You first met Gamzee in grade 2. Even then he was freakishly tall for his (and your) age, and your friendship was based around the fact that he could reach things that you were too short to and you could fit into the smallest spaces to pick up things he'd dropped. This ended in grade 4 when you had a growth spurt and suddenly you were the same height, not that it had lasted as he had one the next month.
Other friends came and went, mostly driven away by your anger, but Gamzee was always there. He was your best friend, and you were his. He was there for you in the best of times (year 8 when Dave Strider finally got off his high fucking horse and admitted, yes, he was gay, and yes, he had just as big a gay crush on you as you did on him) and the worst (the following year when your (extremely religious) father found out you were gay and threw you out of the house). So it made sense in year 11, after 9 years of friendship, when you started feeling something more-than-friendship for him that you two tried dating.
You went on a lot of dates, even a few group dates, but you never really progressed beyond hand holding and cuddling. You could lie for hours just wrapped in each others arms, him running his long fingers through your wild brown hair while you ranted about how Egbert had last pranked you, and you often did, but as soon as it came to kissing him, or even thinking about kissing him, your mind pulled up memories of the gangly 8 year-old that you first met and that just made it impossible. You brought it up one day during your cuddle session, apologising over and over for being unable to take your relationship to that next level. He laughed it off, saying that it was pretty much the same for him.
"Kinda hard to get your motherfucking mack on when your brain is bringin' up all kindsa memories of a short, tubby motherfucker."
"I wasn't tubby." You protested, knowing that you were and he had photographic evidence on his wall.
He'd poked your side, tickling you until you admitted that you had been.
Half an hour later you were lying on his bed trying to catch your breath while his fingers worked through your hair in a familiar and reassuring rhythm.
"…does this mean we're breaking up?" you asked.
"Nah. Just setting things right." He responded smiling lazily.
Months later you were still as close as anything, and once a week (at least) you had a cuddle session, you ranting and him just listening, but now it was purely platonic, rather than being initiated with the intention of maybe getting somewhere this time. You hadn't dated anyone since the horrifically embarrassing attempt with Gamzee, but he'd found and settled with a Mexican kid called Tavros. Things were a bit rocky when he thought Gam was having an affair with you, but you both quickly assured him that no, nothing like that was happening, been there, done that, the shirt wasn't worth the thirty bucks it cost and that was that.
Year 12 started and John 'no homo' Egbert finally admitted that okay, there was a bit of homo in there. More specifically, homo for you. You began dating and all was fine until the third Monday in a row that you went to Gamzee's rather than spending time with him.
"You're going to Gamzee's? Again?"
"Yeah. You know I do that on Mondays."
"But I'm your b-boyfriend. Shouldn't we come first?" he gestured between the two of you, his eyes slowly filling with tears.
"John, you know that I'll spend time with you on any other day, but Mondays are Gamzee's." You rested a hand on his shoulder, desperately wanting everything to be okay, only for it to be shrugged off.
"What do you even do there?" the tears were threatening to spill down his cheeks now. Shit.
"We talk. Well, I talk, he kinda just plays with my hair." You can tell by the way his face becomes even more crestfallen that that was the exact wrong thing to say.
"He plays with your hair? If he can play with your hair, why can't I?" the tears spilled, running down his face and you struggled to keep yourself from rubbing them away.
"I.. It's different. Gamzee's-"
"HOW THE FUCK IS IT DIFFERENT?" he screamed, angrily scrubbing the tears away.
"BECAUSE HE'S MY BEST FUCKING FRIEND." You found yourself shouting back. "AND HE HAS BEEN FOR YEARS."
"WHY DOES THAT MAKE A DIFFERENCE?"
You took a deep breath, not wanting to end up shouting the next bit, not wanting everyone to know.
"Do you know why I have problems with people touching my hair?" your voice seemed eerily quiet after the shouting.
"No, maybe 'cause you never talk about it, just flinch away." His voice was filled with bitterness and you couldn't help but flinch.
"You know in year 9 when I was out of school for a week?" you pause, waiting for his acknowledgement. He nods and you continue. "My dad found out I was gay, threw me outta the house, only he didn't just throw me out. He beat the shit out of me. And the reason I'm so fucking touchy about my hair? Because he pulled on it the most. Most people throw punches the most, or slap or something. My dad? He pulled hair. So yeah, I'm kinda touchy about who touches my hair. I have to trust someone a whole lot, I have to trust them with my life, before I let them touch my hair."
For a moment there's silence as he stares at you, first disbelievingly, then comprehendingly, then sadly and finally confusedly. Then he finally says something.
"Why do you let Gamzee-"
"Get to touch it? Because I've known him since we were 8, and because after my dad threw me out, I went to his place. Limped straight there. I think I actually passed out on the porch, but he took me in until I could find somewhere to stay on a more permanent basis. Because I do trust him with my life, and I have had to before."
"Y-you don't trust me?" there are tears in his eyes again, and you can't help the (slightly exasperated) sigh that slips past your lips.
"No, I do trust you, and if I wasn't me, I would probably say that I trust you with my life, but because I have had to trust my life to someone else before, I take it much more seriously than most people."
He breathes out shakily, and you hold your arms open, asking for a hug, but also, in a way, forgiveness. He steps towards you and lets you wrap your arms around his shoulders.
"Sorry I got jealous."
"It's okay." You press a gently kiss to the top of his head before pulling away. "I've gotta go, though. Gamzee'll be worried…" you trail off, uncertain for a moment whether John will be okay with you going, but he smiles and waves you on.
"Go on, but text me later, okay?"
You nod, smiling, and turn around, breaking into a jog to get to Gamzee's faster.
AN: I was gonna end it with Karkat and John breaking up, and Karkat crying over it at Gamzee's, but then I couldn't bring myself to do it.
If there are any mistakes, let me know, and my tumblr is .com if you want to give me a prompt.