Just something I wrote a while ago... It was a cute idea but I'll admit I didn't execute it well... Oh well. I figured I'd post it anyway, maybe someone will like it.
You don't know why you let this idiot talk you into something like this. Of all the things that you could be doing right now you are here with him. Not only that, but you have been driving for the past three hours just to get him his damn goat. Yes. You are going on a road trip across the state to buy a goat.
You and Gamzee have been living together for about a year now. The two of you finished your last year of high school together and after much debate, decided neither of you could afford to live on your own. So, you moved out of your houses and bought a small house in a shitty suburb at the side of town. It's about ten minutes from your college campus and thirty minutes from the library where you work.
It's probably for the best that the two of you stay together. He's been your best friend ever since ninth grade when he transferred to your school. While you will argue that it's because no one else will put up with him, or that someone needs to keep him out of trouble, you're actually really glad to have his company.
Anyway, Gamzee has been bugging you for the past year about getting a pet goat. You swear he's brought it up at least three times a week since he moved out of his brother's house. So after asking around a bit, your step sister, Meulin, found a small farm selling pygmy goats. Unfortunately, that farm is three and a half hours away from home.
You glance over at the passenger seat to see Gamzee fast asleep, his head resting against the side window. He's tall and lanky with long, messy, jet black hair. He's wearing a large, black jacket over a black and purple ICP shirt, and overly baggy, faded out, black, cargo pants.
You tried to convince him not to put make-up on before you left, but of course that didn't stop him. He wears clown face paint everyday to cover up the scars on his face.
He doesn't like those scars. Doesn't like for people to see them. Doesn't like to talk about them. He told you once. He explained to you how he got them. He told you how his father use to come home late at night drunk off of his ass. He told you how his dad use to hit his brother and him to take out his anger on some one. Told you how the bastard would hit him in places that no one would see.
He said his dad had threatened to cut his brother, Kurloz's, tongue out if he told. Gamzee knew that it was crazy but neither of them doubted their father for a second. Kurloz hasn't spoken a word since the accident. He blames himself for his little brothers scaring.
One night it got really bad. His father had been out drinking all night. When he got home he started hitting Kurloz. Even after the older Makara brother had passed out, he just kept hitting him. Gamzee screamed and yelled but he just wouldn't stop. He finally ran up and hit his dad hard, trying to make him quit it. That's when his dad grabbed the empty wine bottle. He hit Gamzee over the head hard, then held him down and-
You're quickly brought from your thoughts ad you see the sign, indicating where the farm is, is up the road on your right. You turn down a long driveway and make your way all the way down until you reach a small farmhouse. You park the car and remove the key from the ignition, turning in your seat to watch Gamzee sleep for a moment.
You don't know how he sleeps so much, you hardly sleep at all. Maybe it's because he does enough sleeping for the both of you? None the less, he does look really peaceful in his sleep. He's such a handful when he's up and moving.
You sigh quietly and run a hand through your coal black hair. It's not naturally black. You have to dye it every once and a while. Normally your hair would be a bright red color, but you can't stand the way it looks. You dyed your hair once in middle school, and have been doing it ever since. Gamzee keeps telling you its cute how it naturally looks, but you just don't think so.
You end up watching him sleep for another moment then sigh quietly. You quietly reach over and rest your hand on his shoulder, rasping out quietly, "Gamzee." He's usually a pretty heavy sleeper so you are surprised when his dusky brown eyes flutter open quickly and his large calloused hand comes up to rest on top of your smaller one.
He blinks a bit in confusion before his dark, half lidded eyes lock onto your own burnt, light brownish red eyes. "Ey Karbro." His voice is low and gravelly but also quiet since he just woke up.
His fingers curl around your hand slowly and you cant help but feel the corners of your mouth curl up into a slight smile. His hand is warm and comforting and as he holds your smaller one in his own you feel your heart flutter just slightly.
You hate it when this happens. You have no clue when you started feeling like this when you're around him but you just want it to quit. So when he smiles at you with that stupid lazy grin and pulls your hand down to hold it casually, you quickly pull it away.
You feel your face heat up slightly as you sputter for words for a second then stop and take a deep breath, "We're here."
He blinks at you lazily for a moment, "Where is here? You never told me bro." He says tiredly as he sit up straighter and stretches his arms.
"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, numbskull." you smile slightly as you unbuckle and look at him once more before hopping out of the car.
A few minutes later you are at the front steps of a large farm house, knocking on the door. You made Gamzee wait a good thirty feet away, not wanting to give away the surprise. After a brief moment, the door opens and the farm owner steps out onto the porch.
The owner is a middle aged man, a bit on the heavier side with brown hair that is all too obviously graying at both sides of his head. He's wearing worn out blue jean overalls that are obviously his work clothes. They have grads stains in te knees and traces of mud at the bottom of the legs. He wears a red short sleeve shirt beneath it that appears to be some sort of sports team shirt.
He introduces himself as Bill and you and he spend the next few minutes talking about pricing and how to care for the goat. He thanks you a few times for calling him in advance and for your willingness to purchase a goat from them. You go ahead and pay for the goat in advance, knowing that Gamzee will want to leave as soon as he gets his pet.
