Karkat hurried toward the small area he had set up to be his respitebl- bedroom, eventually giving up on a brisk walk and full on running. He shoved his way through Rose and Dave who were in the cooking room (What was the human word again?) and silently cursed his past self for deciding to make his room go past a public area.

Finally, Karkat dashed through a hallway and turned into the third door on the right, where he immediately fell into his sweater-and-horn pile, panting. He bitterly wiped the tears in his eyes, burying himself partway into the pile (and ignoring the honks some still-functioning horns made). He grabbed one of the horns in the pile, throwing it at the wall. It made a loud and obnoxiously satisfying honk before falling to the floor.

Karkat did it again. This horn didn't hit the wall ball-first, instead smashing as the shitty plastic hit the gray stone wall with immense force. Karkat grabbed three horns at once, purging the pile of even more horrible loud clown devices.

More and more horns flew towards the wall, until Karkat held the last horn in his trembling hands, noting with a blank mind that the pile was significantly smaller (and quieter) and somewhat resembled how he felt about himself at the moment- shriveled, lumpy, and incomplete. These weren't new additions to the pile of loathing Karkat had made for his mind, but they were especially prevalent on this shitty night-day-thing.

It was his fucking wriggling day. Not like it mattered anyway, but it was a bit of a reminder that Karkat had been stuck on the meteor for half a sweep. One whole year, maybe a little more, had been completely blown away. Karkat felt like he was passively waiting to die, and he was just about ready to, even though that would force him to spend even more eternities rotting in dream bubbles.

He rubbed his eyes again. Karkat was crying full on. He felt disgusted, pulling his sweater over his knees and bringing his head under the hole. It was always nice, completely enclosed in a fuzzy barrier from the outside world. It seemed like a daily occurrence now for Karkat to spend an hour or two sobbing like a fool in his own sweater until his neck and throat were sore.

Of course, today was different because he had actually had to storm through the kitchen. Rose, or worse, /Dave/, could have gotten curious any second and come knocking to interrogate Karkat about his-

/Knock knock/.

"What is it? Leave it for some other time, it's not like there's a rush for fucking ANYTHING here," Karkat spat, cursing the crack in his voice.

Instead of replying, the mystery asshole on the other side of the door entered the room. Karkat buried his head further into his knees, trying to not give away anything. Even though it was futile, at least he could /pretend/ like he was alone.

"Hey."

Of course. Of COURSE it had to be Dave. Who else could make Karkat wish he could effortlessly disintegrate his own thinkpan so he wouldn't have to feel the agony of shame on his shoulders?

"Go. Away."

"Um," Dave stuttered out, probably scrambling for something to say.

"Please, just go," Karkat choked out, coughing harshly to avoid letting out a sob. Dave had been nothing but trouble, and 'asshole' just seemed to leak out of every pore on his human body. Karkat was in anything but the mood to go through another exhausting argument with him.

"What's wrong," Dave said in a stilted voice, sounding like a wiggler trying to speak full sentences. This was strange, it almost sounded like Dave genuinely wanted to make Karkat feel better instead of complete the loop of his shitty jokes.

"Are you deaf? Fuck off," Karkat said, breathing through his mouth in the hot space that was his sweater. Shit. He couldn't breathe. Fuck. Fucking shit. Karkat fell over on his side, pushing his legs out of the sweater before forcing his head out to get air again properly. It was fucking embarassing, and it must have been comical for Dave to watch as Karkat writhed about in the pile of sweaters, trying to cover his face while getting a steady supply of oxygen.

Karkat gave up against fighting against his own body and the pile of strangling devices, lying on his back with one hand at his side and the other arm covering both his eyes. He hated everything, and could feel Dave's gaze burning his entire being. He felt each footstep as it came closer deep in his chest, hating the sound of shoes against concrete as Dave neared him.

Karkat heard Dave's clothes ruffle as he squatted down beside Karkat. He didn't know what to expect. Probably a chuckle or something, a joke at his expense. He flinched, feeling pinpricks run down his back as a surprisingly cold hand grabbed his, pulling his arm off of his face.

Karkat didn't move, somehow petrified. He squeezed his eyes shut, avoiding opening them and seeing that fucking face. He was especially surprised when he heard a quiet click, and felt something going onto his face and eventually resting on his nose. Confused, Karkat opened his eyes. The room was darker tinted than usual, and as he reached the hand not currently in Dave's to his eyes, he realized what he was wearing.

They were Dave's shades.

"W-what?" Karkat stammered, looking at the face over his and realizing that he was still wearing a pair as well.

"I have more than one pair, y'know."

Karkat pulled his hand out of Dave's, sniffling unfortunately loudly and sitting up.

"Are you going to tell me what's up, or what." Dave's voice was blank, it was more of a statement than a question. He looked towards the pile of shattered horns by the wall, turning back to Karkat.

"It's all bullshit." Karkat tried to form more words, but nothing came out. He realized that there was no other explanation needed, because it really /was/ all just bullshit.

"Do you need a hug." Again, it was a statement. Dave might have been joking. Hell, he probably was. Why was he being so sympathetic all of a sudden?

Karkat started to think about what sort of stupid plan this was to exploit him or make him a fucking joke, and how he could already hear Dave laughing at him, and h- holy fuck he just leaned in and started hugging Dave.

Dave was soft, and sort of felt like liquid in Karkat's arms, like he did when they were fighting. Karkat expected him to worm out of his embrace, but instead Dave pulled his arms out from Karkat's and wrapped them around the other's torso.

