Sleepy Karkat's are indeed, the cutest thing John has ever seen in his life.
They had been lazing about in John's room, a rather uneventful evening as John finished up homework, and Karkat had been... Well, John really didn't know.
Which was never a good thing. Ever. Because Karkat must be supervised at all times, need he do something completely moronic, like trying to cut open the mattress to realy make sure there isn't any sopor slime inside.
So, John looks over his shoulder, only to see Karkat napping on his bed. Not that he minds, he thinks it's downright adorable, but he knows there's no sopor slime to keep those freaky "sleep rages" from occuring, and this is a fact that worries him.
"Karkat."
The troll doesn't budge from his curled up position upon John's bed, his breathing much quicker then John's, like a small animal. Maybe a cat would fit the description, with the way he's coiled up on himself, his knees nearly against his chest. It looks rather uncomfortable, actually.
"Karkat?" He tries again. The owner of said name does not move.
John heaves out a sigh, leaning back in his chair. He knows if he waits for it... waits for it...
There's a jolt of springs, a hiss of a breath, and a shifting of fabric-on-fabric in the silence of the room as Karkat awakes from his few minutes' rest, orange eyes darting around the room like he doesn't know where he is.
And then he's calm. It's an eerie type of calm though, like when someone cries their eyes out and then just suddenly... stops. It's enough to make John glance over at his bed, sitting up in concern when he sees Karkat sitting up, knees tucked under his chin and arms holding his legs close to him.
"Karkat?" John tries once more.
Orange eyes slowly sweep to the left to glance at him, before quickly darting away. It's almost like a shy action, one that makes John smile the tiniest bit, until he remembers Karkat's resisting the urge to flip his shit, and he quickly frowns again.
John sighs as he watches the Cancer troll on his bed, his sides expanding and collapsing quickly in time with his attempted-calming breaths. He looks downright miserable, curled in on himself like that and staring at the wall with a death-intended glare. If only looks could kill, Karkat would be a mass murderer, to say the least.
The human swivels his chair to face Karkat more fully, chewing on his lower lip in thought. There's no sopor slime on Earth, (thank god, because it seems like some Troll-type of marajuana.) and John's never really been the person to cheer Karkat up when he seems ready to rip out his own eyes.
"Humans are stupid."
John jumps at Karkat's rough voice, blinking at him with wide eyes. "That doesn't seem very "culturally sensitive," Karkat."
The troll curls in tighter upon himself, his piercing orange eyes visible just over his arms as he mumbles into his knees.
"No sopor slime, not even fucking piles to sleep in! You humans are so completely and utterly pushed by your stupid "peace" hoofbeast shit that your natural violent tendencies aren't even part of your fucking genetic structure anymore!"
He rants and rants, but John is only staring at him, mouth agape in realization. The pile thing, of course! Karkat had mentioned it before, when they were watching a movie together in the living room. He'd taken nearly all of the sofa cushions and the blanket draped over the back of the couch and buried himself in them, and John had even noticed how much more relaxed he seemed at the time. The human felt rather ignorant for overlooking that.
So John gets up from his seat, looking arond for a moment before stepping closer to his bed, patting Karkat gently on the shoulder.
"Can you get up for a sec?"
Karkat glances at him, his face screwed up in a look of disgust at the fact he's being told to move, mumbling a cold, "Fuckass," as he gets up and stands beside the bed.
John's too busy stripping his matress of its blankets and sheets, yanking them off in a couple of jerks before throwing them onto the floor. He tosses his pillows on top of the bedding, then walks quietly over to his closet. There, he's pulling out jackets and shirts and throwing them behind him, hoping they're landing in the pile he'd begun.
After he's sure there's nothing else considerably comfortable left in his cloest, he turns back around, only to grin like an idiot with the sight of Karkat rolling around in the mess of cloth. A nuzzling, purring, blushing mess on the floor, grabbing handfuls of whatever's there and rubbing it all over his face as he wiggles his back into the floor, like a cat trying to make itself comfortable on the floor.
