Was it day, or was it night? Nobody knew, nor did anyone care anymore. Since they've been on the meteor everyone's kind of lost track of time and stopped paying attention to it; all they would need to know is when it had been three years.

Dave Strider had always insisted his god tier outfit cleaned itself, but everyone else disagreed; he definitely did not smell pleasant. Because of this, he finally broke down to was it, but there was one problem: he had no other clothes with him. He didn't know what even happened to them, he had PLENTY of clothes before.

Oh well.

He guessed he'd just have to stand around in his underwear until it was clean. No big deal; nobody was going to see him anyway- or so he thought.

Apparently, someone else was about to do their laundry. Dave, already in his underwear, turned to leave, mortified, but that someone stopped him.

"Dave, where do you thinkg you're going?" Karkat spoke sternly.

Dave turned around to face him and just knew his face must have been really bright red.

"Dude I'm in my underwear, I'm not letting you see me like this," Dave replied.

"I'm literally seeing you like that right now, you imbecile, so fuck off, and by that I mean fuck off right back here. Give me your clothes, they smell like rotten onions."

"Nah, I'll just... come back later. Yep."

"Oh my GOD, Dave," Karkat groaned, trying to pull Dave back into the room as he started walking away, "I'm NOT doing this! Give me your clothes! You can't expect to wash it by itself, you know. That's not how laundry works!"

"Dude, piss off"

Karkat sighed, letting go of Dave. Without a word, he pulled off his sweater and his pants.

"There. We're even now, are we cool?" As Karkat said this, Dave froze, face red as an apple. So, Karkat just took off his clothes? That was a thing that really happened? Okay. That's cool.

"Fine. We're cool," Dave huffed and handed Karkat his god tier outfit, crossing his arms.

It was silent for a moment. The two of them just stood there watching the washing machine, as if there wasn't anything better to do. Who were they kidding, though? There really WASN'T anything better to do.

Karkat decided to break the silence, "So..."

"Yeah?"

"Um... do you not have other clothes anymore?"

"I did. Dunno where they ran off to."

"Oh."

Karkat picked up the clothes he took off eariler, folding it and setting it atop the dryer. Might as well not get it all dirty; that'd just be more laundry.

"...So. Can Town's coming along pretty great, huh?" Karkat spoke as he tapped on the washing machine with his fingers.

"It really is. The Mayor knows his shit, yo."

"Uh huh..."

"He does, man. You know that just as well as I do. He puts his fucking heart and soul into that shit," Dave plopped down on the floor, "Building such intricate shit from cans alone? Fuck, man. That's pretty amazing."

"You REALLY like the Mayor, huh?"

"Dude, who doesn't? And for real? That is some real moirail material right there."

Karkat couldn't help but laugh a little, "Yeah? Do you like him?"

Dave looked away, "I dunno, dude, I'm just saying I'd totally be he 'rail if he wanted."

"That's pretty cute."

"STFU."

More silence.

Karkat huffed. "...You know nobody uses acronyms in real life, right?"

"I think you meant 'IRL,' dude."

"You're missing the point here, like always, Strider!"

"Like I care?"

Karkat threw up his hands up in defeat, "Fine! Talk like an idiot, see if I care."

"Sorry."

"Whatever," Karkat crossed his arms.

Dave smirked and grabbed ahold of Karkat's hands, "Hey."

"What?" Karkat's cheeks tinted red.

"Wanna hear another acronym?"

"No."

"Nah, dude, dude, hear me out on this."

Karkat sighed and rolled his eyes, "What, Dave, WHAT?"

"ILY."

"The hell does that mean?"

Dave was silent for a moment, then pulled away from his friend, "Nevermind. Lemme know when the laundry's done, Okay?"

"Sure..."