"Alright, man," I said. My voice was barely above a whisper. Although I couldn't see anyone around us, the chances of us actually being alone were pretty slim. Karkat, however, did not pick up on any of the hints I dropped about wanting to keep this conversation quiet and low-key.
"What?" His voice was probably at its normal decibel level, but, given the circumstance, it felt loud and grating, and I clapped a hand over the pandora's box that was his mouth. His eyebrows scrunched up to convey his annoyance, and I made a zipper closing gesture with my own mouth before I let my hand fall from his lips.
"You know we gotta talk about this," I continued.
His eyes darted. "What, you want a more in-depth explanation on how black romance works? You have plenty of material to read up on that I have so altruistically transposed for you." His (still too loud) voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat. "I'm going back to the roof, we don't need this kind of privacy if all you want to do is ask me question after agonizing question about caligony," he said, turning his back. I yanked his wrist before his foot could land its first step away from me.
"You know what this is about, you coy shit weasel." This statement earned a deep groan from Karkat.
"God damn it Dave, I know that you know that I know," he hissed. "And I know that you know that I don't fucking want to confront this right now." He spun on his heel to make his body face mine again, but he didn't make me let go of his wrist, even after I began to squeeze it tighter. He removed my sunglasses, folded them, and tucked one of its arms into the front of my pajamas before letting out a resigning sigh. "You're really going to make me talk about this, aren't you?"
I looked down at my chest where he had stuck my sunglasses. He had never done that before. No one had. And for the life of me, I could not decide how to react right there on the spot. I still have no idea what the right protocol for responding to a gesture like that is. A few years ago, I might have punched him. (And, seeing his facial expression when I reestablished eye contact with him, he probably thought that's what I was about to do.) But what would that even do at this point? What even made that reaction come to mind? After a few silent, contemplative moments, I just brushed it off and didn't acknowledge that he did it. But, looking back, I wonder what would have happened if I did something about it. Or said something. Because honestly, it kind of gave me the dokis. But for whatever reason, I guess my facial expression didn't match how soft and sappy my queer little heart felt.
"Look," he said, his voice picking up in volume again. By then, I was sure he was speaking loudly on purpose to draw attention to us. Maybe he hoped to gain witnesses to scare me off. "I'm really not up for another movie night tonight. Ask the Mayor if you really need company that badly." His voice was almost theatrically loud at this point, and his eyes continued to flicker away from me, even though my sunglasses were no longer creating a focal barrier. The little shit really was trying to intimidate me out of this conversation. And normally, I would have just dropped the subject. I was snowplowing right through his personal emotion bubble. But whatever there was between us had to be addressed, and there wasn't much time it this way sure beat the hell out of having a "what are we" type of discussion in front of everyone, where Karkat was getting visibly (and audibly) uncomfortable.
The little fucker, though! He knew I was trying to be considerate of his boundaries by not forcing him to talk about us in front of our friends, and when we finally had some alone time, he was trying to draw their attention to us again. Because he knew if anyone walked in on us speaking, he would have an excuse to throw a shitfit, and I would back down. Fine. If he wanted everyone to know what we were talking about, I would let it happen. But if he thought I was going to shut up once we had spectators, he was dead wrong.
My voice rose to match his volume. "Like I said, you know what this is about. That ain't it. Nice try, though." I reached out to grab his other wrist, but he saw my hand coming. He tried to swat it away, but instead our hands just kind of smashed together in a limp high-five. He flinched slightly when I began to slide my fingers through his knuckles. We met each others gaze again, and I could see beads of sweat forming on his forehead. The hand that I was now holding felt cold and clammy. We stared each other down for a good thirty seconds before he wriggled his fingers away from mine and jammed that hand into his pocket.
"Fine!" He was practically screaming by now. "Tell me how you feel, Dave! I can take it! I mean we're probably going to get murdered by a tantrum-throwing green monster who could incinerate our whole party faster than you can say 'no homo bro,' but go ahead, tell me everything! The outcome of this conversation is really going to lift my spirits either way you spin it. If you tell me you're not interested in me, thanks informing me before the most intense boss fight we're ever going to have, maybe I can channel my heartbreak into a demon-slaying rage and I'll just one-hit the fucker and we'll be home free to make a new universe where we can awkwardly avoid each other forever. Or if you are interested in me, hey, thanks for telling me right before one or both of us potentially gets murdered when you had plenty of sweeps to admit to any feelings you developed and given us a reasonable amount of time to at least have one fucking date, you goddamn coward."
His words felt like a swarm of wasps, stinging and leaving a hard lump in my throat. I almost thought he was right. I almost fucking agreed. But I swallowed the lump and pulled my head out of my ass to pull a response together. "I'm not a coward!" I screamed. "I'm just slow on the uptake! I didn't recognize any of this for what it was until John asked me if I was gay! And you know fucking what? I think you're hot!" My throat already felt like sandpaper. I didn't understand how Karkat could scream as often as he did. His windpipe must have built calluses over the years so he could go on shrieking from the womb to the fucking tomb. And here I was, desperately wanting a break from shouting, but when I spat out that last sentence Karkat's face had drooped with dumbfounded bewilderment, and so I had to elaborate before he could get a chance to cut me off.
