The world was changing tomorrow. After a sweep and a half the world is changing again, just like that, and Gamzee isn't ready for it. He hadn't been ready for the first miraculous change of playing Sgrub, no matter what he'd thought. Nor had he been able to handle the other (less than miraculous change) that he'd gone through in the Veil. Now they were going out into a world they didn't even know except through a screen. And Gamzee... He'd have to come out of hiding.

A sweep and a half (three human years) he'd been hiding, seeing only Karkat and the memories of friends in dream bubbles. The former had been less common as time went by, the latter more, and he hated both those facts. Just seeing Karkat (utter frustration as he looked upon his moirail, listened to him rant about Terezi and Dave, never turning his attention properly on Gamzee) every so often hadn't been enough, though, and he'd been forced to take out Aradia's Music Boxes. With those he'd been able to jump around, making sure that the times he went to fetch food would find the food preparation block abandoned. Only safe way for a motherfucker to get his feed on without Kanaya finding him.

But now he sat here, in his hiding place, waiting for the end. Waiting for what the next day would bring. Waiting to stretch his wings and flee (no one would expect it, no one had ever known, not even the spider-bitch who had thought herself so much higher than them). Go and hide in this new instance, never look back. What was there here for him, anyway? People who wanted to kill him, people who could care less about his existance, and a moirail that wasn't there (they weren't good moirails, the shades of pity didn't match at all).

He misses the land of Tents and Mirth. Back then it was simple. A troll could sit down and get his chill on, sharing pie with all the little imps, and never have to worry. The world, life, living were all miracles. And now he was here, in the dark lab, with nothing left to show for all he had done. Nothing...

"Gamzee..."

His head snaps up, banging the tips of his horns against the wall he had his back too, and he can't help but honk and curse. The throbbing in his head is weird now, a mixture of rising chucklevoodoos (he'd learned to controll them in the past sweep, not that anyone really knew it), and the pain from the blow. Both of those, though, were nothing compared to the motherfucking shock of the voice.

"I swear to gog if you've gone crazy again, I will shoosh pap you to within an inch of your life," Karkat's voice seeming steady, but Gamzee was getting good at finding the nervousness hidden below.

"No need," Gamzee said with a sigh. He wasn't in the mood to feign the lilting that reassured Karkat. "Hit my horns on the wall."

"Fucking hell," Karkat grunted, rushing over. A tray with all of Gamzee's favorite foods was left aside as Karkat knelt at his side. "Hold still."

It was only then that Gamzee noticed the differences. They were so obvious, maybe they had always been, but he hadn't looked before. Karkat showed up so rarely, and never more than with some food before leaving. He never stayed long enough for Gamzee to study. But now that he looked, the changes were as obvious as the hushed, almost gentle tone that Karkat was using on him. His hair was longer, shaggier (not that Gamzee's was any better), he was taller, and there was something less sharp about him. Then again, it wasn't like Gamzee was the same anymore either.

Karkat started to reach out, and Gamzee wanted to pull away, but he was still. Held motherfucking still as Karkat tilted his head forward (his hands were hot on his head, always so hot), and leaned in to look over Gamzee's horns. Gamzee knew why, of course. A crack could lead to infected marrow, could make a troll sick, could rot the thinkpan. Honestly, Gamzee thought it was a miracle that Equius hadn't...

He wanted to shake his head, get the thoughts loose, drive them away, but Karkat was too close. Too much chance of knocking him in the face. And the feel of his burning hot fingers gently tracing over every inch of his horns, seeking some flaw, had long since rooted Gamzee to the spot. The heat felt so good, better than he had ever imagined, and pulling away was something he refused.

"Karkat..."

"Shoosh. I'm almost fucking done. Give me a fucking second."

"Karkat, it's motherfucking okay. The pain's already gone."

"And the last fucking thing we need is for you to lose your fucking head just as we're about to get free of this damn thing..."

"Not going to be losing my motherfucking thinkpan again. Ain't no question about that, brother."

"Good. You've got the humans pretty fucking worried."

"And you?"

With a sigh Karkat moved, shifted so he could sit by Gamzee instead of just kneeling there. It took a lot for Gamzee to hold back a whimper as Karkat's hands left his horns (after the heat his horns felt so motherfucking cold).

"I remember how we met," Karkat said, all but chuckling. "You said it was because of your fetch modus."

"It was a motherfucking miracle, palebro."

"That sounds more like the Gamzee I know."

"Honk."

"Yeah, but I could fucking do without you sounding THAT much like the Gamzee I knew."

"Sorry bro. So, you just here to tell me the motherfucking miracle that's going down tomorrow. I'm not kickin' ignorance in that area. You ain't got to be here to tell me."

Karkat rolled his eyes at that. "You really fucking think that's the only reason I'd have to come see my moirail?"

It was hard, MOTHERFUCKING HARD not to laugh. Maybe Karkat didn't get it, but Gamzee always had. Always had noticed the absence, how it grew longer and longer each time. There was one thing on Karkat's mind, and it wasn't Gamzee. Never had been. Ever since he'd met Terezi...

