Work Text:
People learn many things about Gamzee Makara when they meet him.
They learn he stands a mighty, unstable 6 and a half feet tall. Thats the very first thing.
Unless you hear him before you see him. In which case the first thing you'll learn is how much he uses the word
"MotherFUCK!"
And how he always says it like that. With the first bit the build up and the second bit the explosion of emotion which leaves his face twisted in shock or joy or anger or every other emotion.
He's six and a half feet of extremes. His extreme height and extreme hair and extreme language make him a repellant for any sane stranger. His extreme grin and extreme concern and extremely careful nature make him an excellent friend. Or thats the theory.
Most of the time, people will then learn that he is always smiling. Always. He will ALWAYS find something to grin about, wether it's "Ehey, Karbro, those pigeons are makin' out." or "Oh, motherFUCK, Tav, look at the leaves on that bitch!"
It's almost impossible not to smile in his presence. Unless, of course, your name is KARKAT VANTAS, in which case it is ENTIRELY POSSIBLE and you are a DAILY EXCEPTION to his rule.
You learn he's never seen an albino before and he asks why your skin's all pale like that shit.
Asks why God made you that way.
Asks if you've ever gotten lost in a snowstorm.
He gets so well schoolfed he almost chokes on knowledge spitting out at him.
-=-=-
Sitting in class with him you learn far more than the syllabus. You learn that he spends thirty seconds staring at the board before he turns to dream off out the window for how ever long the teacher makes him stay. You learn that whenever he raises his hand it'll be to ask a question which leaves you reeling as to how the hell did he possibly get that from that window and this lesson.
"Sir, who invented arms?"
"How do squirrels feel about dogs?"
"When did dragons up an' extinct their own selves?"
You learn that he isn't trying to wind people up with the way he speaks. He's trying to figure the world out. He genuinely wants to know why they called it Red Bull when the drink isn't red. He's actually curious about if grass has nerve endings. It is a legitimate concern of his as to whether trees can communicate with each other.
You learn that you are his 'brother', regardless of your gender, age, culture, or how much you like him.
For most people it stops there, and they're glad of it, but for a few who can withstand his eternally grinning greasepaint-smeared exterior it goes further.
They learn that his father is a devout Evangelical Christian who totes him to mass every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday.
No, not that church led by Rev. Vantas. No, see, that's the sinners church. And he has to run past it on the way to school in case the heretical leader comes out and starts throwing bibles (or as Mr Makara calls them; "lie-bles") at him. Rev. Vantas said hello in passing once, but Gamzee's dad made sure that would never happen again.
They learn that under his tie-dyed shirt he wears a string of rosary beads with a tiny crucifix hanging from it.
They learn that when he's staring at his food before eating it he's saying grace.
They also learn that he knows how to make absolutely NOTHING aside from key lime pie, which he never gets tired of. Not even after thirteen years of knowing how to make it and seventeen years of eating it, he still loves the stuff and will make it at every opportunity you present him with.
Karkat learns never to leave Gamzee alone in his kitchen. EVER. Because he will produce limes from absolutely nowhere and start making pies. Plural. He will use up ALL of your sugar and flour and make a 'motherFUCKING' mess. He looks like a kicked puppy when you tell him that no you don't want one of his FUCKING PIES.
You learn that it's very difficult to stay mad at Gamzee when he doesn't know he's done anything wrong.
You learn that he had a nanny who showed him how to make lime pies.
You learn that he had that nanny because his father wasn't at home a whole lot.
You learn that when Gamzee's hurting he hides behind wide painted smiles and jokes which only make sense in the moment, that he tries to distract you with more incessant questions without leaving room for you to wonder about him.
You learn that an octopus' stomach is shaped like a donut and its brain goes up through the middle.
You learn that butterflies taste things with their feet.
You learn that if someone is incapable of keeping their fucking fingers off a healing tattoo scab then the lines and colours don't come together properly and that it IS possible to make a capricorn tattoo look like a flaccid dick.
You learn that Gamzee's dad thinks horoscopes are witchcraft and he's not allowed out the house for a week or two.
You learn that laser tattoo removal is not only expensive, it also feels like "your motherfuckin skin is up an crispin off your bones".
You learn that talking about crispy skin makes Gamzee crave bacon.
You learn that McDonalds stops serving bacon sandwiches at 11am.
-=-=-
Apparently Elephants undergo menopause.
And along with this information and a lukewarm coffee at 8:30 on a Sunday, you learn that Gamzee Makara has been kicked out of his house.
Last night his Father learned about him and the son of that cowboy, how they've been sneaking makeout sessions behind the dunkin donuts at the local park instead of Bible Study and the whole thing is a massive cliché.
