Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The game continues for a while, but eventually everyone gets bored and splits into groups to socialize. Karkat continues to hold Dave's hand as he stands, mostly because he forgets to let go.

"Beer pong outside!" Nepeta declares. Karkat gives her a smile and doesn't protest when he feels someone press up against his back, long, gangly arms flopping over his shoulders as Gamzee leans on him. His best friend rests his chin on Karkat's head, and he rolls his eyes.

"I need another shot," Karkat tells Dave. "Wanna play beer pong after?"

—

"Fuck yeah," Dave replies, still holding Karkat's hand, if a little loosely. He's wobbly but in otherwise good shape. "Should I take a shot with you? Is he gonna come with us?"

'He,' referring to the guy he thinks is called Gamzee. It's rude to speak about someone in the third person when they're right there, so he clears his throat and introduces himself.

"The name's Dave, I dunno if we've met before. 'Sup?" Dave won't be weird about it, but Karkat puts up with a lot more physical stuff from Gamzee than his other friends, and Dave can't help but wonder why.

—

Gamzee raises his hand and gives a lazy wave.

"Not much, brother," he says from above Karkat, still using him as a chinrest.

"This is Gamzee," Karkat says, gesturing vaguely with his free hand. He looks up, tilting his head back, and Gamzee looks down. His eyes are hooded and he's wearing a vacant smile. "You coming?"

"Nah," Gamzee says. "Gotta get back to the boyfriend. Catch you later."

He withdraws, ambling back over to Tavros. Karkat pulls Dave toward the kitchen, intent on that shot.

—

Hearing Gamzee say the word boyfriend sends a confusing wave of relief through Dave. As Karkat drags him to their next deliciously alcoholic destination, he wrinkles his brow, trying to dissect the feeling. It's soon forgotten after Karkat starts pouring them both drinks, sloppy but generously, which makes him worthy of being president of Earth, as far as Dave's concerned.

Karkat hands Dave another shot, smiling, and Dave warmly, fuzzily smiles back.

—

The shots are taken with only a little alcohol sloshing over the rim, and then Karkat leads the way outside. He'd used both hands to pour their drinks, but he links their fingers back together with hardly a second thought. 

"How good are you at beer pong?" he asks curiously as they step into the warm air.

—

"Sober? Excellent," Dave replies, trailing slightly behind like a baby bird. They find the game table, and Dave stumbles into Karkat due to the handholding, but Karkat seems to take it in stride.

Nepeta announces that they're up against Sollux and Eridan, who seem like they want to compete with each other more than Dave or Karkat. Which definitely works in their favor — Sollux may be stone-cold sober, but the bickering between him and Eridan seems like more than enough of a nerf.

—

Oh, this is fantastic. Sollux and Eridan are more likely to strangle each other than work together, and Karkat isn't too terribly drunk just yet. They've got this.

Nepeta passes them a ball and declares the game started. Karkat takes a shot and, by some miracle, lands it into a cup. He didn't even need to let go of Dave's hand.

How long can he keep holding his hand before it becomes weird? Dave would say something if he wanted space, right? Though with the way he's swaying, he might not even be aware of his hand in Karkat's.

—

Karkat sinks one ball and then misses spectacularly with the second. Dave whoops anyway. Eridan doesn't sink any at all, and Sollux hisses, "Way to go, you fucking half-wit." 

Nepeta frowns and sends him to fetch the ball for poor sportsmanship, starting an extremely early point of order.

Dave feels a little sick — not majorly, but he has been pushing it. Sollux hands him the little plastic sphere and he poises to throw it, earning the usual side comments about being left-handed.

But then his stomach lurches, and his right hand flies up to cover his mouth, which is filling with the good old pre-vom spit. He mumbles, "ohfuckberightback," and makes a beeline for Nepeta's trash bin.

—

Karkat is waiting on Dave to throw the ball, but then he takes off, ripping his hand from Karkat's with a mumbled string of words. It takes Karkat's brain a few moments to catch up, but then he's right behind him, following to the garbage as Dave pukes violently. He rubs a hand up and down Dave's back, the motion familiar.

"We should get you some more water," he says. He spies Feferi nearby and waves her over. She gives Dave a sympathetic look and goes to fetch a water bottle.

—

Dave heaves until his stomach is empty and hangs over the garbage until he feels steady again. Karkat rubs his back comfortingly through all of it, and when Dave's finally good, Feferi hands him a water bottle.

"Thanks," he says to Feferi sheepishly, uncapping the bottle and taking a lengthy draft. Then he makes the mistake of looking at all his sick in the bin. "Eugh, that's always so fucking nasty. Why's it feel so good going down and so evil coming back up."

He can't look at Karkat; it's too embarrassing. "Sorry I lied to you 'bout how I wasn't gonna puke. Someone should lock me up for popped collar crimes."

—

"It's fine," Karkat says. His hand is still resting in the center of Dave's back and he doesn't see a reason to remove it. "It's not really a party unless someone's vomiting into the nearest puke receptacle. Do you think you could eat something? It might help settle your stomach."

He pushes Dave forward gently, steering him back into the kitchen. He doesn't hesitate to start looking through the fridge for something to make.

–

"Maybe not right away," Dave says, still feeling queasy. He's also feeling a good drunk wall sit, but he leans against a table instead and watches Karkat rifle through the fridge. "Aw dude, you don't have to get anything for me. I don't wanna be the prick that pilfers Nepeta's precious provender at the party." The last bit of his remark comes out a mess. "Haha, damn. Say that one five times fast."

–

Karkat gives Dave an amused glance as he pulls some items out of the fridge, though Dave probably can't tell because of the shades. 

