You are John Egbert, now nineteen. Four years ago had seen the end of the game. It hadn't been a pleasant experience for anyone. At first, the initial shock of coming home and not having to watch your back at every drop of a hat had been startling. But you'd eventually eased into it, and riled your nerves down. Once you'd settled back into a vaguely, semi - normal lifestyle, you'd started texting Dave more often again. At first, he hadn't been very receptive of them. He'd ignored them, or responded with staccato, prickly, short sentences that left you feeling a little cold.

Then two weeks from the day you'd started texting him every morning, your phone rang. You'd ignored it at first — after jumping at the noise and readying yourself with your computer's keyboard for any oncoming attacks — but when it didn't stop, you picked it up and answered it. Dave hadn't spoken. In fact, he hadn't done a damn thing. And since you hadn't thought to check what the name was on the ID, you almost hung up. But then you'd heard the tapping.

After at least seven times of making confused noises, you had made out that it was Morse Code. And that it was Dave. He hadn't pointed it out blatantly, but the way he called you Egbert, and the way he worded his request for you to just talk … You'd known.

And you'd talked. About nothing at first. The weather, the town in its little uproar about a robbery that had happened somewhere down the street … Little things. It'd eventually evolved, somehow, to how one day, you would have to go down to Texas, and rent a horse — " Do they even do that? They have rental places where you can get a horse, right? Like, ' fuck all y'all's cars, we got hawses! ' " — and ride down to his house in leather chaps — " Bet you'd like to see my ass, huh, Strider? " — and a ten gallon hat with some fine ass cowboy boots, and sweep him out of his bed, throw him on your horse, then ride off somewhere. Nowhere really. And just get away from the stress of life. " We've earned that … "

The call had seemed to open up the floodgates that the return home had padlocked shut. Dave was texting you again — even first, sometimes — and the walls of red text that flowed on your screen sometimes was enough to astound you. Despite the bittersweet undertones to some of his jokes, Dave seemed to be okay, for the most part. Occasionally he'd slip up.

He'd even cried once. Said that he'd come home from school, threw his bag off, and had kicked off his shoes, and plopped on the couch. Expected that after twenty minutes of being a lazy slob, Bro would come out, drop his bag into his lap, and tell him to get cleaned up. You made him call you, as much as he protested, and you'd talked to him for awhile as he choked back sobs and sniffles, until he'd calmed down. Until you could feel his smile, and hear the silent laughter.

Today, you'd gotten another surprise. One you'd expected less than seeing Dave Strider fall apart in your hands. You'd stepped out onto your porch, and elicited a shrill yelp that had sent you stumbling right back into the house, over the shoes and onto your ass.

A ball of black and gray had lain curled up on your porch, and as you watched, began to unfurl as the small figure sat up, rubbing its head. It had taken you awhile. A long while. Embarrassingly so. But then it snapped on, like a rattlesnake suddenly lunging at and biting into your leg. That was Karkat.

Karkat.

Fucking.

Vantas.

Was on your fucking porch.

" How … "

" Fucking GODDAMNIT, John … ! "

The explaining had been ridiculously chock full of things you couldn't get your head around. And the longer he'd actually tried to lay it out for you, the harder you'd found it to understand. Eventually, in his frustration, he'd slapped his hands against the table, and dropped his head down on the backs of them, and sat there in sheer frustration and frothed.

The rest of the month had been a chaotic mess. Karkat had known human etiquette from watching you — as creepy as you found that to be — but exercising it wasn't something he'd come prepared to do. Even now, he still doesn't seem to understand some of the basics you'd think even a two year old could exhibit. But he'd been doing his best, you'd have to give him credit for that.

… But, then again, you think as you hear something shattering in the kitchen with a string of curses as a follow up, maybe it wouldn't hurt to bring out the spray bottle again. ( And as weird as it might be to spritz water in the face of an alien who had declared not toolong ago that he might be flushed for you — if that's what it took to get things done … )

" … What'd you do now, Karkat? " you call back over your shoulder with a vague hesitation. You're afraid of the answer. Especially since he's been snapping at you about pronouncing his name strangely. You can't really help that he has a strange way of emphasizing the syllables. It doesn't really fit any word you've ever heard in the English language — or any other human language for that matter — and it was hard to keep in mind. You think you got it this time.