He'd taken too long to answer. Gamzee realized it as Karkat twisted to look at him.

"You do. You fucking do."

"Palebro..."

"Don't you FUCKING PALEBRO ME!" Karkat snapped, jumping to his feet. "YOU DON'T EVEN FUCKING BELIEVE I CARE ABOUT THAT RELATIONSHIP."

There were so many answers he could have given. A denial. A confirmation. Some kind of distracting statement. Pure refusal to answer.

"All you care about is Terezi. Even someone as blind as that chica could see that motherfucking shit. Ever since... What happened back then, all you've cared about is her. Whenever you came to see me, all you'd motherfucking talk about is her. Her and Strider. Got your business all up in the motherfucking teal blooded chica, and can't spare any fucking time for your moirail."

"I'VE GIVEN YOU PLENTY OF FUCKING TIME. I BROUGHT YOU MEALS..."

"Everyday at first. What the motherfuck happened to that, bro? What the MOTHERFUCK happened to you?"

"I..."

Gamzee shook his head and pushed himself to his feet. He all but towered over the other troll, looking down on him and restaining his anger. "You. Always motherfucking about YOU BROTHER. What about ME? You think about me at all after the Veil? I've known you longer than either of us has motherfucking known anyone else. Or near enough to motherfucking count. And what do I get? A COLD MOTHERFUCKING SHOULDER. Will you motherfucking imagine that. COLD MOTHERFUCKING SHOULDER from a brother with blood that burns to the touch."

Karkat was frozen in place, eyes wide, disbelieving.

"I... I don't..."

"You never do. Never motherfucking notice."

Then he's leaning down, cupping Karkat's too hot face in his hands. Karkat's eyes are still wide (windows into the motherfucking soul, and when Gamzee looks he can see flecks of brilliant red starting to come through in Karkat's eyes), disbelieving. Afraid (Gamzee could feel it in his horns) of what came next, afraid to find those hands slide down around his neck, tighten. For a second Gamzee considers it (a second only where he thinks of painting with the gorgeous, miracle blood), then he starts to lean in closer. The space between them is too great (too much when all he wants to do is revel in that heat), a combination of their heights and the space they've put between each other over the years.

And then there's no space between them at all, and it's everything Gamzee ever imagined. The thin skin of Karkat's lips do nothing to dull the heat so far as Gamzee can tell. His own lips burn at the touch, as if they would blister from the contact. His hands hurt too, Karkat's blushing and the increased heat is more than enough to make him want to jerk his hands away from Karkat's face. Yet he holds on, keeps his lips pressed to the other's, knowing the second he lets go it's over. This has to be savored. Each second of heat, miraculous and painful, is a second he won't get to repeat, and he's not letting it go until he must.

Hands are coming up between them, Karkat's, palms pressed against his chest. Karkat's going to push him away, it hurts to know, but no more than the heat. Gamzee was ready for it, always had been. Ever since he had first laid eyes upon Karkat...

But Karkat was pushing and Gamzee let his hands fall to his sides, let Karkat push him away. At least he wouldn't have to live with this regret.

They stand in silence for a few minutes after Karkat pushed him away. Though they aren't still. Karkat's shaking, fists clenched at his sides. Gamzee's raised a hand to his lips, gingerly touching them, feeling the lingering heat. He's certain that under his facepaint his flesh is scorched purple, but all he can think about is the smearing of black of Karkat's lips. That and the flustered look on his face is more than enough. Makes it motherfucking worth it.

"Gamzee..."

"I motherfucking know, palebro. World changes tomorrow. So we can forget about this whole thing."

Before Karkat can say anything, Gamzee's sitting back down, reasserting the space between him and Karkat. It's what Karkat needs, a moirail knows, so he can walk away from this, from him. Makes it easy, makes it so much easier for them both. Karkat can walk away, pretend it's never happened. And Gamzee, he can just cling to this moment, the last moment. Tomorrow, after all, the world will change, so he wants to remember it as it might have been.

"Forget?"

No response. Gamzee doesn't have one, never had one. Motherfucking planned responses weren't his think.

"DAMMIT GAMZEE!"

Then Karkat's on his knees again, one hand wrapped tightly around one of Gamzee's horns to force Gamzee to look at him. The other is buried in Gamzee's hair, pulling him forward so the heat is on his lips again. He tries to jerk away, but the grip on his horn (so hot, sending such amazing shivers through his body) is too secure. Karkat only pulls away as the touch gets too hot to handle, and then only for a moment. Another kiss, again, deeper, and still scalding.

It's a miracle, and Gamzee can't understand it. No amount of Faygo or sopor could give him an answer. Only Karkat.

"Karkat..." he gasps as the other troll pulls away. "What..."

"The world's about to change, Gamzee. But we already have."

As Karkat leans in again, his fingers still tangled in Gamzee's hair, Gamzee can't help but stare at the black covering Karkat's lips. And it looks good there. So good. Like it's always belonged.