"Sit down, idiot," Karkat says, and he'd be embarrassed by the affection in his voice if he weren't still buzzing with alcohol.

He sets to work making a simple grilled cheese for Dave, and after it's on the plate, he makes one for himself, too. A couple people wander in and out of the kitchen during this, but no one comments on him making himself at home in someone else's house. They all basically live in each other's pockets anyway.

"Here, try to eat a little," he says, pushing the plate into Dave's hands.

–

Doing what he's told is one of the things that Drunk Dave does best, so he slides into a chair and watches Karkat cook. Mom friend, he thinks again, swaying in his seat to music bleeding in through the screen door.

Before long, Karkat hands him a grilled cheese sandwich, which he sets himself to dutifully. It's crunchy and melty and greasy, just the way he likes it — it's really fucking hard to hold back moans of appreciation, so he doesn't even try.

"What the fuck?" he says incredulously. "That's so fucking delicious. How did you even do that? What'd I do to deserve you always feeding me?"

–

Karkat sits across from Dave and takes a bite of his grilled cheese. It tastes good, but it is nowhere near deserving of the sounds Dave makes across the table. He tries to ignore it, his face hot. 

"You're just drunk," Karkat tells him. "Everything tastes better when you're drunk."

What did Dave do to deserve Karkat feeding him? He walked into the cafe with hunched shoulders and a downtrodden expression, holding his stupid notebook. Karkat looked at him and his stupid hair and douchey shades, and his heart tripped over itself. 

"You're so skinny," Karkat says, instead of all that. "How am I supposed to not feed you? You clearly don't do it yourself. "

— 

Dave laughs, spewing a few crumbs.

"You sound like my old lady neighbor when I was a kid. She'd always give me a pack of ramen and an apple when she saw me in the hallway 'cause she knew I didn't always get dinner. Sometimes she had those fla-vor-ice freezer pops too. You think they still make those things? I swear they were like a hundred popsicles for eight dollars."

–

Karkat frowns.

"You didn't always get dinner?" He asks. He remembers the scars, how Dave said that he's safe now. He assured Karkat that no one was hurting him anymore, so it's okay. But Karkat doesn't know if he believes it. "This isn't making me want to feed you less."

—

Karkat's expression catches Dave off guard, like he's not having fun anymore. Dave puts down the sandwich, suddenly feeling awkward and guilty for sharing something he thought was positive.

"Uhh… yeah, no, but my school gave me free breakfast and lunch, so it wasn't a big deal. Got enough nutrients to grow an okay brain and hit five-nine," Dave says super casually, trying to save the conversation. God, even drunk, he's still a bummer.

"Please don't feel like you have to feed me. I should return the favor sometimes; I've been moochy basically the whole time we've been friends, and that's not cool." 

–

He didn't even get fed at home. Did Dave have food on weekends? Holidays? Anger surges up in him and he has nowhere to aim it. He takes some deep breaths, like his therapist taught him. 

"Don't worry about it," he says, shaking his head. "Being annoying and overbearing is what I do best. I don't feel like I have to feed you. You're just--"

He cuts himself off, unsure how to explain the protective instinct that Dave makes rise up in him. 

"Don't worry about it," he says again. "I'm not doing anything I don't want to. "

–

Now Karkat just looks upset. Holy fuck, Dave really is the worst drunk. And the way Karkat cuts himself off, saying that Dave is just, just what?

Just fucking sad? Dave hopes that's not the answer. He doesn't know what he'd do if he found out Karkat only befriended him as a charity case.

Dave rubs his thumb back and forth over a chip in the ceramic, trying to pick his next words carefully.

"Y'know, I'm not actually all that tragic. John fed me in high school too. And I have absolutely no complaints if you wanna keep supplying me with snacks. The second quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach and all that. The first is through the ribs. I'll pay ya back eventually."

He smiles — not his most winning attempt, but it's good enough for government work.

"If we ever get drunk together again, I'll cook you something that truly whips ass. I make a pretty mean fried rice. I can also make egg drop soup to further demonstrate my value."

–

Dave looks upset, even though he smiles at Karkat. Jesus, he's such an asshole. He can't even let Dave enjoy being drunk at a party without bringing him down. And the mention of Dave's shithead boyfriend just makes him feel worse. 

"Sure, if you really want to," Karkat says, trying to look a little less sour. "I'm actually a giant fucking hypocrite. I don't really cook unless it's for someone else. I live off frozen meals and takeout, mostly. So I won't say no to some homemade food."

He tries for a smile, not sure he manages it.

–

"Definitely better. Water ain't a bad idea, though." 

Nothing Dave says seems to make Karkat any happier — but Karkat wants him to eat, so he starts munching on the sandwich again and hopes that'll help. He wants them to go back to playing games and shooting the shit.

"How's your buzz? Vivo o muerto? I'm guessing the latter. If I'm a good lil sandwich boy and finish all my food, can I split a shot with you?"

–

Dave starts eating again and something in Karkat relaxes at the sight. He gets up to fetch Dave another water bottle before retaking his seat.

"Yeah, it's pretty dead at this point," he says. A little smile tugs onto his face. "But sure, if you're a good boy and eat your dinner and do your homework, we can do more shots."

If Dave wants to keep drinking, Karkat isn't going to stop him.

–

The sandwich strategy pans out; Karkat looks at him with softened features again, and Dave makes a mental note to watch his mouth more closely, even if he is drunk. He wants Karkat to see him like anyone else at the party — normal, fun, and easy to be with. He doesn't want to be Dave, who is too much, but when he's with Karkat, he feels like he can be himself. 

(But then he says too much, bums Karkat out, and he's unsure if he could handle going back to John being his entire world.)

