Nous et Eux

by irl-alfed

One thing you love to do is simply lie down underneath the covers beside Gamzee and run your fingers through his hair. You swear you could make sculptures out of that long, curly mess without even trying.

One thing you love to do is simply lie down underneath the covers beside Gamzee and run your fingers through his hair. You swear you could make sculptures out of that long, curly mess without even trying. You estimate that, without the spiraled curls, his hair would go down to his ass. There is just so much of it. And you love it.

So sometimes when it's time for bed, you'll barricade yourself underneath the covers and barely peek over the edge of your eight-inch thick wall of blankets to watch him undress and change into a pair of cutoff sweats. Then he'll climb into bed next to you and smile, kiss your forehead, and wait to see if you turn over and dig your nails into the kelp forest that rests atop his head.

Here you lie, moving his freshly washed hair up above him onto his pillow. This helps you sleep, and plus you think he looks exceptionally cute when he's dozed off in front of you. You hear him start to snore lightly and feel your scowl quickly being pried up into a smile, a giggle bubbling up out of your throat, burning like lava. Jesus, what was that? That wasn't like you. You are goddamn Karkat Vantas, indignant and cynical lit roman candle, not some obnoxiously happy prepubescent schoolgirl. You don't giggle.

But, unfortunately, you did giggle; and this woke your juggalo from his light slumber. His eyes lazily flutter open and his spacey smile plays across his face slowly. You sigh in your mind. He didn't exactly hear the laugh, and that's good. But your relief is short lived, for you are being pulled into his chest by his strong arms and now it's hard to reach his hair. You grumble and settle into his grip, feeling one of his hands rest on the back of your head and one find its place in the middle of your back. He burrows his nose just barely underneath the side of your face, his body curling backwards slightly, taking you with it. His cool skin soothes you as well as his steady, relaxed breathing, and as you begin to drift away for sleep to find you, you feel his large fingers running through your short, cowlick-ridden hair. Oh, how the tables have turned, you tease yourself, letting your arms tighten around Gamzee's torso. You exhale through your nose calmly, feeling exhaustion beckon you into a deep, comfortable rest.