Kill me now, please. I can't even handle what I wrote. The beginning, and especially the end. Oh Geez.
Also, I'm sorry I can't Karkat. ._. Just putting that out there, I don't pretend to know how to Karkat. If you have any pointers on how to do so, I will gladly accept constructive criticism for such a thing.
Last thing: I wanted to thank those of you reading this story for reading, and I hope that you continue to stick with it until the end. I would love to have people comment/review and reblog (depending on what site you read this on), but it's nothing big if you don't. It'll help encourage me to keep writing, but I don't think I'll be giving up on this anytime soon, regardless.
But again, thanks, and enjoy!~
He pulls on your collar to bring you down to his level, smashing his lips roughly into your own. Your eyes open wide, and you contemplate pulling away, but he presses ever so desperately against you, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his waist, twirling him around to land – albeit, forcibly – on your mattress. Every motion is rushed as your lips part for a brief moment while you scramble to clamber on top of him, his legs straddling your hips mechanically. The two of you eagerly kiss again, his hands tangling in your golden brown hair, your own fingers tracing up and down his sides. Gently yet hastily, your lips wander lower, teasing his neck with slight nips, following the line of his collarbone. Hushed mewls streamed with heated lust escape him, and you can't help but to roll your hips downward into to his to create friction between both of your growing erections. Nails raked your shoulders, fingers coming to clench in the cloth of your shirt, as his back arches, frantic for another wave of pleasure.
From beneath his dark, coppery-brown hair, you can see his grey orbs piercing into your dichromatic eyes, full of yearning, seeming now to energize your every move. He clawed at your shirt, and you quickly brought him up with you, pulling him into your lap. You grab the hem of his shirt, and he readily allows you to pull it over his head. Before he has a chance to undress you, you teasingly grind your hips again, grabbing him at the waist to drag him down against you. An animalistic growl emanates from deep in his throat as another jolt shoots through you. Finally, he grabs your ridiculous clothing, and rips it away from you, throwing it to the floor. He attacks your bare chest with kisses and full-on bites. You embrace him to your chest so you can lay him back against the mattress while he continues to leave livid red marks on your skin. Your partner takes more control by driving his own groin upward into yours, eliciting simultaneous moans from you both.
Growing impatient, you grab a handful of his hair and nearly jerk his head back, crushing your lips to his. Your hand glides down his front on its own accord, and begins to play with the button of his pants. Yours have become uncomfortably tight, and – judging by the tent protruding from his jeans – you imagine the feeling was mutual. Still kissing him, your single hand conquers the button and zipper, and begins to play with the elastic of his boxers. You tug up, and let the rubber snap back down, causing him to inhale sharply, pulling away from your face, and hiss as he releases the air.
Just as your hand begins to slither its way down the front of his boxers, you hear the Zelda "Secret Passage Found" tone from your phone, informing you of a text. You desperately want to ignore it, but you can't keep your eyes from agonizingly twitching open. It takes you a moment, but you finally register that you're lying on your back, and that your room was as empty as when you had fallen asleep. You sigh and shift your lower half in an attempt to get more comfortable, only to find that you had gone to bed with your skinny jeans on, and that they were excruciatingly tight in certain vicinities. That was when the realization of what had been going on in your dream hit you like a comet the size of planet fucking Jupiter.
With an annoyed sigh you reach for your phone (and unzip your pants to gain some moving room) still high from sleep, even at – you unlock the screen – two o'clock in the afternoon. Below the clock on the device, you see the notification for the message, showing you a picture of a particular blonde kid with aviators, labeled under "2cumbag" in your contacts list.
"You are fucking thitting me, Thtrider…" you groan to yourself after reading his text for your plans to hang out, trailing off, another surge of realization coming to your barely conscious mind. Was I doing that with who I think I was…in that dream? you ask yourself. "You are fucking thitting me," you repeat, louder this time, stunning yourself with this newfound recognition. Holy…shit. Shit, shit, shit, motherfucking son of a bitch bastard. You can't even think straight anymore. You quickly formulate some theories to your suddenly eccentric dream, but quickly push them aside; they were all missing one key element for such a thing to be true, and you were positive that that element did not even exist… Right? You were so horrible with self-analysis!