Karkat agrees to take more shots with him, and Dave salutes him before cramming down the rest of his meal. While Karkat looks for clean glasses, Dave finds the tequila. Or rather, it finds him — Vriska thrusts the bottle into his hands as she makes her way to the bathroom without sparing him a glance. 

Eighty proof, not bad. Dave taps Karkat's shoulder and brandishes the bottle.

"Thoughts?"

–

Karkat looks at the bottle and shrugs.

"Not my usual choice, but if it gets the job done, who the fuck cares," he says, placing the glasses down with a loud clatter. Whoops. But they don't shatter, so no harm done.

He's feeling a little better knowing Dave has food in his stomach. He even took a couple more sips of water to placate Karkat. 

"How drunk are you aiming to get?" he asks curiously. Dave's earlier plans seem to have gone out the window, and Karkat wants to know if he should try to keep up or throw in the towel now.

–

Dave licks his lips and thinks hard about the question. 

"'Bout this drunk, plus one," he replies. He still feels pretty drunk, but he'd really like to get back to that satisfying level of stupid and happy that gets him out of his head. If he can get there, he'll enjoy it for as long as he can and then accept it wearing off, not chase it to the hospital.

He turns the bottle over in his hand and decides he likes 'one more drink' as a stopping point.

"I'll cool it after, I just wanna take the last little bit of skull and crossbones juice with you 'cause you're my favorite person here. Oops, that's kinda fucked up to say at someone else's birthday party, huh. Nepeta's the bomb too. What's your target level of drunk?"

–

Karkat's heart flips over itself at that. It doesn't really mean anything, of course. Dave barely knows anyone else here. But it still makes heat rise in his cheeks.

"I might grab a beer after this," he says. "And if Nepeta insists, I'll do another shot with her, but she's probably forgotten all about us by now."

He looks out the window, but the angle is all wrong to see what his friends are getting up to. He doesn't hear any screaming, though, so it's probably fine.

–

"Doubt she's forgotten," Dave replies, glancing out the window as well. Karkat's just a bit too short to have a clear line of sight. Dave catches Nepeta's eye and she waves like an inflatable tube man from her perch on Equius's shoulders, enthusiastically beckoning to them.

He waves back and then pours the shots – a whole one for Karkat and a half-tequila half-water for himself. Their fingers bump when he hands Karkat the glass, sloshing it slightly over Karkat's knuckles.

"Oh shit, my bad."

–

Their fingers bump together like a clumsy retelling of Karkat's romcoms, and his heart skips a beat. That wasn't on purpose. Dave is not flirting with him. He's just drunk, and he has a stupid shitty boyfriend who he loves anyway. Karkat should be glad Dave's even interested in being friends.

"'S fine," Karkat mumbles, throwing back the shot with a grimace as Dave does the same. "You wanna head back out there? Or we could see what those idiots are up to in the living room."

–

"Out," Dave replies confidently. He chases the shot with even more water, straight from the sink, and fills another cup to-go. Karkat nods, and Dave ambles after him, baby bird style, back to his friends.

Just as well, too – the sun has started to set. After some fiddling under the deck furniture, Sollux emerges from behind a cooler and clicks a remote, revealing crisscrossing fairy lights across Nepeta's backyard.

–

When they go outside, Karkat's eyes immediately go to Vriska and Terezi, huddled together near the shed in the backyard. He squints their way, suspicious, but is distracted by the lights flickering on.

"Nice," he comments. Nepeta looks charmed, hands clasped together and lights reflected in her eyes.

–

Again, Dave is struck by the normalcy of the scene. People laugh and crack open beers, and Dave waves clumsily back at someone whooping at his triumphant return from puking his guts out.

Karkat leads him to some deck furniture, where Dave plops himself onto cushions.

Dave feels happy to the point that it almost feels wrong. Like living your whole life without being hugged, getting one for the first time, and having it feel so nice that you feel devastated that you've lived so long without experiencing one.

He scrunches his eyes shut and wills away the thought for a few hours more. When he reopens them, Sollux hands him a glass of water with strikingly kind disinterest.

Terezi and Vriska reenter the circle with devious grins, synchronously proposing —

"Truth or dare part two?"

–

Karkat groans at the chaos sisters.

"One wasn't enough for you?" He grumps. But Dave looks interested, and Karkat is just buzzed enough to allow himself to be dragged into this stupid,  juvenile game once more. 

Nepeta cheers when he agrees and practically launches herself into his lap. He catches her with a grunt, scowling and bitching quietly even as he gently pats her shoulder. 

"Alright, assholes, let's do this then," he says.

–

"Thank you, Karkitty," Nepeta effuses, leaning back into him like he's a La-Z-Boy recliner. After settling, her bright eyes dart toward Dave and she beams. "Dave, truth or dare?"

Dave's drunk face turns slightly redder. It figures she wouldn't let him escape without answering a truth, so he responds accordingly.

"Truth," he replies, grinning. "That's what you want, right? Consider it a birthday present."

–

Karkat can't see her face, but he can feel the mischief rolling off of her. He squeezes around her waist in warning, which she ignores.

"What's your boyfriend like in the sack?" she asks.

Immediately there are guffaws from his friends, and Karkat chokes on his spit.

"Nep, what the fuck," he says. She cackles, sounding a lot more like Terezi than herself. "C'mon."

"Okay, okay, I'm kidding," Nepeta says. "What's the nicest thing someone's done for you?"

This question earns her a few boos, but she only waves her hand like she's shooing away a fly.

–

Dave smiles mischievously back at her. 

"Is that what you really wanna know? I'm a vulnerable fucking open bookstore right now, brimming with the hottest commodity of all, information, and if the peanut gallery allows, I can give you a BOGO."

