is fucked except one. Isn't that just—
[He cuts himself off and lets his head thunk against Dave's chin, then nuzzles under it for the express purpose of muffling further grumbles into his moirail's neck. That probably also tickles way too goddamn much to tolerate, but he's feeling vindictive and more than slightly pissed at just... everything. Fuck everything. Everything is stupid and pointless and ugh.]
Sorry. I know we've already talked about this, I just... fuck. I don't get how you can be okay with it. It's probably because you're a fucking time player, they're always "0kay" with all the horrific doucheshittery that gets thrown at us.
[Sort of. Not really. God, when is the last time he even thought about Aradia? Pretty recently, actually. And Sollux. And...
Echoing Dave's sigh, he huddles closer. He's acting like a wiggler and he's not even sure that he cares right now; it's either that or scream or break down sobbing or all of the above. Like he's not already close to that point.]
[And just like that, Dave drops it like a cooked food tuber. Having Karkat all tucked into his throat is way more important than pursuing that train of thought, or shying away from how Karkat's breathing tickles against his skin. He just absorbs it because anything that moves him away from Karkat or vice versa is inherently a conksuck idea and was probably thought up by immigrants. To distract himself, he starts drawing on Karkat's back with his finger.
It might be random shapes and squiggles. It might also be dicks. Look, Dave's comfortable, dicks just happen.]
Nice of you to be all concerned about me. When you realized something was up with me and Naoya, I mean. 'M not...used to that. Are you hungry?
[With that lovely non sequitur, Dave turns his head a little, flails blindly, knocks a thankfully closed Happiny Meal box over and then brings it close enough to smell. Mmmm. Grease.]
[Dave, stop being racist when you're cuddling with your alien boyfriend. Brofriend. Whatever. Either way, Karkat is not going to be moved by something as simple as French fries; he has priorities, goddammit, and cuddling the shit out of this moron is oh fuck those actually do smell really good. Goddammit.
Sighing, he peels away a little and stares at the Happiny Meal box, his eyes narrowed. This is cheating.]
Well you're just going to have to get used to it. And yeah, I could eat.
[He glances back at Dave again, then sneaks back into nudge under his chin one last time just sort of because. It's kind of nice to be able to do that without horns in the way, not that he isn't still being very careful about how he angles his head regardless. It'd just be too fucking weird otherwise.]
You're feeling better, right?
[Dave doesn't seem like he isn't, but shut up, he's allowed to be completely fucking neurotic and ask anyway. They'd been talking obliquely about Bro, so it has to be warranted.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I'LL MAKE THE PILE THIS TIME.
no subject
[And he's back at the hotel shortly with a few Happiny Meals in tow. Because fuck you, the toys are awesome.]
Yo. Delivery.
no subject
Karkat is fortunately too busy putting the finishing touches on the most epic pile ever to offer comment, but he does have the presence of mind to look away from his work when Dave arrives and give his moirail a faint smile. This fucking idiot.]
I knew I kept you around for something.
[Yes. It has nothing to do with how pappable Dave is at all.]
no subject
[He sets the food aside for a moment, though, to inspect the pile. Inspect it with his face, anyway. He plants himself comfortably in the heap with a soft grunt.]
Piles. Man, I'm telling you. Wave of the future.
no subject
Is this going to be a thing with you. Because if this is going to be a thing, we need to renegotiate the terms of our moirallegiance. They're just piles, Dave, what the fuck.
no subject
[He burrows a little deeper in and makes a contented noise.]
You can make them out of whatever and just pick 'em up when you're done, or kick stuff around or crawl all underneath everything for maximum comfort. Like holing up in a fluffy-ass cloud of awesome.
no subject
They're not all fluffy, dickweasel. The horn pile wasn't, and I think Eridan had a pile of shitty wands stashed somewhere.
[And Equius and Nepeta had, what, a pile of robot parts? God, he really shouldn't have started on this particular tangent; it isn't helpful at all.
He muffles a groan in the "fluffy-ass cloud of awesome" his moirail is unreasonably enamored with, then turns his head to direct a vague glare in the idiot's direction.]
Where are my nuggets, asshole. I'm not getting up for them.
no subject
Hmm. You know, I think I remember passing the fuck out in a pile of suitarangs and shitty weapons once.
[He crosses his arms under his chin, watching Karkat, then breathes out.]
So. Naoya.
no subject
... Yeah, this metaphor makes no sense to anyone anymore. Don't mind him while he growls and snatches the box off of his head, or rather mind a whole hell of a lot because what the fuck, Strider, how is this appropriate pile conduct?
He sits up a little, but since Dave is apparently choosing now to actually get serious (thus robbing him of his totally immature and yet completely deserved retaliation, damn you), he doesn't do much more than that. Naoya. Right.