John simply watches for a few more moments, before getting down on his hands and knees to crawl over to the estatic-looking troll, sitting with his knees folded under him once he's next to Karkat. He watches as the other boy throws his head side to side in time with his body rolling about; the way he seems to grin when a particularly loud purr tramples out of his mouth.
He gurgles some weird clicks and trills, Alternian words no doubt, as he snuggles up against John's pillow, facing said human with half-lidded eyes and bright crimson cheeks as his smile fades to a calm curve of his lips. He's still purring, but it's a cut-off, shallow sound now.
"How's that?" John asks, tilting his head to match the angle Karkat's looking at him.
The troll nods, his cheek nuzzling against the fluffy hood of a jacket as he does so. John smiles quietly at him, and before he can even notice, his hand's reaching out to set itself comfortably on Karkat's head, the gap between his thumb and index finger nestled up against a small candy corn-colored horn.
And the reaction is instant.
Karkat's back arches towrads the boy, his talons digging into the pillow he's got wrapped up in his arms as John begins scratching near his horn, like one might around a cat's ears. His lips part in an explosive purr, chirps and playful growls added in when he jerks his head up into John's hand, wanting more attention from his palm.
The human, however, simply beams at this reaction, and assumes it's due to Karkat's lack of sleep lately. Not having slept in nearly two weeks must have taken a toll on the other, even if he claimed he'd "dealt with much fucking worse conditions."
"You must be exhausted," John murmurs, scooting closer so he's sitting beside Karkat in the pile, the troll nudging his face against the human's knee in an almost-affectionate action. The boy continues rubbing his hand in ink-black hair, brushing it side to side, in smal circles, and up and down. It's course under his hand, but it's a welcomed feeling. The warmth of Karkat's blushing cheek against his leg is also welcomed, as much as it is extremely cute.
He trills in happiness and lethargy, the troll, his nuzzling slowing rather rapidly as he curls himself up about John's legs, the pillow still enclosed in his arms. In turn, John's pets become much more calm and lengthier, running from the base of Karkat's horn down to the very end of his hairline, before repeating.
They stay like this for quite awhile, until John notices Karkat has let go of the pillow from his clawed death-grip, merely keeping an arm draped around it instead. His normally-quick breaths are much longer, deeper, although he still gives a small purr upon each exhale. The sight of the sleeping troll makes John chuckle softly, and the human goes as far as to pull one of the blankets that's been pushed out from the midst of the nuzzle-fest and pull it over Karkat, to make sure he feels completely secure.
He smiles to himself, proud of his good deed of the day. As long as that's taken care of, he can go get some shut-eye, too. But when John glances over at his bed, he frowns at the sight of the simple mattress, stripped of all it's layers. He can make due, though. At least it's not too chilly tonight.
The boy slowly moves to get up, crouching awkwardly when he feels a sharp tug at his jeans. Looking down, John takes note of the clawed grey hand gripping at the hem of his pants, holding him in place. With a sigh, the pale boy sits back down slowly, slumping.
Maybe one all-nighter wouldn't be too bad, if it meant Karkat got some rest...
But this thought is eradicated as well when Karkat paps the blanket under him, pulling at John's pants again. It's a 'come lay your ass down with me, fuckass' sort of action, and John thinks it's a tad bit odd he hear the troll telling him this in his head when he notices.
Nonetheless, John slowly lies down, shimmying closer to Karkat as he does so. He watches Karkat's eyebrow twitch in his sleep, and gives the troll a small, gentle 'pap' on the hand. His eyelinds become heavy, and just as he kisses the brink of sleep, the boy remebers to pull off his glasses and shove them somewhere... away from him.
That and the fact Karkat's moved closer to nuzzle his face into John's clavicle, the arm he once drapped around the pillow now slinging itself to be around John's waist. The boy smiles, breathing out a long, peaceful sigh as he closes his eyes.
Karkat grunts against him, "Night, Egbert."
"Sweet dreams, Karkat," he mumbles softly, before slipping into the depths of sleep himself.
~O-O-O-O~
First totally-terrible Homestuck drabble-thing. c: Hooray.