–

Nepeta wiggles happily with excitement, completely forgetting she's using Karkat as a chair, and he promptly pushes her to the ground. She grunts, staring up at him with wounded eyes. He stares back with no remorse.

"Answer both!" one of the girls demands, successfully bringing attention back to Dave.

"Yeah, both!" Nepeta agrees, sitting up with a grin, displeasure at Karkat forgotten.

–

"Okay, the second question first," Dave says, making a dramatic yet entirely useless hand gesture. "This requires a smidge of backstory."

"Well, my twin sister and me, we were spontaneously conceived in a Dave & Buster's restroom and then got separated at birth, Parent Trap style. She and our fertile myrtle Teen Mom lived in New York, while our ex-D&B employee Teen Dad and I stayed in Texas. But after thirteen years of that, Mom decided to get another place in Texas, so Rose ended up at the same middle school as me, and we finally met. I used to sit solo at lunch because I thought it was badass to be a loner, but she insisted on sitting with me, and eventually, her Lovecraftian tentacles wormed their way around my tender heart like platonic tentai.

"Then she helped me realize that I wasn't sitting by myself because I was too fucking cool for other people, but because I was afraid that I was lame and sucked and didn't want to give people the opportunity to realize that I sucked. Which she said wasn't the case. So it was nice of her to sit with me, and to help me realize that I don't totally fucking suck, and that I should be more open to having friends."

Dave pauses, then looks up at Karkat fondly.

"Sometimes I still need help remembering that, and Karkat kinda does that for me now too."

—

Karkat gets why Dave wears these stupid fucking shades now, because he goes from bewildered at Dave's childhood to sympathetic at Dave's aching loneliness, and he's glad to have something to hide behind. The soft look Dave sends his way has him startling, though, and there's no way to hide that behind sunglasses.

"Oh," he says quietly, feeling his face heat. A number of the gathered group are grinning at him pointedly, though Eridan looks put out. 

"Enough sap!" Vriska groans. "Answer the first question."

—

"John," Dave begins, then pauses, then sighs. "John, John, John."

He dramatically plucks a half-drunk PBR from the ground by Terezi's feet and takes a long draft. Then he burps and smacks his lips.

"John," he says again, in a trailing, contemplative voice.

He thinks hard and ultimately shrugs.

"I guess he's okay. I don't have any other point of reference." Dave taps his fingers idly against the side of the can. "High school sweethearts and all."

—

Karkat's eyebrows furrow and he frowns. That doesn't sound like something someone madly in love with their boyfriend would say, but Karkat is admittedly biased against John anyway.

"What, you've never had sex with anyone else?" Nepeta asks, surprised. "How young were you two when you got together?"

—

"Hmm, I think I was, uhhh." Dave's forehead wrinkles as he strains to remember. 

"I'd just started high school when we met, so I was thirteen or fourteen, probably. Fourteen by our first date, definitely. And he was probably seventeen?"

Dave takes another drink, then settles deeper back into the cushions.

"Then he was about to turn eighteen, so we had to have sex, y'know, while we were both minors."

Dave's voice diminishes in volume throughout his last sentence, and he finishes with a loud slurpy sip.

"What're y'all's body counts, then? Someone's gotta make up for me. Something something feminism and sexual liberation."

—

A rare stillness falls over the group. When Dave stops talking, the only sound left is the wind and the distant sound of crickets starting to cry out.

"What?" Karkat finally manages to spit out. Rage makes the edges of his vision dark, imagining Dave as a tiny, underfed fourteen-year-old, lonely and neglected, taken advantage of by a fucking adult. 

He's going to rip John apart.

—

Everyone freezes around Dave, and Dave— 

He doesn't like it one bit. He also doesn't know what to do, so he finishes the beer without making eye contact with anyone, then fiddles with the tab.

"What? I know it's not ideal, but it's what happened, and I liked him, and it's my life. This is what my life is."

He gestures again in a dramatic, uncoordinated motion, hoping to smooth the mood.

"Okay, I answered both questions, looks like y'all gotta drink?"

—

"Not ideal?!" Karkat repeats, voice too loud. "Not fucking ideal?!"

Nepeta stands abruptly, grabbing Karkat's wrist and yanking him to his feet.

"We'll be right back," she says, giving a tight smile. "You guys keep playing."

Karkat isn't able to do anything but let himself be tugged along behind her into her house, grinding his teeth and shaking with anger. She leads him to her bedroom and closes the door, an unusually somber expression on her face.

"Breathe, Karkat," she says.

"He was fucking--" 

"I know," Nepeta says, grabbing his shoulders. "We all heard him. But you can't yell people into acceptance, Karkat. You know that. So breathe."

Fuck, she's right. Karkat takes a deep breath, counting to ten in his head before letting go and repeating. Jesus, he really just almost fucking backslid into a tantrum, didn't he? His therapist is gonna be disappointed.

It takes a few minutes, but when he feels more stable, he drops heavily onto Nepeta's bed and grabs at his hair. Nepeta pats him gently on the shoulder.

—

Following Nepeta and Karkat's departure, everyone seems even more awkward. Dave feels his entire being flood with shame and self-disgust, and he squirms in his seat, wishing Karkat hadn't left. Or that Karkat hadn't been the most disgusted of all.

Does Dave have to stop being friends with everyone now? He guesses he forgot somehow, but this is what happened when he told Rose and Jade, and neither of them would speak to him for ages after. And he wouldn't talk to them either, feeling hurt that they couldn't just be happy for him.

Dave pulls the black hoodie tighter around himself and continues trying to look casual. Feferi floats over to sit with Dave and drapes her (always a bit cold) arm around his shoulder.