It's about another ten minutes before Bill starts to lead you and Gamzee around the house to the goat pen. All the while, your impatient room mate continuously asks over and over what it is that you're doing here only to have you shoot him down each time with a quick, "You'll see." or, "I told you it's a surprise."
Bill is going on and on trying to make small talk with you, asking about college classes or your families. You understand that he's tying his hardest to be polite, but he just seems to come off as nosy.
He does however, make one particular comment that amuses you slightly. You're half way around the house when he says, "You two make quite a pair if you don't mind me saying. No offense attended or anything. I mean you can't judge a book by its cover."
You know what he means. Both you and Gamzee wear dark clothes. You're both pale and skinny, with dark hair. Gamzee's makeup and the dark bags under your eyes from the absence of sleep that you get would easily set you apart in a crowd. Though you cant't help but imagine that the two of you together must appear a bit silly. He's a lot taller than the average male while you are a lot shorter. It must be strange to see two people that look so similar while one practically towers over the other.
Once the goat pin comes into view, Gamzee squints ahead in confusion. You can't stop a small smile from slipping up your lips. He glances at you, giving you a perplexed expression, which slowly spreads into a wide, dopey grin.
"Bro you didn't." He says to you in disbelief, eyes wide and hopeful.
You can't help but roll your eyes slightly then nod toward the pin, "Go pick one out before I change my mind."
His chestnut eyes practically shine as his grin widens and he looks ahead again toward the pin. The owner beckons the two of you over to a small gate. You approach it carefully and he opens the gate, ushering the two of you in quickly.
You move to the corner of the gate and Gamzee is immediately all over the place, watching the pygmy goats hop around the pin.
Bill is talking to you but you can't focus on his words, instead watching in amusement as the goats run around. Gamzee sits down beside a few of them and watches for a moment. You can tell he is trying hard to consider which goat to get.
Gamzee turns to Bill, asking for permission to pick them up. Once he gets the okay he turns back to the goats and extends his arms, walking after a couple of them,"Come 'ere ya little fuckers."
A short laugh escapes your mouth only to be played off with a forced cough and a glance at the farm owner. You can't stand your laugh. Your voice is raspy enough as it is, so when you laugh it sounds like you have laryngitis... or maybe that's just your opinion.
"Oh boy. You're going to have your hands full." Bill says while shaking his head slightly and smiling.
You turn your head to look at Bill. "What do you mean?" you cant help but inquire.
He just shakes his head more and chuckles, "Between that one," he points over at Gamzee who has two different pygmy goats in his arms, "and a goat. Good luck to you." He smiles.
You consider this for a moment. You never really thought of it that way; but as you do, you realize that you don't really care that it's a big responsibility. If it's for Gamzee then you'll do it. So with that thought you mutter out, "Whatever makes him happy..."
"Karbro! I got mah goats!" your best friend exclaims ecstatically.
You look back to him only to see that he has somehow managed to scoop five different goats into his arms, hugging them and grinning at you. It'd be really cute if these things didn't cost so damn much. You spare a glance at Bill who is trying to hold back laughter.
"Gamzee. No. Only one."
"Karbro how can I all up and only pick one? Look at these motherfuckers!" He lifts them up a bit higher in his arms as if you were having a hard time seeing them.
"I see them Gamzee," you sigh quietly, a bit frustrated, "We can only get one."
"A'ight bro. I got you." He hesitantly lowers the armful of tiny goats to the ground. "Karbro you want ta help me pick my goat?"
You blink over at him then shake your head a bit, "No thanks Gamzee." You smile slightly at him, causing him to smile back then turn his attention back to the goats. He looks as though he's deep in though, which is surprising for him.
Its not long after that when he walks up to you, cradling one of the miniature goats in his arms. Its covered in jet black fur with contrasting bright white patches across it.
"Did you finally choose one?" You ask him, tilting your head a bit in question.
"Hell yeah I did." he steps a bit closer, wanting you to see. "Meet my new bro. I named him Shaggy2Goat." He smiles proudly at the name that he has dubbed the small animal. "2goat, Karbro. Karbro, 2goat." He motions back and forth between the two of you with one hand, keeping his hold on the pygmy with the other.
You don't know whether to be more uncomfortable with the fact that he is introducing a goat to you as if it is human, or the fact that he named said goat after one of the rappers from Insane Clown Posse.
"Its about time. I thought we were going to be here for fucking ages." you grumble jokingly.
Bill chuckles a bit and with a few words from him, about how to care for the goat, and a short goodbye, you and Gamzee are headed back to your car.
At some point on the walk back he moves closer to you, though you didn't notice it at first.
You unlock the car and open the back door, explaining to him that you don't want his goat in the front seat while you're trying to drive. He nods in understanding then sets his new pet on a bunch of towels that you had put in the back seat prior to your departure this morning.
The goat stumbles in the towels for a moment before laying down, seeming to be tired. You guess its kind if cute... in a smelly barn animal kind of way. As long as it makes your idiot of a friend happy, you don't care.