Be Karkat Vantas

Holy shit I was bored. Even I had my limits when it came to how long I could watch romcoms. Six hours was bordering on ridiculous. Still, it was a lot better than whatever was happening downstairs.

Kankri, my annoying older brother, had some friends over, and I couldn't stand any of them. Except Meenah, I guess, but it was awkward being around her because I'd had a crush on her a few years ago. Latula was okay, too, but I'd also had a thing with her little sister in 7th grade. Okay, I didn't really dislike any of them, I just hated being around my brother.

I vaguely heard the doorbell ring, but ignored it. As bored as I was, My Big Fat Greek Wedding was a lot more intriguing than another one of Kankri's friends.

"YO, KARKAT!" Meenah called up a moment later. "Some hottie named Dave is here for ya!"

SHIT.

Be Dave Strider

I knew Karkat wanted to go on a real date. I also knew Karkat was spending the day away from his laptop, as I'd spent about half an hour rambling into Pesterchum, waiting for a reply. Eventually I just gave up and drove over to his house, planning on taking him to an ironically fancy restaurant, like out of one of his romcoms. I wasn't prepared for a bunch of upperclassmen hanging around in his living room. I could spot Karkat's brother immediately; they looked exactly alike, except for the wardrobe.

"Who are you?" Kankri asked, eyes narrowed and a single eyebrow arched. I could already tell we weren't going to get along.

"Your brother's boyfriend," I responded, poker face on.

The room, complete with the ghetto girl who'd greeted me, a cat-girl, a mime-juggalo, a tatted chick, plus a skater girl and her helmeted boyfriend, stared at me, a little shocked. After only a few seconds of stony silence, Karkat came barreling down the stairs and then at me, shoving me out the door and slamming it behind him.

"PLEASE TELL ME YOU DIDN'T TALK!" he yelled, oddly frantic.

Raising an eyebrow, I responded, "I said-"

Kankri opened the front door, saying, "Karkat, I'm deeply ashamed of you for not informing me sooner about-"

"YOU TOLD HIM?!" Karkat screamed at me.

"Yes," Elder Vantas answered, "and he was right to do so. You have once again decided to not share important information with me, and it's greatly troubling and a bit disheartening that you would consciously choose to do so. And, no offense intended, but your choice in . . . partners is also a bit worrying, and I-"

"TRIGGERED!" Karkat shouted like a madman. "I'M TRIGGERED! YOU'VE TRIGGERED ME! YOU'VE TRIGGERED AND SHOT ME!"

And with that nonsense, Karkat grabbed my wrist and started running. We didn't stop until we were two streets away, in front of Rose's house.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Kankri," Karkat huffed out, doubled over. "Major asshole. Best avoided."

"Huh," I responded, looking back in the direction we came. "So we both have assholes who won't shut up for brothers."

"He doesn't know," Karkat said, looking up at me. "He doesn't know that we're dating or that I'm gay."

I chuckled. "Well, he does now."

Karkat groaned, collapsing into a melodramatic ball in the snow-covered grass. "I will never hear the end of this, y'know."

"How 'bout," I responded, kneeling down, "to repay you, I take you out for dinner at Vocelli's?"

He peaked his head out, asking, "You have money for Vocelli's?"

I shrugged. "Been saving up. Doing extra chores and stuff for Bro."

Karkat sat up, apparently not minding that his ass was frozen in the snow. "We're going on a date?"

I nodded.

"Okay," he mumbled quietly after a moment. "I won't painfully castrate you for telling my brother then, you fucking thoughtful dickweed."

I allowed myself to smirk before sticking my hand out to help him up.


Be Karkat

Three hours later, we found ourselves in a dingy joint called Patty's. The dull paint on the walls was chipping, the nasty tile floor was crawling with ants, and the table was covered in yesterday's special sauce.

"I'm sorry," Dave muttered, looking down at his lap from across the table.

Strider had managed to make several wrong turns and refused to ask to me or a stranger for help. It led to a giant screaming match in the car, where I pulled out all of my creative names and won. Still, this shithole was where we ended up.

"About what?" I prompted, simultaneously bitter and pompous.

He huffed, "About getting us lost and ending up in this shithole."

Our waitress, who looked vaguely familiar to me, came up and asked what we'd like to drink in a strange accent. We both ordered Cokes, and as she walked away, we heard her mumbling things in some Asian language.

"So," Strider said, holding his menu up, "how's the chicken sound?"

This was barely real food. Their entrees consisted of soggy-looking hamburgers, greasy chicken fingers, burnt pizza, over-cooked spaghetti, and some macaroni that . . . actually didn't look half-bad.

"Terrible," I responded. "The macaroni looks good, though."

"And by 'good'," he corrected, "you mean 'like food'."

The woman came back with our Cokes, and as she asked if we needed more time, I saw her name tag.

"Damara?" I asked.

She raised an eyebrow. "Do I know you?"

I was about to tell her I was Kankri's brother before Dave broke in and ordered two "mac n' cheeses." She nodded and left, muttering slightly louder than before.

"What was that about?" I hissed. "She's one of Kankri's friends!"

"And she's one of Bro's exes," Dave replied after taking a sip of his drink.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "How old is your brother?"

"What really counts is that he had no idea how old Megido was."

I rolled my eyes. "Either way, it's not like I was telling her who you were."

"You really don't know anything about her, do you?"

I shrugged and said defensively, "I don't care about Kankri's friends."

Dave leaned across the table and waited for me to do the same, When I was close enough, he told me, "She's gotten into some weird shit. We're pretty sure she killed a dude or two."

I gave him a disbelieving look.

"Just believe me on this one and keep your head down when she comes over."

I sighed at his ridiculousness, but told him I would.

After Damara took away our yellowed, cheesy plates, Dave apologized again.

I shrugged and told him honestly, "I don't really care where we go."

Strider raised an eyebrow. "You don't?"

"Well, I mean, for as much as you fucked this up," I responded, blushing slightly, "we did end up at a place with some fucking terrific macaroni and cheese."

"You meant something else," Dave said, smirking slightly. "Something sappier."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"No."

"Yeah."

"Fine," I surrendered, scowling as he smirked. "I don't really care where we go . . . as long as we go together."

Be Dave

He was rewarded with lots of sloppy makeouts in the car.