"Drink your water," she says kindly. "Eridan, truth or dare?"

—

It takes a bit longer for Karkat to wrangle in his anger for him to feel comfortable heading back out. Nepeta slips her hand in his and squeezes, then leads the way back outside, where Eridan and Sollux are arguing loudly about something. Gamzee catches Karkat's eye and tilts his head, and Karkat can almost hear his voice saying, you good, best bro? Karkat shrugs, which seems to be enough for the lanky boy to relax back into his seat.

No one comments on their return, and Karkat sits next to Dave, careful not to encroach on his personal space in case Dave's pissed at him.

"Hey," Karkat says lamely.

—

When Karkat rejoins, he leaves a wide berth between them, making Dave's heart sink an inch lower than he previously thought possible. He really wishes he had his shades back, but it would be even more awkward to ask for them back.

"Hey," Dave replies, just as lame, unable to bring himself to look anywhere but at the can in his hands. He feels Feferi glance at him, squeeze his shoulder comfortingly, and then pull back, re-engaging in conversation elsewhere.

"Uh… you seemed kinda riled, man. Did you wanna talk about that?"

—

Karkat grimaces, shoulders slumping. Dave won't even look at him. He really fucked this up.

"Sorry," he says, tongue nearly tripping over itself in his haste to apologize. "I really fucking made an ass of myself. I'm just--hearing that my friend was taken advantage of really pissed me off, but it's not your fault I have anger issues."

God, if Dave thought he wasn't an asshole before, he most certainly does now.

—

"I'm sorry for always being such a fuckin' downer. I don't mean to be this tragic fucking specter that constantly ruins stuff with my big mouth," Dave mumbles, still avoiding eye contact, setting down his can and reaching for his water again. "My vibes just suck shit 80% of the time. I get it if you don't wanna be my friend 'cause of this."

—

"What? No!" Karkat hurries to correct him. "Dave, you've had some awful shit happen to you. That doesn't mean I don't wanna be your friend."

Hesitantly, Karkat leans into Dave's space. He bumps their shoulders together.

"I'm sorry I freaked out. Do you want to head home? I won't be mad if you wanna get out of here. I'll pay for an Uber or something," he offers. He doesn't want Dave to leave, but also wants him to know he has an out if he needs it.

—

Karkat's shoulder connects gently with Dave's, giving Dave the courage to look back at him. Through the lenses of the shades, Karkat's deep brown eyes are worried but earnest, and it's bizarrely easy for Dave to believe Karkat at his word.

"An Uber would be a nice 'Get Out of Fail Free' card," Dave says slowly. "Not gonna lie, I feel like I just excreted in my fucking pants in front of everyone by talking about my mundane-ass sex life. But if it's still cool for me to stay, I'd really like to."

—

Tension leaves him all at once, his shoulders slumping with relief. He didn't fuck this up too bad, then, if Dave isn't looking to leave at the earliest opportunity.

"Of course you can stay," Karkat says. Taking a chance, he leans more heavily against Dave's side. "No one's mad at you or anything, I swear. We're just--an age gap like that when you're so young is really fucked up. You know that, right?"

He looks at Dave earnestly, willing him to understand.

—

"It wasn't illegal," Dave says, feeling somewhat dead inside. "Romeo and Juliet laws. I mean, if our ages were swapped, I wouldn't have done what John did, but my situation was complicated and fucked up anyway."

He draws his legs closer to himself to feel more secure, careful not to jostle Karkat.

"He's not a bad guy. I didn't feel taken advantage of, I felt loved. If you met him, I think you'd understand."

—

Dave is withdrawing into himself, curling up smaller. Karkat's heart breaks in half and he doesn't know how to fix it.

"Just because something is legal doesn't mean it isn't wrong," Karkat says, as gently as possible. He gathers his courage and reaches out, taking Dave's hand in his own, loose enough that Dave can jerk away if he wants. "Even if you felt loved, even if you wanted it, he should have waited. A fourteen-year-old shouldn't be having sex with a seventeen-year-old, Dave."

He takes a deep breath, trying to keep his anger at bay.

"It's not your fault," he says. "And I'm pretty sure if I ever met your boyfriend, I'd deck him without a second thought. You deserve better." And, to stop Dave from immediately defending his shithead, he adds, "But it's your relationship, and I'm not gonna try to fuck that up for you. So. Yeah."

—

Dave takes a few moments to process Karkat's words, his hand in Karkat's, and the sudden, all-consuming heartache he feels— a sadness in his chest swells up so large that he imagines his ribcage straining around it.

If he felt loved before John stuck his dick in him, he doesn't know what he's feeling now that Karkat's saying John shouldn't have done it.

His gaze flickers down to Karkat's mouth, but he snaps it back when he catches himself, feeling more than a little confused and overwhelmed.

—

Dave doesn't say anything, but Karkat doesn't mind. It's a lot, he knows, especially since he's pretty sure no one has told Dave how fucked up that was. He squeezes Dave's hand.

"It's alright," he says. His voice sounds strange to him, too soft to really belong to Karkat, but there it is. "You wanna go take another shot? Or we can join the chucklefucks in their stupid game again. Whatever you want."

—

Karkat squeezes Dave's hand again, and Dave's reminded of why he asked Karkat to hold his hand in the first place -- because Karkat makes him feel safe and wanted and human.

Like John used to.

"I'm down for another shot," Dave says almost immediately after being prompted, grateful for the diversion from the thoughts suddenly threatening to blow up his psyche's center of operations. "Dealer's choice."

—

He smiles, standing up and pulling Dave to his feet. He should probably let go of Dave's hand now, but he really doesn't want to, and Dave doesn't seem to mind.

"Alright, let's go see what's left," he says.