Of course the whole town learned this weeks ago, but there was an unspoken agreement in big mental letters saying DO NOT TELL MR MAKARA THAT HIS SON FUCKS BOYS because as much of an asshole as Gamzee is, nobody deserves the wrath of a vengeful devout Father saving his childs soul with carbolic soap and crucifixes.
You're tempted to say that it was the Nitram father who told Gamzee's dad. It would be a one-up. It would be the final boss battle end sequence to cap off all the sniped comments and glares they shot at each other. The bar fights. The vandalism. The makeouts held in back alleys up against graffitied walls which Mr Nitram crows about and Mr Makara denies with an unholy ferocity.
But you know the mowhawked cowboy wouldn't do anything to hurt Gamzee, even if it did leave Mr Makara gasping and floundering for answers like a beached whale. Mr Nitram's been looking after that kid since Gamzee was signed up to the same kindergarten as Tavros, sneaking extra sandwiches and juice boxes into his own son's lunch box for him to share at snack time. Because that kid was fed on month old fruit rollups and soda.
You wouldn't trust Fenrir Makara to keep a pet turtle alive, never mind a child.
And you learn that the logic behind Gamzee's executing the big reveal himself that night is about as heartbreaking and mismatched as you'd expect it to be.
Tavros has just gone out of town for a week with his family, so if ("if") Gamzee's dad got angry then he wouldn't be able to take it out on Tavros. Who's safe on the other side of the state.
You want to slap the empathy out of him and tell him to think about his damn self for a change, but instead you gather him in your arms and learn that Gamzee's very good at crying quietly. You sit at the bench for a few minutes before he tells you he ain't got no place to go to, and it's snowing.
You learn your dad always has a spare bedroom made up.
-=-=-
How did it take you this long to learn that Gamzee Makara can't read?
The long periods of distraction in lessons should have been an indicator but you thought that was just him being a distractible dickwipe.
He sucks up what other people say like a shitty shit sponge which never gets saturated, and then over breakfast the next morning you learn that his dad home schooled him until he was twelve.
You never ask what he learned from his dad when he was homeschooled, because you have an inkling it wasn't a whole lot.
You're pretty sure it breaks your dad not to take a dust buster to him but he's a guest, and when you tuck in to your most important meal of the day you learn he's used to saying grace over a musli bar, not scrambled eggs and bacon.
He nearly cries.
And when you accompany him to The Miraculous Evangelical Church where he wants to go talk to his pastor you both learn that he's been put on some sort of unholy watch list and they won't let him past the big metal gates which separates the sacred from the sinners.
He's scared when he first approaches your fathers church. It may not be Evangelical but he's assured he can worship however he feels most comfortable so long as he doesn't disturb mass. It's all the same God.
He chuckles like theres an inside joke you're missing out on and you sit next to him on one of the worn smooth pews at the back of the hall and watch your father give a sermon, wondering when Gamzee's going to burst into flames or start speaking in tongues. The only thing out of place you notice throughout the sermon is that he looks a little confused by the hymn book.
THATS how you learn he can't read.
But he sits back and enjoys the words anyway, and at the end as everyone filters out you learn he never knew church could be so harmonious.
-=-=-
Tavros learns a whole fucking lot when he comes back from his Grandma's house.
He learns that Gamzee can condense all 6'6" of his gangly ridiculousness small enough to fit onto his boyfriend's lap, providing the situation is desperate enough. Apparently 6 days of homelessness accompanied by being disowned by both family and church is enough desperation for him to huddle down small like a child in Tavros' lap.
You bet he could condense down into a Gamzee patty if Tavros asked him to.
But of course he doesn't ask anything of him, holding him close and cooing to him with sweet words as he strokes back his hair which is smooth and curly with the honey scented shampoo you've been MAKING him use every night this week, trying to stock him up on cleanliness.
Mr Nitram is on the scene in minutes, and you swear he has some sort of "Fenrir Makara fucked up" radar because he has tissues in his pocket and arms long and strong enough to drag both boys into a hug.
Of course he can stay with him. As long as he likes. He's got a home with them, always has done. A warm bed to share, and Gamzee gives him a watery smile like he's never heard of such kindness before.
Fucking idiot.
You watch his life being rebuilt, people taking care of him, learn that there isn't a single person in his life who wouldn't unite with him against his father. It's like watching an RPG team congregate to defeat the boss battle and rescue the Gamz.
You have a mental image of Fenrir Makara as an Elder Dragon. It's not a stretch.
You want to slip out when they start hugging again, let them leave quietly and let him heal over the open wounds the past week left him, but he's grabbed you in his arms from out of nowhere and his chin is propped up on your head.
"Thanks, bro."
His words are quiet but theres none of the joking tone he hides behind. Its all heavy genuine words and coming from him you don't think you've ever heard him so serious, even as he nuzzles into bleach pale hair.
"For everythin'."