He stares down at the Happiny Meal Box in his hands and frowns.]
You're okay with him. Right?
[He needs to be absolutely sure of this first. Just. Because.]
no subject
Yeah, he's okay. [Mmmgh. He rolls the taste of that in his mouth for a second, then amends the statement.] I'm okay with him. It's not him, not really.
[Well, it is, sort of. Dave doesn't have this problem with anyone else.]
I can't...get into everything. His secrets, not mine, you know? Pretty sure this one's on me anyway, he's been nothing but cool with me.
no subject
He wastes a few more seconds wiggler meal whatever-the-fuck before "casually" opening it and plucking out a nugget. If Dave doesn't start eating some of his own, he swears he's going to hold the asshole down and shove some into his meal tunnel.]
But he bothers you. Right? Or something about him reminds you of something that bothers you?
[He's trying to sound casual and failing miserably. Just fucking talk to him, goddammit, Dave.]
no subject
It's not quite the problem now, and he rubs at a seam on one of their quilts, tries to smooth out the wrinkles in the fabric.]
He reminds me of...
[No, don't trail off. Deep breath. Say it. Just say it, asshole.]
Bro. [He glances at Karkat, away again, but then comes back to his face immediately. Stays there. Swallows.] He reminds me of my bro. So. [Faux-relaxed shrug.] Complicated; shitty reasons.
no subject
Fuck. Just... fuck.
He drops the nugget he'd been contemplating back into the box and sets both aside. He can wait to eat, whatever, not important. Just. Goddammit, Dave.]
You haven't told him.
[It would be a question, but considering the fact that he knows Dave, yeah, no. Of course the idiot hasn't told anyone. In fact, Karkat's probably the first person he's mentioned this to at all, isn't he?]
no subject
[Because that is the most damning thing he can say about the man who threw him off the roof of a high-rise when he was an infant.
(It kind of is, if only because he can't say anything else without his throat closing up.)]
He knows he's done something similar to something Bro did, too. Or didn't do, more like. That's all.
why ARE you awake
Karkat says nothing, just hauls himself a little straighter then—no, what, fuck this. Sagging back down so he can stare Dave in the eye it is, especially if he can scoot over and fling an arm around his moirail in the process. Proper posture can go fuck itself; hug time is now.]
Is it something he's still doing? Or still hasn't done. I mean, it's... something bad, right?
[He can't help but cringe at the phrasing, but what the fuck else is he supposed to call it, really. Whatever Dave is actually objecting to has to be horrendously bad, right? It's Dave.]
Because I had to watch Digimon and I have no control over my life
I guess it depends on your perspective. What he did, maybe it saved a lot of people. But to do that, he...some personal sacrifices got made along the way, let's say.
[Dave breathes out and finally relaxes a little into the hug.]
Anyway, he can't do it here. And he said it was over, anyway. The thing he was trying to do.
[Apocalypses, am I right. Can't live with 'em, can't apparently fucking exist without 'em.]
But, I think, given the chance, he...yeah, I think he still would.
"had to"
And... right. That.
He snuggles closer, his arms winding around the idiot again because why not. Shut up.]
Do you think you would feel better? If you both talked about it.
[Because that's the important part, really. The other stuff is still significant, sure, whatever, but for Karkat, Dave's mental and emotional health would always be the top priority.]
Well yes I am a host on a Digimon podcast, there is some level of obligation there
Naw. No way, dude, not ever. It's...he didn't do anything to me, so dumping Bro shit on him and making comparisons would just, it'd make him feel bad and it'd make me feel bad, and it's not like either of us would get any closure on our bullshit 'cause he's not Bro and I'm not--I'm not his cousin. Brother. Guy.
[...That probably said too much, right there. He shakes his head a little, eyes shut.]
It's me, it's not him. Our damage just intersects in really unfortunate ways, so it's not...it's not, I don't know. His business, I guess? [Bleh. He nuzzles in closer.] If I can barely even bring myself to acknowledge that shit with you, I'm definitely not gonna touch it with him.
why you gotta ruin it with logic
He hugs Dave tighter. Because.]
All right, you've made your fucking point. I just. [He makes a disgusted sound under his breath.] It sucks massive, hairy teat that you're stuck having to deal with this on your own. I mean, you have me and Jade and John, but... fuck, I don't know. You don't deserve any of this shit.
[It isn't fair. It never is. And fuck Naoya anyway for not being an appropriate stand-in for Dave to work through all of these damn issues somehow. Someone like that probably doesn't exist anyway, but god wouldn't that solve a whole bunch of problems at once.]
Because that's what I do. Ruin things.
Dave sits (or lies, he guesses) with that statement for a moment before lifting his head away just a bit and stroking Karkat's hair back slowly from his forehead, eyes solemn, soft.]