There's an abandoned tequila bottle on the table where they'd played beer pong earlier, though a shot glass is nowhere to be seen. Karkat shrugs, taking a drink from the bottle and grimacing as he passes it to Dave.

—

Dave accepts and takes a long, burning sip of tequila with a straight face. When he's finished, he sets the bottle down with way too much panache and blatantly watches Karkat to see if he's impressed. He even squeezes Karkat's hand to prompt a response.

—

Karkat's nose scrunches and he stares at Dave in disbelief before laughing.

"Seriously? Nothing?" he asks, shaking his head. He swipes his thumb over Dave's knuckles. "Are you so drunk you can't taste anything? Maybe we should get you more water."

—

"Nothin'," Dave says, heart skipping at Karkat's laugh and the tiny, tender gesture. "If my mom were here, she'd give me a high five."

He takes a subtle deep breath to steady his heart rate. Karkat's not trying to— to be *romantic*, Dave tells himself. Dave's feeling everything kind of intensely at the moment, and he's the one who started the whole handholding business anyway.

"While you were gone, there was basically a conga line of people giving me water, so I'm dandy. You, on the other hand…."

—

Karkat tilts his head at the little nugget of information about Dave's mom but doesn't comment. There's a sweet little blush high on Dave's cheekbones, where it would normally be hidden by the sunglasses currently on Karkat's face. He kind of wants to lift his hand and trace his fingers over it. He kind of wants to bite it.

"I could use some water," he admits instead.

—

"Lucky for you, I know where to get some," Dave brags, focusing very hard on getting his head back on straight.

He tugs Karkat clumsily back into the kitchen, obtains a large mug from who-knows-where containing who-knows-what, rinses it under the tap, and then fills it to the brim. He gifts it to Karkat, whose hand he regrettably no longer holds, and then decides it's time for another floor sit.

"Drink up, my precious little sapling," he instructs inanely from the linoleum.

—

If it was Nepeta or Gamzee, Karkat wouldn't hesitate to crawl into their lap. But it's Dave, and Karkat doesn't want to make him uncomfortable, so he plops next to him and leans against his side. He takes a drink of water, washing the taste of alcohol away. 

"Sorry if I fucked up your night," he sighs.

—

Dave's stomach twists at the mood dropping again -- but he feels Karkat's weight on his shoulder, and it feels weirdly safe to be unhappy.

"Mm," Dave replies pensively, glancing over at Karkat. "S'okay. You didn't do anything wrong. Turns out my whole life is fucked up, and it's just awkward to talk about."

He half-heartedly holds out his fist to Karkat for a bump.

"But hey, at least we have alcohol!"

–

Karkat rolls his eyes, but bumps his fist against Dave's before winding their fingers together. 

"Yeah, at least there's that," he says.

–

"Yeah."

Dave chews roughly on his lip, a nervous habit more than anything else. He stares at Karkat's fingers, interlinked with his, the way John's fingers used to but never do anymore. With John, it felt like a gesture to convince Dave of something, to persuade, to insist, or to humor him – but with Karkat, it's different, like he doesn't want anything more out of it than to just hold Dave's hand. Like that's good enough for him.

And it's different for Dave, because he might want more out of holding Karkat's hand than just holding his hand. But he doesn't know what that is, and he feels sad, confused, lost, and wanting.

"Hey, Karkat?"

–

Karkat hums, watching his thumb rub over Dave's knuckles.

"Yeah?"

–

Dave realizes he doesn't know what he wants to ask. He takes a moment to sift through everything he's confused about and eventually identifies his most burning question.

"Do you think there's something wrong with me?"

Fuck, the sound of himself asking that is just violently cringeworthy. Dave looks away from Karkat, takes a deep breath, and tries to redeem the humiliating soundbite.

"I feel like, statistically, I shouldn't have had this many spectacularly unfortunate experiences by this point in my life. Which leads me to think that, I don't know. There's something about me that invites it. Or I deserve it? Or on some level, like unconsciously, I'm maybe even asking for it? I guess it's easier to think that instead of, oh wow, my life sucks this bad completely randomly, and I'm cosmologically destined to be a miserable fuck with a shitshow life forever."

He pauses to gnaw at his lip again, dangerously close to causing a bleed.

"Or maybe this is just a self-indulgent pity party, and my life is pretty good, and I'm just being ungrateful, actually."

His hand starts to tremble in Karkat's.

"But that doesn't feel fair either. I know I didn't deserve to get wailed on every day after school. And I thought there was something special about me, like being 'mature for my age,' that made it okay to get into a relationship with John. But I look back, and I don't think I was any different from kids my age. But also, John fed me, helped me run away from home, told me he loved me and gave me flowers – so I thought, yeah, there must be something special about me, for once. And I'm still in a relationship with him, and I still love him, and we're both adults, which makes the age gap less of a big deal. And now I'm finally starting to have my own friends. So I should be happy. But I'm not? Fuck. This is a lot. I don't know. Is there something wrong with me?"

–

Karkat chews on his lip, heart breaking in half as Dave talks. He squeezes the shaking hand in his and wishes he could just pull Dave into his lap and crush him into a hug.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with you, like, intrinsically," he says after a moment. "I think you've been hurt and fucking traumatized and probably learned some really shitty things that helped you survive the environments you were in, and you probably need a bunch of therapy to unlearn those and figure out how to be happy and healthy."

He flips Dave's hand over, using his other hand to drag his fingers along the lines on Dave's palms.

"You don't deserve to be hurt, Dave," Karkat says. "Not physically or emotionally or any other way. It's not your fault when people hurt you."