You hastily text Dave back, telling him to go ahead and come over, and to bring his sister, Rose. You weren't very good friends with her simply because you had only met her once or twice, but your best bro always carped about her "psycho bullshit" and you figure talking to her could help you figure this mess out, although awkward if you mention the wet dream. But you were willing to do anything at this point.
You lay on your bed a few minutes more, half because you're still in pure disbelief of your possible conclusion, and the rest because you're still waiting for Dave to text back. Your phone chimes again, making you jump due to the sudden lack of silence.
"why does the flighty broad need to come"
"ii have two talk two her, that'2 all."
"what could you possibly need to talk to her about that you cant come to your only best bro for"
"you'll fiind out when you briing her over."
"whatever bro"
You slide your phone closed and throw it next to you on the bed, at a loss for what to do. Your morning wood isn't as bad as it was, so you zip up your pants and roll of off your bed, grabbing a clean pair of shorts and boxers, and make your way to the bathroom to take a shower.
As the scalding water runs down your back, your thoughts dwell on your dream, the blood rising to your cheeks. You feel guilty for dreaming something like that, and for no apparent reason. Especially now that- the complete thought made you want to punch a wall. Especially now that Karkat was dating someone. Under any other circumstance, you would be happy for him, even if there was a possibility of a certain attraction to your best friend. But, no, he had to go and date just about the biggest douche bag you had ever met, second only to Dave. Actually, maybe second only to you after what had happened when Karkat had told you he was dating Eridan.
You would never be shallow enough to be – or at least, admit to being – jealous, but this guy your roommate was dating just didn't give you the most comfortable feeling, to say the least, and you didn't want Karkat to get hurt, even if your maybe-not-existent desire to be with him wasn't requited.
And why would it be? Wait, do you even want it to be? Shit, you mean was there even anything to even be requited? You weren't sure you even swung that way, for fuck's sake!
What a mess, you think to yourself as you step out of the shower, running a towel carelessly through your hair. You quickly get dressed and decide to brave a look outside of your connected bedroom and bathroom to see if Karkat's still at home. Finding that he isn't, you heave a sigh of relief until you imagine where he might be, and who with. Unconsciously clenching your teeth, you make your way to the small kitchen to fix something simple – like toast – to gorge yourself with until Strider and Rose arrived.
You didn't have long to wait before there was a knock on your door, and an obnoxiously stoic voice at the door saying "Yo, Sollux, you gonna eat that pizza you ordered?" With a fair amount of effort after your "early-morning" self-pitying, you throw the plate onto the coffee table, and stand to allow your guests entry.
"I didn't order any pizza, Thrider-" you tell him as you swing the door open.
"Dibs," Dave declares as he pushes past you, heading straight for the couch, indeed carrying a pizza from the same company he worked for. You shake your head at the sheer assholery from someone who calls you a bro, turning back to address the lady.
"It's lovely to see you again, Sollux," Rose greets you, her hands folded in front of her.
"You too, Lalonde. Pleathe, make yourthelf at home."
"Thank you."
After closing the door, you offer the two of them something to drink – Dave asks for whatever kind of soda you have (his mouth stuffed with chunks of pizza) and Rose settles for water "since you don't appear to be the type to drink tea, and I know Karkat better than that" – and settle on the floor on the opposite side of the table. The three of you sit in near silence for a moment, Dave's wolfing down of his lunch being the only sound. God, sometimes he could be so uncool.
It had seemed like an eternity before Rose had finally broken the silence. "So, Sollux, I am led to believe there was an exclusive motive for my being present."
"Uh, yeah, I gueth."
"Alright, I heard a 'no' there, so Rose, I guess that means you can go," Dave said. "Here take my car keys, and pick me up in a few hours, will you?"
