Dave was bored.

No, that probably wasn't the truth. Well, he was bored. No one online, not really. Most people out doing mad pre-college-class bullshit, getting moved into their dorm rooms. Most of the people he'd talk to were going to be here anyways, soon.

Boredom was just a skeevy overlay on a patch of gut-deep nervousness, if he was to be honest. And he was. Honest. Well, except for every moment of the motherfucking day when he wasn't. Like now. Nerves. Ok. He could admit nerves. Admitting why - well, his mind shied away from that like a preacher from a skanky two-bit ho. Not that he knew any two-bit hos. Or preachers. Shit, Porrim would probably kick his ass if she knew he'd been talking about hos that way. Or any way, other than respecting them for the hardworking men and women that they were, or some shit. Fuck. Now his metaphors were really getting away from him.

He glanced around at the computer in front of him, all new and shiny on a not so new and shiny dormitory desk. Standard fare, really. At least he had the room to himself - well, technically at least. He was sharing an apartment type thing with four bedrooms, two on either side of some shared living space and kitchen. Could be worse. He could be stashed away like a sardine in a tin with other crotch-grabbing butt monkeys. At least his inheritance paid for this much, so he could stay in the same dorm with his closest friends and family.

Family. There was a big black-hole of a word. He clamped down on it, squeezed it away, replaced it by staring at the shitty over-pixilated lamp that sat next to his computer, although why he'd fucking need a lamp on his desk he didn't know, especially when there was a fluorescent one built into the damn thing already. But it pulled his mind away from smuppets and swords and the new fucking cousin he was supposed to meet later and - Nope. Not goin there. Not yet, no no no.

He heard a sleepy little grunt from behind him and glanced back, gaze softening. Sleeping beauty was always pretty damn good at bringing a smile to his lips. He listened to the deep rhythmic breathing, centering himself even as fingertips ran along the white plastic curve of his headphones lying silent on the desk. He could put them on, mix up some big phat beats. Use the music to syphon the nervousness out of him, bit by bit. He had a webcam trained on his bed so he could check to see if the sloppy mat of black curls so much as stirred, but decided it wasn't on the books today. He was too hyped up, too nervous, and he wanted to slide into cuddles as soon as the other was awake enough that he wouldn't be woken up by Dave's nervous movements. Sleep was a precious commodity, after all. Not as precious as apple juice, but damned if he wasn't gonna deprive the kid of some zzz's just because he had a hankerin for some soul-searchin skin time.

He had to quiet a snort from that turn of phrase, wondering what reaction it would get if the other was awake. Probably an icy glare or cold shoulder. At least for a few minutes. He grinned, flipping the webpage to watch the plane tracker not move for a few more minutes, trying to quiet his swiftly-beating heart.

That plane tracked the first person he was worried about. Well, not worried exactly. He was excited as fuck about the guy on that plane. He hadn't seen John in fucking forever, not since they were thirteen and at some fucked-up excuse for a summer camp. They'd known each other for years before that, playing stupid video game after stupid video game together along with Jade and Rose, teaming up against other stupid kids. It had been an awesome escape from his childhood. The one where he was the weirdo kid with the weirdo eyes and the weirdo family situation, who wasn't involved in any school activities and avoided most people in general. Oh, and then there was the thing with Bro. That, though, was still a gaping black hole of festering putrid unresolved shit that had been whipped into a fucking frenzy by plush protuberances before being frozen in time by the murder of his guardian shortly after Dave had gotten home from summer camp.

It was only later, when child services fostered him with the Maryams, that he started to figure out how crazy fucked up things had been with Bro. It was still hard to get his mind around it. Easier to pull up stupid shit that had absolutely nothing to do with his family at all, especially the fact that, unlike he'd believed, he wasn't the last Strider alive in the universe. Lo and behold, he had a fucking cousin. A cousin a year older than him. That was going to this fucking university. This was person number two on his worry list, and fuck if he hadn't worked himself around to facing this mindfuck of an issue faster than if Rose had laid him out on her two-bit ho of a couch (because it let anyone ride it, and knowing Rose, it probably had). At least his weird spermbank-sister-friend wasn't here to see the slow descent of Dave Strider's self-possession.

Fucking hell Karkat needed to wake up.

He wondered if it would be skeevy to turn around and slide his chair over to watch the troll sleep. Well, any more skeevy than having a webcam trained on his somnolent body. Not that it was recording of course. Or broadcasting as well. He wasn't his fucking brother. He just liked to be reminded that the other was still there. He wondered if Karkat would let him put a webcam in his room too, the one on the other side of the apartment. Pondered it for a minute, thought about the likely property damage that would result from the question, and filed it away for another moment in time.

He watched the box in the corner of his screen for a moment, but all the other boy did was turn his face towards the camera, dark lashes still gracing his light grey skin. Chuffing quietly at his own impatience, Dave turned back to the browser with the airplane. Twenty-nine minutes and sixteen seconds before it touched down on the ground. Then add on another twenty minutes to get through the gate and pick up luggage, forty-five minutes or so to get through traffic, make it a little over an hour and a half until the best friend of thirteen year-old him moved into the room next door. It was too long, and also not enough, and his stomach was tying itself in knots in a way that only Karkat would get. Not Rose, or Dolorosa, or Jade, or anyone else.