–

Karkat's words ring in Dave's ears but ultimately just bounce off. Dave thinks he's wanted someone to say that to him for a long time and desperately wishes it were true, but he can't believe it. Karkat would need to know him better to be sure that Dave's not overreacting or just getting what he deserves. For all Karkat knows, his life could really just be stupid games, stupid prizes.

Dave is quiet and still -- tired and drunk and upset with himself for not feeling moved by Karkat's attempt to comfort him. He doesn't notice Karkat manipulating his hand until he actually looks back at it, seeing but not feeling the other boy's fingertips skating across the ridges and calluses of his palm.

He exhales heavily and slumps against the cabinets, resting his head on Karkat's shoulder.

"My life's a fucking mess, and I don't know what to do about it, Karkat," he mumbles, words thick in his throat. "Any advice?"

–

Karkat hums thoughtfully. Dave's hair tickles his neck and jaw, and he resists the urge to nuzzle into it.

"Do you want to actually know what I think you should do, or do you want something you'll agree with?" he finally asks. He doesn't pause in playing with Dave's hand, drawing a finger up and down each of Dave's digits.

–

Dave's brows draw together, wrinkling his forehead. 

"Why do you say that?"

–

Karkat huffs out a laugh, but there's not much humor in it.

"Because I doubt you'll appreciate the honesty, let alone take the advice," he says. He curls his fingers between Dave's and leans his head back, closing his eyes.

–

That gets a wry laugh out of Dave. Karkat actually knows him pretty well, after all.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Dave admits. "I'm kind of a dickhead like that, huh. Rose says the same thing to me all the time."

–

"Your sister?" Karkat recalls. "You guys talk a lot?"

He hopes they do, hopes that Dave has someone in his corner, a support system. But his stomach is sinking just waiting for the answer, turning everything he knows about John over in his head.

—

"No, not really," Dave says, not thinking much of it. "We had a big agree-to-disagree years ago, and things got awkward. But we're talking more recently."

—

Karkat bites the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything shitty that might make Dave feel worse. This situation is too delicate for someone like Karkat to handle, when all he wants is to shake Dave by the shoulders until he sees sense.

"That's good," he says instead.

–

"Yeah, I guess," Dave mumbles, sinking further into Karkat's side. The last shot is hitting, and the tension building up in his shoulders and back is fading away again. When he can't find a good position, he resorts to curling sideways, draping a leg over Karkat's and resting his head on Karkat's chest.

–

Karkat blinks his eyes open as Dave shifts, gaze softening as he leans his head against Karkat's chest. He reluctantly lets go of Dave's hand to slip his arm around Dave's back and pull at him until he's more securely in Karkat's lap.

It feels so fucking right, having Dave cuddled up to him like this. Karkat can't even bring himself to feel guilty about it, but that might be the alcohol talking.

–

Dave's eyelids feel heavy, but he doesn't want to sleep yet. If he sleeps, that's time travel to the party being over and likely a splitting headache, and he also won't get to savor how comfy he is right now.

He'll compromise by closing his eyes but trying to talk for as long as possible.

"So that's all my shit," he informs Karkat flatly. "What's going on with you? Like, what's your deal lately. This is your opportunity to be vulnerable without shame because you can't possibly body yourself harder than I have. 'M here to support ya."

He hears someone enter the kitchen, make a noise of surprise, and immediately back out. Dave's got no clue as to who, and no fucks to give about it either.

–

Karkat doesn't open his eyes, leaning down to rest his cheek on Dave's head.

"Lately? Not much," he says. Obviously he can't tell Dave about his big stupid crush, so instead he says, "Most exciting things I've done lately is hang out with you and see Terezi again."

His heart clenches weakly at the mention of her. He'd hoped to catch up with her tonight, make sure they were okay again, but he can do that another time. When Dave isn't tucked against his chest, warm and comfortable.

–

"Little old me, exciting?" Dave snickers. "Glad I can help get your adrenaline pumping."

Karkat radiates so much *warmth*, and his soft build makes him exquisite to nap on. Must resist.

"'Again,' implying that she isn't always hanging out with y'all? Pardon my gossip-seeking homosexual tendencies, but," Dave takes a second to yawn, "say more?"

–

"Mmhmm," Karkat says, not bothering to stop his soft smile at Dave's yawn. "It was pretty awkward for a bit after I made a complete fucking fool out of myself and we broke up. We spent a lot of time avoiding each other. Splitting custody of our friends. That kind of shit. 'M glad it's over, though. I missed her."

–

"Oh fuck, that sounds excruciating. Guess I've never thought about that stuff since I've never had a breakup, and my friend group has always been infinitesimal. Glad to hear things are better between you two now, though, because 'rezi seems like a top-shelf *frau*. I didn't even know you dated before tonight 'cause to the uninformed eye, there's nary an awkward beat."

Dave pauses, eyes fluttering back open with concern and sudden self-awareness.

"Although… maybe I shouldn't be all up in your lap if your ex is here," he says, face heating up again. "Not that this is anything but platonic. But uh, I don't want bro cuddles to make shit awkward for you."

–

Karkat scoffs, ignoring the ache that spreads at the reminder that Dave is very much not interested in him romantically.

"Don't worry, Terezi couldn't care less," he says. "She broke up with me."

It doesn't sting the way it used to.

–

"Her loss," Dave replies simply, burying his face in Karkat's chest once more. "Fuck, I'm tired. And it's been ages since I got to drunk cuddle with anyone." Another yawn. "Glad it's you, dude. Hope you like kitchen floor 'cause I'm cozy as shit."

–

Her loss. Dave says it so easily that Karkat could almost believe it.

"You planning on falling asleep here?" he asks. He runs a hand up and down Dave's back, hoping it's not the thing that pushes Dave too far.