"Dave, please do attempt to be civil," Rose pleaded. "I have come to assume that this is a rather staid affair?" She crossed her legs, the sentence forming as a question aimed toward you, instead of a statement to convince Dave of the importance of her presence.
"Dependth on what you call 'thtaid'. That doeth mean theriouth, right?"
"Of course," she said with a small giggle. "Excuse me if I jumped to conclusions, but I consider that as the most plausible of a very select few of reasons as to why a friend of my…dear brother's would ask to speak with me."
"It theemth ath though it wath the right choice."
"So it would seem. Now, what is it that's troubling you?"
"Ah shit, Sollux, what have you gotten yourself into?" Dave interjected. "She's actually fucking intrigued; that means trouble."
"Hush, hush."
You proceed to tell them about Eridan, and exactly the way he seemed to treat you and Karkat. You don't fail to mention the anger you felt when he was too close to your roommate for comfort, and how in the past few weeks, you've gotten that sensation running down your spine whenever the short brunette looked at you with his hard eyes. By the time you finish, Rose is staring at you harder than she was when your story began; you figure she was simply lost in thought.
"Bro, she's studying you hard," Dave commented. She moved to back-hand him on the arm – more gently than you would have hoped – and returned to rest a loose fist against her chin, still not breaking eye contact with you.
After a moment of a harmless stare-down between the two of you, her thin, black lips parted. "What happened yesterday after he informed you of his current relationship status?"
"I jutht…thorta thut down. I didn't thay a word to him after that, and thtill haven't."
"Why?"
"Becauthe I wath tho…hurt, I gueth."
She lightly hummed in consideration. "There's something else, isn't there? Something you don't much care to divulge."
"Yeah, he likes Karkat, big deal." Again, Rose reached out, this time to push Strider's head away with more force than she hit him, in an attempt to shut him up. It only encouraged him. "Sollux loves Karkat. Sollux loves Karkat," he drawled with a faint southern accent in a voice that screamed "bored."
Ignoring him, you continue to mull over your options about telling them about the dream, your guilty gaze falling to the floor. You glance back up to Rose, her intent lavender eyes staring expectantly through you, determined not to take no for an answer. With a sigh, you admit to there being something else. "I had a dream. It included him. It wath…um." You didn't know exactly how to word it. Either way, the ridicule would never end with this particular best friend of yours sitting there. A blush rose to your cheeks.
"Oh, my damn," Dave mused, most likely in understanding. "Bro, you've got it bad if you're having wet dreams abou-"
"No need to go further!" Rose sent a warning glare in her brother's direction, his hands lazily tilting up at the wrists in defense. Turning back to you, she asked "So, what exactly did you expect to learn by speaking with me?"
"Well, I wath jutht wondering if you could tell me the reathon behind all of thith-"
"The answer's pretty fucking obvious, Captor."
"Thut up, Thrider! I didn't athk for your opinion."
"I hate to admit it, Sollux. There aren't many- actually, there aren't any other explanations."
"But I don't even know if I'm…homothexual. Or even bithexual! Ethpecially toward that thort athhole."
"I'm sorry, but-"
Rose's sentence was cut short by the door opening, as said short asshole entered. He stopped part way through closing the door when he noticed that you had company over.
"Hello, Karkat," Rose greeted him.
Your gaze turned away from him once he started moving again, closing the door and coming to stand next to the end of the coffee table. "Lalonde." He gave a bitter chuckle. "So much for both of our opinions being taken into consideration…" His intense gaze fell to Dave.
Feeling your heart pounding in your chest – partially because his attitude toward you was painful, the rest from anger at being accused of being a hypocrite – you kept your voice level as you spoke. "You invited thomeone over yethterday that we didn't agree on. It wath my turn."
"Fuckass," Karkat mumbled, walking away toward his room, and slamming the door shut.
