Gfdi this is total crack gomen
The sunset painted the landscape golden-brown—much too bright for Kurloz. He liked darkness, but since Meulin had always loved the light, he'd agreed to meet her in the park that afternoon. He gripped the chain of the swing with a black-gloved hand, swinging his legs to get him moving. He didn't know why he wore gloves; it was sort of automatic. Whenever he left the house, he had his whole juggalo get up on, including makeup. He only had jeans and his skeleton hoodie on, however, since it was a casual day.
He looked up to the sky. When would Meulin get here?
He heard rapping come on, and swore that it was his little brother Gamzee calling (he had a custom ringtone for his bro), but when he reached for his blackberry, he found that it wasn't ringing.
Instead, he heard a deep, honey-like voice say, "Hullo. Yeah, bro, I'm at the park—what? You said the park, man. Alright."
He trained his purple eyes on the newcomer, eyes widening. Damn. He had perfect platinum blond hair, pink lips, a dusting of freckles, and wicked black glasses. The way he held himself was flawless as well, effortless, holding his iPhone in his right hand, the other hand in his jean pocket. He sat down on one of the seats in the merry go round, and flipped his hair out of the way.
All that went through Kurloz's head was "Mother of fuck."
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be there. Fashionably late, I guess." The boy chuckled, and it was such a sweet chuckle. "Man, I'm not that good-looking!" He said his farewells and looked around the park, catching Kurloz's gaze.
The juggalo immediately looked away. Man, why was he so shy all of a sudden? He snuck a peek at him again, and saw that he was staring.
"Gamzee?"
Kurloz's head cocked up to the sound of his brother's voice. He tilted his head and shook it. He signed the spelling of his name.
"Uh—No comprendo sign language."
Right. Of course not. What was he thinking? So instead, he used his chucklevoodoos (trusted to him by the Mirthful Messiahs, all hail the Faygo!) to commune with the dude. "I'M KURLOZ," he told him, purple eyes shining. "GAMZEE'S MOTHERFUCKING BROTHER." He let go of him temporarily, to allow him to speak.
The boy didn't speak for a while, though. He stared at him with big eyes and stepped back. Finally, he said, "fuck."
He knew that he shouldn't've tried that. Damn. Where was his sense of reasoning? "YOU WILL UP AND MOTHERFUCKING STAY HERE, MOTHERFUCKER," he told him, keeping a firm grip on him. "WHAT IS YOUR NAME?"
"Dirk." The blond looked straight ahead, as if he was looking straight past Kurloz's mass of hair.
Dirk. What a handsome name. He forced Dirk to step forwards, toward him, making him kneel in front of him. What a handsome face, too. He took off his glasses and put them in his lap, looking into startling orange eyes. What a handsome hue as well. A shame that he kept them behind those sharp sunglasses. He smiled, feeling the piercings on his lips move in their holes. He fingered one of the metal rings on his eyebrow, contemplating. "SHOULD I MAKE YOU MINE?"
"Yes." His honey tone had turned to water—bland, tasteless, boring.
He sighed. He never really could take someone as his with the satisfaction he needed. Not really. He tilted his head and brought his face close to Dirk's, lifting his head up by the chin.
"WILL YOU KISS ME?"
And of course, he didn't need to wait for an answer. Dirk's lips connected with his, sending a thrilling shiver down his spine as he tasted his own magic, and the spirit that was Dirk. The fact that they were in a public park made it more exhilarating. He closed his eyes, and then closed Dirk's. Yes. This was quite nice. He pressed further, to see where the boundaries were, how far Dirk could go.
Kurloz forced his tongue into Dirk's mouth, and was happy to find that the other was reciprocating—not that he had much of a choice. He pulled away and smiled at him. The view was nice: his mouth open, eyes closed, breathing shallow. Leaning back, he snapped his fingers and let Dirk stand and open his eyes. He wondered why he knew his brother, and he'd surely find out the story once he got home. For now, he was going to make Dirk walk a few paces back, where he came from, and then release him, erasing every memory.
"Gamzee?" Dirk repeated. Kurloz chuckled and waved him away. The blond furrowed his brows and turned around, shrugging.
That stance. That posture. That hair. Those eyes. He'd never forget them. And he'd never let them go.
The black-haired boy watched as Dirk exited the park, even turning to look at him. How interesting. The boy was curious. He smirked. This might be a fun expedition.
"Kurloz!"
The high-pitched voice caught his attention, and he grinned. "Hey," he signed.
Meulin smiled back, and asked him what he'd been doing.
He chanced a glance at Dirk, and gave a small chuckle. "Things," he replied.
The girl in the cat sweater slapped him on the shoulder. "You did it again!" she accused in sign language.
He tilted his head coyly, feigning innocence.
Meulin pouted and crossed her arms. "You promised you wouldn't!"
He sighed inwardly. She was right. He'd promised, a long long time ago. Back when she caught him with that other kid, Dave. It wasn't his fault, really. All these perfect people, and he was just itching to taste their souls.
But a promise was a promise, he had to admit, and he knew he had to make up for breaking it. He took her hand, and despite her efforts to pull away, he clutched onto it. He gave her an apologetic smile and big puppy dog eyes, asking for forgiveness through his expression.
Meulin looked down at him sidelong, and put her nose in the air.
He waited. He waited as silence swept over the land and wind blew his hair up. He waited until she got so tired of standing in one position that she had to adjust her footing. He waited until rain droplets fell from the sky and she faced him.
The girl sighed, and signed, "Okay."
He stood to give her a sweet, long kiss, which she happily accepted, bringing her hands up and around his neck. His arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her up, giggling, so that they could find shelter under a large maple tree. When he put her down, droplets were in her hair and her hair was in her face. And as much as he liked blonds, he loved Meulin more.
She hugged him and he pet her hair, closing his eyes as the rain mulled over his ears, soothing him.
He pulled away and signed, "Sorry."
She nodded and gave him an Eskimo kiss. "It's okay," she mouthed.
Kurloz grinned. But that didn't mean he'd stop. It just meant that it'd be a few months before the next incident.
(A/N) Me and my friend were thinking up crack ships and I was given the challenge to write them. Bam. Thank you for reading! Do review, and yes. I am aware that Kurloz is a dick here. I apologize.
P.S. If you have a crack ship you want me to write, go right ahead. I'll see if I can write it.
Warmest Regards,
Nell