" … … Nothing. " The reply was far from convincing, especially since you could hear the little troll scrambling to scoop up what sounded like broken porcelain. Another bowl broken. You needed to get him a stool or something. Seeing as he was only about five one, he still had some problems reaching the shelves.

You pull yourself up out of the chair, closing your laptop in the process — Dave, and your work, could wait until you assisted Karkat with whatever was going on in the kitchen. As you expected, he's crouching on his bare toes over a pile of the broken remains of a bowl, with a few larger shards resting on his sleeved arm against his chest.

" Here. " You step over to the sink and grab the washcloth you usually used to dry off the dishes, and stuck it under the faucet with a nod to the trash bin. " Drop that in there … "

He cringes, looking a little bit guilty as he rocks back onto his heels and stands himself up, but without a word, he shuffles over to dump the pieces he's collected into the garbage. " … Sorry, " he mutters, and his voice almost makes you want to turn around, scoop him up off his feet, and hug him to your chest and nuzzle the back of his head while he purred and fought against your attention.

" Hehe, it's — it's okay, " you say instead. Mess first, cuddle your stupid dorky alien almost - boyfriend later. You shuffle backwards, then move to kneel down and start wiping up the area with the wet rag, much to Karkat's confusion.

" … Why the Hell get it wet, you're just gonna get the floor wet, " he grumbles as he inches back over. The way he walks, with his hands hidden in the long sleeves of his sweater, and his head down, dragging his feet reminds you of a child. A guilty child that wanted nothing more than to crawl into your lap and cry against your chest in apology for the little things they've done to upset you.

" Uhmm. " You lift your head, and give him a toothy grin as you swipe over the area one last time. " When it's wet, the glass sticks more. So, like, instead of just pushing the glass around, it clings onto the towel. That's all. "

Karkat stares at you, silently for awhile, but then he shrugs and moves to plop down in the chair you bought for him, and watches you in silence as you cross the kitchen to shake the towel off into the trash.

" … John? "

That serious tone. You hadn't heard it in awhile. You snap your attention back over to him, and blink. " Uh. Yeah … ? "

" Have you … " He trails off, and his brows furrow as he drops his head again. You could swear you could see a soft shade of red dusting his cheeks through his hair. " … thought about it … yet? "

You know you're stupid when something that should be obvious like this confuses you. But once again, it smacks you in the back of the head like a volleyball at the beach. " UH. " You clap your hand over your mouth. Well, that was a little louder than you'd intended. " I … Well. "

I'm not a homosexual, Karkat.
Why the fuck does that matter do you so much?
I just, I mean, I'm not attracted to pe — uh, a human male's equivalent to your bulges —
And how the fuck do you know that?
Huh?
You fucking heard me, how do you know that?
… I, uhm, I just assume, uh, it's kind of … the same way?" … Kind of? "

Suddenly yellow eyes are fixated on you, and you feel a tightening in your chest. … Shit. " … Well, then? "

" … I … " You take a deep breath, then exhale slowly. " … can try, but I don't really promise anythi— "

The sound of the chair hitting the floor cuts you off, but before you can even react to that, there's suddenly a weight smashing into your chest and making it near physically impossible to respond in any coherent manner.

… Well, that seals the deal. You may not be a homosexual, but you are now officially able to say you have a dorky, angry midget alien boyfriend. … You're not sure how you feel about this. Somewhere between giddy and … a little put off. Hrm.

— — — —

" John. "

" Hold on. "

" … … John. "

" Karkat, I said hold on … "

" … Earth to fucking John Egbert. "

You almost slam the phone down against the table in frustration as you turn around. " What — " But then you see the book in his hand. … You almostregret giving him your library card. He's been bringing books around to ask you about the stupidest little things, and sometimes you really wonder if he's genuinely unsure of it — because surely even Alternia had to know what some of these things were — or if he just wanted your attention.

" … What? " you ask, this time in a more calm manner. You really did have an appointment to be booking for college, but you could spare five minutes. You set the phone on the table, then turn to him more fully so he understands you're willing to offer him that time.