You had to take multiple deep breaths to calm yourself down, Rose coming over to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "As I was saying," she began in a lowered voice, "I believe it would be best if you tried to decipher your feelings yourself, though they already seem evident to everyone else. It wouldn't hurt to apologize, either." Your counselor stood, walking to the door, and turning back to Dave as she made a quick exit. "I'll be walking to the library around the corner. Text me when you're done here, and – please – do come get me to take me home. I hope everything works out in your favor, Sollux, however that may be." With that, you wave, and she nods in acknowledgement as she closes the door.
Dave gave a low whistle. "Damn-"
"Don't! Thay. A word." You sighed as you ran a hand carelessly through your hair. Suddenly you feel you know even less than you did. When you glare in Strider's direction, he immediately stops humming "Hide 'n Seek" when he sees your expression, and chuckles when you throw a remote at his chest.
"We're going to go the McDonald'th," you yell through Karkat's door. When you don't hear a reply, you sigh and crack the door open. Without much sincerity, you ask "Do you want anything?"
He's lying on his stomach on his bed, looking at a paper in front of him, with his hand up by his ear. "Wait, hang on a sec." Karkat places his free hand over the receiver of the phone, hissing out a harsh "What?"
"Do you want. Anything. From McDonald'th?" you ask again with the same manner he used.
"Are you really that fucking blind? I'm on the phone, dipshit!"
"Ekthcuthe me for trying to be civil."
Clearly that was the end of the conversation, seen as how he turned his attention back to whoever was on the other end of the phone. "Hey, Eridan. I'm back."
There was a slight pause, and your stomach churned.
"I had to deal with a sack of worthless slew."
Another break in the conversation.
"Yeah, the nookswab I have the absolute fucking pleasure of calling my roommate."
Having heard enough after experiencing an aching twinge in your heart, you silently close the door, not wanting to disturb your former-friend's conversation further. You stood with your hand still on the doorknob, aware of Dave's inquiring look at your back. You don't care anymore; you block him out just like you wish you could with everything else: your decision to ever suggest rooming with Karkat, and especially your maybe-somewhat-present feelings toward him.
Yeah, he had always been an ass, always called everybody – very creative, you'll admit – names that were meant to insult them, but everyone came to learn that that was just…Karkat. And it's not like you'd never been able to come back at him with more insults. In all honesty, it was all in good fun, even if he was legitimately huffy by the end of it.
But now you can sense the difference; the way he talks to you, and the way he avoids you. When he calls you those names, it's not like it used to be. There isn't a faint chance that he's joking anymore. When he calls you things like "assnuzzler" and "nookswab", he is genuinely trying to hurt you. And you can't handle it. You two had always been the type of friends to poke fun and do stupid shit to insult and embarrass the other, but you still tried to be there for each other when the other needed it, even if you couldn't always solve his problems, or didn't know the right thing to say.
All of that is gone now – and you can't handle it – all because of one person.
You want so much to blame Karkat's…boyfriend for this, to pin it all on him. But you know you'd be falsely accusing him.
It wasn't his fault at all. It was entirely yours; all of it was you. All because you couldn't be accepting of his decision, all because you were having issues with the person Karkat was dating, all because you…
You didn't realize you were shaking until Dave placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to jump. As you turn, you take a sharp breath you didn't realize you were waiting on, blinking your eyes for the first time since you closed the door, taken aback when tears streamed from the corners of your eyes. God, were you really crying? And in front of Strider, of all people.
But he didn't rub it in. He simply stood next to you, rubbing your back gently with one hand while you wiped the atrocious proof of inner pain from your face, his eyebrows slightly knitted together in concern. Ever so softly, you sniffle, pulling yourself together while Dave does his best to tell you – in his own way – that he's there for you.
"C'mon, bro," he encourages. "We've got a McDonald's slide with our name on it."
You attempt a weak smile –knowing he's not joking - but it may have formed as more of a grimace. The two of you walk out of the apartment, and you can't help but steal a glance toward his bedroom.
You will make this right. And you can handle it.