Karkat moved his legs so they were no longer folded, and instead one was on either side of Dave.

"What the fuck am I doing?" Karkat whispered quietly, putting his head on Dave's shoulder.

Dave said nothing, instead putting his own head on Karkat's shoulder, and exhaling deeply into his sweater. Karkat could feel his eyes pricking with a new wave of disgustingly red tears, and he nuzzled closer to Dave's soft shoulder as he sniffled.

This was pathetic. This was BEYOND fucked up. Karkat was getting cuddly with the GOD of jackasses, like they were fucking moirails! He wanted to scream at Dave to get off of him, and force him away, before shoving the shattered horns down his throat! He could feel his voice preparing itself, so he could finally utter words of spite.

"Sorry."

Shit. Shit. Did Karkat really just say that? He moved his arms, so he could at least shove Dave off of him, and then he finally managed to... hug him tighter. Holy piss nipple, was his body staging a full on mutiny? God fucking dammit, of course he had to be a failure at controlling even his own goddamn body.

But Dave was so warm, and Karkat couldn't help but notice that he smelled nice. Like some sort of weird candy or something, but just faint enough to be pleasant instead of nauseating. He heard something get muttered into his own shoulder, but his own breathing was too loud for him to fully hear it.

"What?" He asked, pulling his head partway out of Dave's shoulder so he could be heard.

"I am too," Dave said, immediately returning to Karkat's sweater. "I'm sorry."

Karkat could feel his eyelids drooping, about to fall asleep in his new fuzzy barrier from the outside world, but just as he felt himself drifting off, Dave shifted under him.

"My legs are asleep," he said, and Karkat couldn't hold in a disappointed groan. God, was he desperate.

Karkat lifted his head off of Dave's shoulder, the shades falling off in the action. He had forgotten he was still wearing those in the daze he had been in for the past...

"How long has it been?"

"Fourteen minutes and thirty-eight seconds as of... now," Dave said bluntly, impressing Karkat with his weird internal timer.

Karkat pushed himself off of Dave's legs reluctantly, stretching his own slightly sore limbs.

"So. What now." Dave looked at Karkat, shades still on.

"I don't know. Are we still enemies?" Friends? The Alternian words were the same, what the fuck did it matter?

"Sure. But do we have to throw bitchfits in order to still maintain that status, because 'm just about bitched out. I've got a little bitch-o-meter and it's-"

"No." Karkat licked his lips, turning away from Dave and staring towards the door instead. "Do you want to leave?" He said it like HE wanted Dave to leave, and screamed at himself for phrasing it so that Dave WOULD want to leave.

"D'you want me to? 'Cause that pity party you were throwin' for yourself earlier still hasn't been finished. If ya wanna make sure I'm not here for the fireworks or anythin', it's not a problem, y'know." Dave's speech came out different than usual, and he spoke with sort of a swing.

"Not really," Karkat said, grabbing a sweater and picking at the seams just for something to do.

"Well then, I don't wanna leave either. Get cozy, 'cause tonight is the night where we both make absolute asses of ourselves." Dave crawled over a little closer to Karkat, discarding his cape and adding it to the pile. Next off were his shoes and socks, joining the pile of shattered horns with a wheezy honk. He stayed still, looking at his bare feet instead of Karkat.

Karkat did the same, removing his shoes and socks. He edged nearer to Dave, still trying to think of something to say.

"Are ya gonna keep on the sweater? 'Cause I took off the cape an' all that, figure it'd be a fair exchange."

"Yeah, I am. I'm not wearing anything under it, jackass." It was true, Karkat didn't like overheating with too many layers, but would never give up his sweater. So certain sacrifices had to be made.

Dave chuckled, but it wasn't his usual laugh which reflected everything horrible in the world, but instead it just sounded somewhat pleasant. God /damn/ did Karkat want to get back into that fucker's arms.

A yawn ripped its way out of Karkat's throat, and he genuinely was ready to go to sleep. Without the presence of Gb'glolyb, it was easy to actually rest, but Karkat still would instinctively want to avoid any sleep rage. However, once he saw Dave yawn too, he realized it was time.

"So, uh..." Karkat hated this. He hated talking about these things. Why was he having to talk to Dave about this?

"Let's get this shit figured out." Dave got up, gesturing for Karkat to leave the pile as well. He started setting it up in a nest-looking formation, throwing some clothes from his sylladex into the pile and making it decidedly less pathetic. Finally, he appeared done, and waved his arm with a sweeping bow.

"Your sleeping quarters, sir," Dave said with the worst fake accent of all time. Karkat lazily punched him in the arm before getting into the pile, pulling some clothes over himself.

Dave crawled in next after flicking off the lightswitch, and ended up behind Karkat. Pulling some clothes over himself and draping the cape over both of them, Dave edged closer to the troll and wrapped one arm around his side, leaving the other pressed against his back. Karkat lazily put his arm over the other's, sort of loosely holding his hand.

Karkat wasn't able to understand why Dave was so kind to him all of a sudden. In the room, it was pitch dark. Karkat couldn't see anything, all he could feel was Dave's warm body behind him, breathing slowly. He could even feel his bloodpusher (he was NOT going to say heart) beating.

Karkat's eyes finally shut slowly as he drifted off to sleep, feeling as though the weight of the world had, at least somewhat, been lifted off of his shoulders.