–

"Fantastic suggestion. Accepted. Goodnight."

Dave shamelessly fucking facenuzzles into the polyester of his own bomber jacket, only half as-a-bit, incredibly pleased with his shenanigans.

–

Karkat laughs, shaking his head fondly. Dave rubs his face against his chest, and Karkat could die happy right here, but he knows they'll regret it later if they do fall asleep here.

"Alright, sleeping beauty, hold on," he says. 

It takes some awkward maneuvering, but soon Karkat is hefting himself to his feet, Dave held in his arms in a bridal carry. He stumbles and almost sends them both crashing to the ground, but he rights himself at the last moment. Dave is heavier than anticipated, but Karkat is able to get them to the living room and deposit him on the couch.

–

Dave remains blissfully unaware of the danger while in transit to the couch. Upon delivery, he claps like idiots on planes and says, "Wow, hot." Then he wriggles deep into the cushions and pats the space beside him. "All yours if you want it, buddy."

He hears Vriska snicker in the background while Gamzee slurs, "Don't forget to kiss the homies goodnight!" 

–

Karkat's cheeks flush, and he hopes it can be excused by the exertion. He takes the seat Dave offers, lifting his arm up in invitation in case he still wants to continue their drunken cuddle session. He can feel eyes on them but doesn't look away from Dave. Karkat's sure he'll hear all about how pathetically obsessed he is from his friends later, but for now, he just wants to enjoy being close to Dave.

–

Dave clumsily nestles into Karkat's arms again, enjoying the motion of the other boy's chest rising and falling against his cheek. It's so fucking nice to feel safe and secure, being able to firmly believe that he's cared for and wanted around — Dave isn't sure if he's really ever felt like this before.

–

Karkat is distantly aware of time passing and the chatter of people, but his focus is on Dave in his arms, breathing slow and steady. He's a warm, comforting weight against Karkat's chest, and it's easy to fall into a light doze, his hand starting and stopping its motions on Dave's arm as he drifts in and out. He can't remember the last time he felt so content.

Eventually, there's a hand on his shoulder. He blinks his eyes open to peer up at a smiling Nepeta.

"Things are winding down," she tells him. He glances around the room and sees a handful of people asleep already, on chairs and on the floor, covered with blankets Nepeta must have dug out of her closet. "You two gonna take the couch?"

–

"Mhh," Dave says eloquently, nodding with his eyes shut. He rolls sideways out of Karkat's arms and into the fetal position on the couch.

Nepeta regards the scene fondly and places blankets and pillows by Karkat's feet. Her face is drunk-dopey but bright. She audaciously ruffles Karkat's hair before gliding away, already whipping out her phone for discreet communication.

NEPETA: :33 < thought oyu werent gonna make a meowve karkitty
NEPETA: :33 < pawsibly the cutest thibg ive efur seen in my life h33h33

–

Karkat watches Dave curl up fondly until his phone goes off. He grudgingly takes it out of his pocket and squints at the screen.

KARKAT: I FIDN'T MAKE A MOVE
KARKAT: HE'S A CUDDLY DRUNK I GUESS
KARKAT: AND HES TOUCH STARVED AS SHIT

"Dave," Karkat whispers. "You comfortable there?"

He's curled up in the middle of the couch, which doesn't give Karkat much space. But he can sleep on the floor. The sofa is too small to share, anyway.

–

Dave gives another bleary nod and a fleeting, heavy-armed thumbs up. 

"Unless you wanna trade," he says in gently slurred speech. "Or get real fuckin' snuggly." He takes a moment to adjust Karkat's hoodie where it's ridden up his torso and yawns again.

–

Karkat wonders briefly if that's a joke, but he's too tipsy and tired to talk himself out of saying, "We've been pretty fucking snuggly all night, Dave. C'mere. I don't wanna sleep on the floor."

–

"'Kay," Dave replies, effortfully propping himself back up. He stares at Karkat's face for a few seconds with an expression like a human loading screen and then remembers what he wants to do.

He slowly reaches for the stem of his sunglasses, still on Karkat's face, fingertips unintentionally brushing hair by Karkat's ears.

"Can I have m'shades back...? They gotta be..... put somewhere."

–

Karkat had completely forgotten he was wearing them.

"Shit, yeah, here," he says, reaching up and taking them off. He blinks around blearily before he folds them carefully and leans over, placing them on the table by the arm of the couch.

"Good?" he asks.

–

"Good." With his concerns assuaged, Dave attractively scratches his ass. "We doin' hole to hole, hole to pole? Whomst is which spoon… could stack too, I s'pose… el-em-ayo."

–

Karkat's nose scrunches in disgust.

"Stop saying hole," he demands. "Christ. Just fucking... come here."

He lays down and tugs Dave with him, back pressed to Karkat's chest, Karkat's back against the couch. His arm curls around Dave's waist, and his stomach feels wonderfully tingly. 

"Okay? Don't feel like you're about to face plant on the floor?"

–

"'M safer than a password-protected diary in a fireproof safe, in an airtight vault inside a concrete-filled oil drum draped in padlocks at Fort Knox. When you said snuggly, you meant snuggly. Like damn. This dude is secured like the president's on the premises."

This ramble would have been impressively lucid on Dave's part, if not for being inaudible and nigh incomprehensible.

–

Karkat has no idea what the fuck Dave is saying, but he hopes it's good. He can feel the rumble of Dave's back as he speaks.

"You're mumbling," Karkat says, giving Dave a squeeze. "Nod or shake your head, dude. Comfy?"

A moment passes, and Dave nods. Karkat squirms, getting comfortable himself, pressing his nose to Dave's hair.

"Good," he says, closing his eyes.