"What are you doing?" Dave asks, eyeing the paper in Johns hands. The buck-toothed boy just smiled back, waving the folded note in Dave's face, clearing showing the name 'Karkat' scralled across in huge red letters. "Don't do it." the Strider warned, glaring at his best friend even though he knew the other couldn't see it.

"I'm gonna do it."

"John fucking don't."

Before Dave even finished speaking, John was running down the halls at full speed towards the locker of one short and pissy Vantas.

"JOHN!"

...

"The fuck is this?" Karkat shouted, glaring down at the paper in his hands. He flipped the paper over, only to see Johns handwriting, but in what was most definitely Dave's favorite red pen.

Eyebrows lifting in a question, Karkat looked back up to John for an explanation, only to find the windy boy had vanished.

Fucking figures he would.

Karkat grumbled under his breath and stuffed the note into his jacket pocket, clearly intent on waiting a couple hours before unfolding it to read what was written inside.

"Kitkat!" the sound of Dave's voice echoing down the halls had Karkat slamming his locker shut and rushing to get to his next class.

No way in hell was Karkat going to talk to that asshole. Not right now, not after what he had done.

Karkat was sure that he would find a time to get back what Dave took, even if it took him awhile.

He just wasn't planning on taking it back just yet.

...

Math found Karkat bored out of his mind, stealing glances over at Dave every once in a while.

Those blinding white locks always did irritate Karkat to no end.

Remembering the note in his pocket, the Latino quickly pulled it out and unfolded the creases, crouching over in his seat to read.

He didn't want to get his glasses out, that shit was embarrassing.

So he squinted and started to read.

I had been thinking about things, and somehow my thoughts got on the subject of you and how you suck.

And I mean, suck a lot.

To the point that I hate you and your stupid way with making anyone fall for your stupid charms like it's nothing.

I hate everything about you, really. I hate your stupid hair and how I just want to run my fingers through it, if only just to see if its really as soft as it looks. And why does it shine, no matter where in the school we are? How is that even fucking possible.

And I hate how you smile, like everything is perfectly alright in the world, as if there are no problems with how you act around people. I hate how your braces look adorable, and how you mess with the rubber bands that hold your teeth in place to get rid of your overbite. I hate that adorable overbite, it's so cute it's sickening.

I hate those stupid glasses that you only wear when you really need them. I hate how they frame your eyes and push your bangs up out of the way so that they no longer hang in your face. I hate how you look almost smart in them, and how they can actually trick me into thinking you have any intelligence at all, which you don't.

I hate how you're shorter than me, and how I want nothing more than to just lay my chin on top of your head and watch how mad you get. Because I know you hate it when someone calls you short. I hate how I want to just wrap my arms around your middle and lift you up from the ground just to watch you scream your head off, telling me to put you the fuck back down before you kick me in the stomach.

I hate how you have this bad habit of letting your pants sag down just low enough that I can see what color boxers you are wearing. Who the hell needs that many different styles anyways? Seriously, you have like seventeen different colors. That I know of!

And did you know that when you are working on a math problem, or reading something in English, you push your bangs up out of your face in concentration? Yeah I fucking hate that about you. Because then I just get more of you to stare at. Which is not a good thing.

Well it is, but it's not.

I mean, don't get me wrong, you are hells attractive. I just don't like staring. It shows just how fucking weak you make me.

I keep finding more and more things about you that piss me off.

Like how your favorite color is green.

Why the fuck.

Or your favorite movie.

What's so special about Monty Python and the Holy Grail?

What is your deal with personal space? Does that just not exist to you or something?

There are just so many things about you that piss me off.

And I realized, I'm like, in love with you.

See I know something like that means jack shit to you, but it means a fucking lot to me.

I'll have you know that I don't just go around saying shit like that to just anyone. Oh no, in fact this is the first time I have ever said anything like this to anyone. You just break all the rules in my book, you know that? All of them, fucking broken.

I know I talk a lot about John, and how attractive he is. But I want you to know something, it's completely material attraction. Plus the dude is like my brother, that'd be hells awkward.

And then there is Jade, and she's gorgeous. Her voice is also amazing. Like angels.

But she isn't someone that I want to spend time getting to know better. She's not the one that I want to be around all the time, and I don't want to hold her hand.

She's not the one I want to sit around all day with, watching...fucking like, Monty Python and The Holly Grail with. Eating Skittles and drinking Mountain Dew. Or whatever is your favorite soda.

I never asked, did I?

Or rather, I never got the chance to ask.

I wish I would have, but I think maybe it's for the best that I didn't?

I don't even know at this point. I think I started out writing this so I could tell you how I felt, but it just turned into a giant mess of words and confusing shit that mean nothing.

This was honestly a waste of my time, a real and true waste.

It's not like you are even going to read this stupid letter anyways, so why the fuck not get it all out.

So by the way, I have like these crazy hot dreams with you in them.

They piss me off. Honest and true piss me the fuck off.

Do you realize how addictive you are? Do you?!

I want to know what it's like to kiss those Latino lips. How it feels to hold your hand, showing you off to the world because guess what jerkoff's, I got the best one. This one is mine, and no one else can have him, so suck on that you homophobic pricks.