When he's sure you're not going to shoo him off, he sits himself down near you in his own table. " Uh. " Then he pushes it toward you. It's only now you actually notice what the fucking book IS. And … now you really, really regret giving him access to the city's public library. And a bike. And a backpack. " … The Hell is this about? "

What To Expect When You're Expecting.

" … Uhh … Why — … Why did you get this? " you ask slowly, carefully, as you scoot the book toward yourself and pick it up. You flick your eyes upward, then back to the cover. He looks disgruntled, and … well, it's kind of cute, oddly enough.

" I wasss … " He shuts up, and you hear an audible thunk as he drops his head on the table. You predict that he's blushing, a lot. And a glance under the table confirms it — you've learned in the time he's been here that he pulls on the hem of his sweater sometimes when he's embarrassed, as long as you can't see it. But something he always does, no matter what, is rub his left foot on top of his right foot. And he's doing it now. " … checking out some books … abouthumandatingand … . "

His words come out in an almost impossible - to - make - out slur, but you think you got the gist of it. " Oh. Er, well … hehe … " You bite your bottom lip, and duck your head sheepishly as you think of how to explain pregnancy. After your almost - rejection of him, Karkat had decided to show you how difference his bulge was from yours. ( You'd both been a little horrified at the discovery of each other, and that had been more than enough for that night as far as the showing went. But everyone knows Tell comes after Show, and you'd asked about their grubs. So you know now he has no idea how it works for humans at all… )

" You know how I was, uh, totally confused about how you guys … reproduce? "

He gives you a bland stare. " You're confused about pretty much everything about our culture. "

" Shut up, you're confused about ours, too, and you've apparently watched thirteen years of my life, dude … ! " You frown at him, and he simply narrows his eyes, then motions pointedly to the book to change the subject.

" Okay, whatever; anyway … " You lay the book down, then lean forward against the desk with a sigh. " So, you saw my, uhh … bulge … " You quirk your mouth slightly, and try to think of how to explain things. " And, erm, girls are more like … I guess they've got more like a nook … ? "

He cocks his head, then nods slowly. He already got mostly used to the fact that you didn't have one, so maybe he'd be easily receptive to the fact the girls had them instead. … If he isn't, he seems to be playing along okay, because he just gives another slow, uncertain nod.

" Okay, and, uhm … Well, when a boy and a girl … get intimate — " You stop at the look he gives you. " … … f .. ill … a pail … ? … they, uhm, don't really use a pail. Instead, the, uhmm … the … God, our genetic materials stay in the girl instead, and … I don't know about your guys' insides, or how the Mother Grub even has the babies, but … a baby grows inside of her stomach, like … "

You grab the book and thumb through it until it shows a clear picture, then press it across the table to him.

" … like this. And, in nine months, a baby is born. "

He stares at the picture as you talk, a look of slow, and immense horror taking over his features. " Wh … How the frothing FUCK … " His gaze lifts to yours, and despite yourself, you feel a slow grin tugging at your lips.

" So, Karkat. Wanna find out if — " Your phone ringing interrupts you. You fish it out quickly enough to see there's a text from Dave. He usually bugs you on Pesterchum, even when you're just signed on mobile. " … Wait, hold on. "

Pulling up the text application, you lean on the table, and glance to it. It's short, quick, and already worrying.

dave : uh hey bro are you busy right now
dave : or like can you call me
Me: uh? yeah, sure, bro, hold on.
Me: i'm talking to karkat right now, i guess he found a pregnancy book …
Me: i'll call you in like two minutes, okay? :)

You glance up to Karkat, who seems to have gotten more curious than you thought and began thumbing through the book. When he notices you looking, he flusters and slaps his hand over the page he was looking at and fixes you with a look. " … What? "

" Uhm. I'm gonna go call Dave. We'll talk more about babies and stuff later, okay? " You offer him a timorous grin, then push the chair back, and pick up your phone, heading for the back door. " You can read if you want, in the meantime. "

" … Hurry up. " Then he shrugs, and moves his hands to go back to his reading.