Neither do you. Or Jade, or John.
[Were any of them ever not alone when they had to face the worst parts of their lives? Dave can't remember.
...Karkat's still the only troll in Johto. Dave tries to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, just rubs his thumb in a circle above it when it doesn't stay.]
Not my shit necessarily. Just. All the shit. The shit in general. [He lets his hand still, framing Karkat's face.] ...It's not right.
no subject
He shuts his eyes and nuzzles the hand, either ignoring or just not caring that doing so effectively ruins whatever vague attempt his moirail had been making to straighten his hair. It's a lot cause anyway.]
It's almost okay, being here. Away from that.
[He says it without really thinking, his eyes flicking open briefly to peek at Dave's face before closing again. Why the fuck did he open his mouth, argh.]
Just wish we didn't have to wonder about... the rest of it.
[The fate of their timeline, the lives of their friends, and on and on and on. Assuming John's bullshit quest worked at all. As an unrelenting pessimist, Karkat has his doubts.]
no subject
...I think it'll be okay.
[He trusts John, but that feels stupid to say, so he doesn't. He trusts Terezi, too, and that is stupid, given that the last time he talked to her she was hungover as shit in a downward clownhate spiral. Dave doesn't bring her up, either, just scoots up so he can rest his nose in Karkat's hair like it's his personal snoot nest. It means he's talking into Karkat's forehead, but whatever, Katkat can deal.]
Statistically speaking, there's got to be a timeline out there where we didn't...where shit didn't catapult so completely off the handle. Maybe John's whatever thing's gonna make it exist, I don't know.
[It certainly doesn't jive with Time as Dave understands it, but John's not a liar and this is too complex (and also, mean as hell?) to be a prank. He sighs across Karkat's hair.]
I just. Even if I personally don't get to partake in whatever bullshit reward's supposed to be waiting on the other side, I'd like to think that...I dunno. That some version of me could at least pull it off. ...That we could be okay.
[And he knows it doesn't work that way for everyone. Maybe it's just him. Maybe that's just the kind of personality it takes for a guy to rewind time like a spool of tape and turn into a bird.]
It's better than thinking we were fucked from the start.
no subject
(Un?)fortunately, the shit Dave is saying is more than enough to snap Karkat out of it, and he inhales sharply before he can stop himself, his features twisting into a grimace. Some version of them. Some other—fuck. Fucking... fuck, that's just such utter bullshit.]
Isn't that the same thing? Every version of us is fucked except one. Isn't that just—
[He cuts himself off and lets his head thunk against Dave's chin, then nuzzles under it for the express purpose of muffling further grumbles into his moirail's neck. That probably also tickles way too goddamn much to tolerate, but he's feeling vindictive and more than slightly pissed at just... everything. Fuck everything. Everything is stupid and pointless and ugh.]
Sorry. I know we've already talked about this, I just... fuck. I don't get how you can be okay with it. It's probably because you're a fucking time player, they're always "0kay" with all the horrific doucheshittery that gets thrown at us.
[Sort of. Not really. God, when is the last time he even thought about Aradia? Pretty recently, actually. And Sollux. And...
Echoing Dave's sigh, he huddles closer. He's acting like a wiggler and he's not even sure that he cares right now; it's either that or scream or break down sobbing or all of the above. Like he's not already close to that point.]
Can we talk about something else?
[Before he loses it. Again.]
no subject
[And just like that, Dave drops it like a cooked food tuber. Having Karkat all tucked into his throat is way more important than pursuing that train of thought, or shying away from how Karkat's breathing tickles against his skin. He just absorbs it because anything that moves him away from Karkat or vice versa is inherently a conksuck idea and was probably thought up by immigrants. To distract himself, he starts drawing on Karkat's back with his finger.
It might be random shapes and squiggles. It might also be dicks. Look, Dave's comfortable, dicks just happen.]
Nice of you to be all concerned about me. When you realized something was up with me and Naoya, I mean. 'M not...used to that. Are you hungry?
[With that lovely non sequitur, Dave turns his head a little, flails blindly, knocks a thankfully closed Happiny Meal box over and then brings it close enough to smell. Mmmm. Grease.]
French fries suck cold, dude.
no subject
Sighing, he peels away a little and stares at the Happiny Meal box, his eyes narrowed. This is cheating.]
Well you're just going to have to get used to it. And yeah, I could eat.
[He glances back at Dave again, then sneaks back into nudge under his chin one last time just sort of because. It's kind of nice to be able to do that without horns in the way, not that he isn't still being very careful about how he angles his head regardless. It'd just be too fucking weird otherwise.]
You're feeling better, right?
[Dave doesn't seem like he isn't, but shut up, he's allowed to be completely fucking neurotic and ask anyway. They'd been talking obliquely about Bro, so it has to be warranted.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)