I wonder if you know how sexy you sound when you speak Spanish. It's hot. Hotter than Jane's buffalo-style chicken wings during summer time.

Yeah, that hot.

So...I think that should end my ranting for now.

I'm just gonna go burn this now.

Face bright red, Karkat carefully folded the note back up and got out a piece of his own.

Looking around for his grey pen, Karkat began to write.

And write he fucking did.

You stole something from me, fuckass. And I want it back.

But right now that's not the point.

Right now the point is that you are a creepy fuck, you know that?

A creepy fuck that I can't stop thinking about. I can't get you the fuck out of my head, and believe me when I say I have tried. I fucking tried getting you out.

It never works.

And the worst part is, I don't even really want you out.

I like thinking about you.

And how much you fucking make me mad.

You say I piss you off?

Good. You piss me off too.

What with all your stupid hipster douche bag shit, and those stupid ironic jokes that no one thinks are funny.

And no, I do not laugh at those stupid jokes, they fucking aren't funny damn it.

And why wear shades indoors? Are you trying to be a prick, or is it just that you like pissing me off. You know I've never seen your eyes? That sucks.

You suck.

You apparently suck dick.

Not that I care, I wouldn't mind sucking yours.

Ignore that, I never wrote it.

Fuck off I said I didn't write it.

I hate your hair.

It's blonde and annoying.

And so soft looking that I just wanna fucking bury my face in it.

And your glasses really piss me off, do you realize how much that makes me mad? I can see my own reflection, that fucking pisses me off. I hate that.

Stop wearing those stupid fucking things.

I hate how you are taller than me. Why does everyone have to point that out. "Oh yeah, Dave? Isn't he taller than you? Aw that would be so cute." yeah yeah shut the fuck up. I am manly damn it. Fuck anyone that says otherwise.

Did I mention your smile is stupid? Because it is. How can anyone smile that wide? Or that...sarcastic looking. And sexy, let's not fucking forget sexy. Damn sexy, in fact. So fuck you for that, the sexy part. Because stop.

Stop being so damn sexy that I can't even stand near you for too long without thinking about you naked. And hey I'm thinking about it again.

Fuck no. Stop doing this to me.

This is your fault, you know. That stupid letter. And don't even think about pawning it off on John, I know for a fucking fact that it's in your handwriting. I know because I've read a lot of your stupid short stories that you publish in that stupid fucking school magazine. Who the fuck even reads those anyways. I mean besides me, but that isn't the fucking point.

And stop being so nonchalant about everything. It pisses me the fuck off. Show some emotion, would you? It would be fucking great if you would just drop the stupid Strider Swag meter every once in a while. Just so I can see what you are really like.

Because just knowing your favorite color and favorite movie does not make me a Strider expert.

Red, and The Breakfast Club, by the way.

Found that out from John, who at first said your favorite movie was totally Con Air, but changed it when I told him how much you hated it.

He's kinda starting to hate the stupid movie too.

The isn't about John, though.

This is about the stupid boner we apparently both have for each other, and how something kinda needs to get done about that.

I guess I just always thought you were straight, but I guess you aren't? Or maybe I'm an exception?

Or wow, I just thought of this, maybe your a fucking prick and messing with me gay little feelings.

That would truly be ironic, wouldn't.

Looks like the boner's gone, though. So that's fucking great.

We need to actually talk about this, so your stupid ass is coming over to my house after school today, got it?

Good. Be at my locker by the end of eight period, you fucking buglefuck. Because no other jerkoff is allowed to be anywhere near my house. Feel fucking special.

Karkat read over the note, looking up at Dave from across the room.

Taking a deep breath he walked over and slipped the note into the hood of Dave's jacket, making sure to glare into those stupid shades.

...

By the time eight period had rolled around, both boys were nervous wreaks, even though Dave would never show how nervous he was on the outside.

The walk to Karkat's house was silent, aside from the sentence of greeting to a friend of their, not one word was said to each other.

That is, until they got into the shorter boy's house, up the stairs and into his room.

"Kankri's at a friends house. I think it's Porrim or some shit?" Karkat stated, throwing his bag down in front of his bed.

This wasn't the first time Dave had been in Karkat's house, in fact he was over there quite often with John and sometimes even Sollux.

But never, not once, had he been alone with the Latino.

Feeling the time as good as it would ever be, Dave slipped his sunglasses off when Karkat had his back turned. He folded down the sides and set them on the dresser in the corner of Karkat's room, next to his t.v.

"You wanna watch a mo-" as Karkat turned around with two choices in the way of films to watch, his sentence stopped abruptly when he caught sight of Dave's eyes. "Red?"

"Red." Dave confirmed.

The movies dropped to the floor as Karkat moved closer to get a better look.

"Hmm..." he let out a hum, bring a hand up to rest on Dave's cheek.

Leaning into the touch, Dave gave a hum of his own back.

that's...wooo

Here's a thing, go nuts my little pigeons.

Oh and also, this was requested by Jack, my good friend, from school. Asshole kept bugging me about it, so I wrote the damn thing.

Go insane, actually.

[Edit]: I'm working on chapter two. You're welcome. Jegus I never thought so many people would enjoy this...