"Last night I had a dream about doing body shots off of you, and I could have used my morning wood as a fork lift when I woke up! And I was only genuinely sleepy the first couple of times we watched movies together! If I could figure out another situation where it would be appropriate to rest my head on your lap or your shoulder, I would probably actually get through an entire movie with you! And you give bomb-ass back rubs when you think I'm asleep! Sometimes I fake snore just so you think you're safe to be affectionate towards my unconscious body!" I was almost positive we were being watched by then. Although I had managed to lead him to an unoccupied room on the meteor for our discussion, we weren't far from the rooftop where everyone was gathered not too long ago. In my head, I had imagined this part of our dialogue to be expressed in a rap battle-I had a couple verses lined up in my head in preparation-but the atmosphere of our conversation was pretty much set in stone. This was Karkat's conversational comfort zone-shouting.
"I'm glad you brought that up, actually! Just call me Santa, because I know when you're sleeping and I fucking know when you're awake! Joke's on you, shitstain! As it turns out, rubbing your back is mutually beneficial-you reap the spoils of physical comfort, and I get to warm my hands on your soft, well-maintained skin! And don't get me started on your goddamn snooze boners! This is a tiny-ass meteor and you never sleep in the privacy of your own block anymore! Everyone has seen the outline of your tireless shitrod at least once! Am I really the cause of those? Or was it just that one time? Tell me more about how hot you think I am, Dave, oh please, I fucking implore!"
I was still holding onto his one wrist, and my knuckles felt like they were about to pop out of their fleshy casing as I gripped it tighter. He winced, so I softened my hold on him slightly, but I still didn't dare to let go of him. I couldn't have him run off, not now. Words fell loudly from my mouth like screaming vomit. "You have long eyelashes and a strong jawline, and I think those qualities are really attractive!"
"Yeah? Well you have perfect skin!"
"Your ass and thigh muscles are probably fucking ripped! I really wish I had an excuse to see you in a pair of shorts, but the tempurature on this meteor refuses to rise!"
"I've always wanted an opportunity to look directly into your eyes, and they are one metric shit ton more intimidating than I anticipated!"
"The shape of your mouth is nice!"
"Your freckles are goddamn adorable!"
"Your smile is hella cute, even though I don't get to see it that often!" I could hear my voice crack at the tail of that sentence. I had to press on. "What the fuck are we doing, Karkat? What's the hold-up here? I mean this is mutual, right?"
This time, it was Karkat who initiated hand holding-he took his hand out of his pocket and locked his fingers between mine. "Mutual for what? I don't even know what quadrant you're shooting for here!" I finally unlatched my hand from his wrist. He didn't let me drop it to my side, though-he began to hold that hand, too. Although both of us had softened our postures, his shouting grew louder than ever. "God knows I'd take you in any quadrant you wanted to sling at me! But I don't know why I'm so hell bent on clinging to the idea of quadrants anyway! My species is dying out!"
"THEN JUST BE MY BOYFRIEND!"
In every instance that I mentally premeditated this conversation and how it would turn out, I was going to be the first one to go in for the kill in terms of kissing. But once I felt Karkat's hands fall out from my fingers, I knew that wasn't going to be how things were going to play out. He took my face in his hands, and our lips met. His lips were soft and relaxed, the contact between our lips firm, but tender-almost careful. His skin was feverish against mine. He was probably blushing, the sucker for romance that he was. And I could tell he was trying to do some corny-ass move that he learned from a romcom by doing this forehead-bonk thing after our lips disconnected. I tried to stifle my laughter, but it came out as a snort. Karkat pulled away and let out a squawky "what," paired with a scowl. I shook my head. At least he didn't pull any of that Princess Diaries leg-pop shit, I probably would have pissed myself laughing. I was about to piss myself laughing with or without more romcom imitating moves from Karkat's end. This was the most surreal interaction I ever had. My throat was on fire, all from shouting compliments at this weird, loud dude that I had grown so fond of over the years.
"So," I said, finally speaking at a normal conversational volume, "was that a yes to being my boyfriend?"
"What, like a human relationship without the sloppy quadrant bullfuckery? Yeah dude, that sounds refreshing."
"Nice."
I heard whispering and giggly "sssshhhh!"ing. An audience had formed, peaking through a now cracked open door. I guess it wasn't so bad having everyone always constantly aware of my business. I'm sure they knew I was bisexual long before I did. Coming out was probably not going to be as big of a deal as I originally imagined. And, now that the cat was out of the bag, the dark secretive cloud concealing what we meant to each other evaporated from over Karkat's head. He wove his fingers through my hair and pulled me forward into another kiss. There was cheering beyond the door. I could see John giving a thumbs up, Vriska and Terezi cackling as usual, Rose clapping, Kanaya giving us approving nods. "Nice," I repeated before shutting the door on them all. Having the green light from friends was good, but kissing my new boyfriend in private was even better.