Rose would think he was overthinking things again. It was one of the reasons he'd been barred from going to pick John up. What did she know? Jane had gotten in a couple days ago and they were perfectly fine together. Then again Rose was blatantly out, had been dating Kanaya for the past few years. And neither she nor Jade had up and just quit everything like he had after his Bro had died, all up until he'd been placed with the Maryams and found out one of the other kids in his foster home was a troll who he'd played against in their stupid games. Fighting with him had distracted him from all the other shit in his life. They'd annoyed the fuck out of each other back then, though for the most part Dave had found it hilarious. Still did. Though they'd worn down some of the rough edges by now. How he'd actually classify their relationship now - well. It was complicated.

He just knew that Karkat was motherfucking important as hell to him, and had no idea how John would feel about that. Didn't know how he'd feel about this John that he'd barely been able to talk to in the last few years. Worried that his best friend would be someone totally different, someone who wouldn't gel with him, who'd regret agreeing to move into the same apartment, who'd be blatantly homophobic even though Dave didn't put a label on his own sexuality really hadn't really figured out anything except that some people were important and some people made him feel good and he worried that he was all fucked up about sex because of all the fucking porn and smut that Bro had exposed him to and - shit.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Again. Again.

Unconsciously he synchronized his breaths to the boy sleeping behind him, only stuttering when he heard a long yawn, stretch, and mumble from the bed.

Motherfucking finally. Fucking sleep cycles took far too fucking long. Turning, he looked, rewarding himself with the view of half-awake Karkat staring at him through sleep-dazed eyes. The other boys mouth was working a bit, but no words.

Dave chuckled and rolled over to the bed, slowly climbing up on it and sliding in next to Karkat as he rolled onto his back.

"Hey, sleeping beauty," he said, laughing at the face the other made at that. Were the other boy more awake he probably would've received a punch to the shoulder. As was, he just found himself trapped in a greedy snuggle embrace that he was happy to reciprocate.

Karkat was warm, and his hair smelled like cinnamon as Dave tipped his head to nuzzle at it. He thought about encouraging the other boy to take off his sweatshirt. Karkat had basically just come into the room earlier and bounced onto the bed, pulling the covers up over himself before napping. He was probably overheated now, and that wasn't good.

Getting Karkat even partially naked was probably not a good idea, though. They only had an hour and a half, less really, maybe an hour if traffic was good. Not that anything would happen, but it could. Possibly. At least a part of him hoped it would. That part that was used to having dreams that never came true, at least. Karkat would probably quash the idea of any happy funtimes like a cockroach in a Wafflehouse, basically for the same reasons as Dave's smarter side was. Karkat was worried about Egbert coming too. Dave wasn't entirely sure what the trolls deal was, though he flattered himself it had something to do with him. Sometimes it seemed like there was something else there too, though.

It didn't matter.

It was enough, just now, to hold him. Run fingers up and down his back, over the soft knit fabric, feel him almost purring. Karkat's arms were wrapped around him too - solid, thick arms that had held him through some of the worst nights of his life.

Karkat grounded him.

Karkat was home.

He needed this way more than any distraction, no matter how pleasurable, even if the pleasure involved Karkat himself. These moments he felt like Karkat was a magnet pulling all the pieces of Dave Strider out from all the edges of the universe and tucking them back onto the spinning record that was his soul. All worries about John or Dirk or anyone else just got extracted for the time being because they didn't fit the program. Not part of the playlist. Screw all the snazzy ass beats wanting to get playtime in the club, cuz right now Professor K is in charge and he's layin down smooth slick thumpin' beats and won't add in none of that low class claptrap tinny worry shit (Dave had wondered at some point in time what it would be like if someone could actually read his mind and catch all these classic lines, but Karkat had reminded him - because Dave had wondered this out loud - that half the time they it fell out of his mouth anyways because evidently Dave had no filter. When he'd said that Karkat wasn't complaining (blatant lie that it was) Karkat had shut him up. Effectively. Dave had made him promise not to sell the secret of that to anyone).

They stayed like that for a while, Dave's heart calming down for real. He kissed the end of one blunt little horn, chuckling at the pinch Karkat gave him in return and the grumble against his chest. A corner of his mind was counting down the time they still had. If he'd wanted to, he could've gone over and tracked Rose's phone as it came closer. It was easier to do things this way though, losing the greater part of himself in half-awake Karkat. Thirty minutes left. Twenty. Fifteen - he was probably cutting it too close, but it wasn't like they needed to shower or anything. Ten, well, that was probably good enough.

He sighed.

"Alright, we should probably get up."

A grunt was the trolls reply, then, "How far out are they?"

"Probably about ten minutes."

That did earn him a punch, and shriek, and he was left clutching cold, cold air as Karkat ran to go get ready.

The bottom dropped out again, though it was different than before. Now he was less anxious than just impatient. Getting up he made his bed, checked his hair in the mirror on the wall - fuck, why the fuck was he preening for Egbert - and looked around to make sure everything was in its place. Fuck, was the bathroom clean? Kitchen? Living room? Shit, did everything smell ok? He should've baked a fucking cake just to be ironic. A little welcome home present. Fuck he should've baked a whole room full of cakes, been the ultimate ironic, welcome home just like your dad where was Karkat -

He fell into the futon in their shared living space, staring at the huge television and all the gaming system and games he'd bought when the first check from his trust had cleared. It reminded him of the old apartment somewhat. No freakin puppets, of course - except for the Mr. T one that Sollux had gotten him just to be a dick.

He really had liked that puppet as a kid. Ironically, of course, but he figured that sincerity was irony at some point, like fifty levels down on the irony scale.

A door opened behind him and he jumped, turning to stare at the front door expectantly, but nope, nothin.

Instead he just heard an exasperated sigh. "You're pathetic."