A/N: i dont even. i'm sorry for all my terrible writing.
Groan.
You hit your head against the steering wheel of your vehicle, which wasn't really yours. It was a van modified with a ramp for Tavros' wheelchair. At first, you thought rolling up to school every day in this thing would be embarrassing. But your brother's disability, along with how much you and Tavros normally seemed to naturally gather attention regardless of what you did, you decided you didn't give a shit. Driving Tavros to school was a lot more important than having a sweet ride.
Besides, it was huge inside the van, meaning you had more than enough space inside for piling inside with your friends with alcohol, or piling inside the van with...entirely different reasons altogether.
Usually, you didn't care a whole lot about time. Tavros meant a lot to you, of course, and you were chill enough that when you caught him with some weed, you didn't flip out. Whatever, right? But- you had a date- and Tavros was taking forever on getting his ass into the van. You drum your fingers against the steering wheel, looking around for your brother- and then you spot him. He's being pushed along by some tall, beanpole of a dude with his hood pulled up. Tavros is grinning wide and laughing, and so is this guy he's with- you frown, wondering momentarily who the hell this creep is, pushing your brother along. Then you remember you had a date, and you roll down the window to yell at your brother.
"Hey, man...move it along! I got shit to do!" Tavros jumps, obviously not used to you yelling at him openly. Beanpole here on the other hand, just sort keeps grinning and helps Tavros into the van. You stare at him a little, trying to figure out why he looks familiar, but then you decide you don't give a flying shit. Soon enough Tavros is in the van and you're off, pulling out of the parking lot without allowing your brother to say bye to his friend. You're too anxious to care.
Was your hair alright? Did you overdress? Did you under dress? Maybe wearing your favorite septum piercing was too much. Was this really a date? All these questions are running through your head, you didn't notice Tavros bitching at you from the back of the van. "Hey, asshole! I was, uh, taking to you!"
You almost stomp on the breaks out of surprise and swerve a little. You were sweating a little from how nervous you were. You really hated sweat. It reminded you too much of Horrus. "What?" You ask, a little freaked out by how, well, freaked out you already were, which seems to make Tavros freak out a little too.
"Don't kill us!" His voice comes shrill, and you even yourself and your driving out.
"Shut up! What were you talking about before?" You snap, and you're driving close to your residential area. You and your family had moved close to the school just for Tavros, in case something happened with the van that he couldn't get a driver for the day. It was still easier to drive him.
You glance back and you see that Tavros is glaring at you. "What was that about? I didn't, uh, get to say goodbye to Gamzee!"
Gamzee? You drive into your residential area and find your street with ease. "I'm sorry, I just...damn. I'm really nervous, okay? I have somewhere to be."
Tavros shuts up like you wanted him to, which is unsettling for some reason; you pull up next to your house and park. You look back at him, and he has this smirk stretched across his lips and you immediately dislike it. "Somewhere to be? You have a, um, a date, don't you?" Fucker. You climb out of the van and help Tavros out of the van and down the ramp, and all the while he's patronizing you. "I thought you were, trying to, break up with Horrus, though? So why would you, uh, date him?"
As soon as he touches the ground securely you're packing the van up, closing up the ramp and doors before he can say much more. "Unless it's not Horrus. It can't be, um, Damara, that would just be, uh, insane, even for you." His grin widens and you sweat a little more. "So who is it? Do I, um, know them?"
You open the van doors and toss Tavros' book bag into his lap, along with your own, with blush quickly spreading across your cheeks. "Shut up, just, shut up, okay?" You manage, before you take a deep breath. You tug at your jacket- it was one of your favorite leather jackets with metal studs and band patches everywhere. "Do I look okay? Should I change? What if-"
Tavros wrinkles his nose and grabs the front of your shirt and tugs you down to his level, and licks his hand and smoothes out your hair. You try to jerk away in disgust, but he holds you steady. After a moment of him scrutinizing you, he gives your cheek a slap that stings a little, but you knew he didn't mean it in a bad way. He was helping, and you had to calm your ass down. "You look like, um, a moron, as usual. I wouldn't wear that, but, um, if they've already agreed to date you, they've probably already seen you, so, you've both crossed the line of, uhh, no return." You open your mouth to retort, but you sigh and kick at the sidewalk a little with your red Doc Martens and decide he's right.
Tavros sighs and pats your shirt down, expression softening a little. "Ugh. I'm sorry. You look fine, okay? You look, um, great. Go and sweep them off their feet, or, whatever it is you're going to do. You can tell me about it later." You smile, and he holds up his hand. "But not in great detail. Okay?"
You nod and ruffle his hair, which makes him make an indignant squeak, which also causes you to laugh. "Thanks, baby brother." You reach for his hair again and he swats you away, and you tear off to the other side of the van, laughing to yourself as you do. You hear some expletives in Spanish come after you as you jump into the van and start it up again. Tavros flips you off as you drive away.
You feel a lot better.
You feel not so good again as you drive up to your favorite cafe. On a normal day, you would be relieved- being a college bound senior was getting to you, and you didn't like bringing your dates here- without a doubt, Damara would steal this place from you if she knew. You loved your coffee and all the food they offered you here; the staff liked you and gave you free food occasionally and the baristas were always cute, older girls that you flirted with harmlessly.
All in all, you really hoped asking Kurloz here was a good move.
You walk in, the smell of ground coffee beans and the bell hitting the door greets you as always, but it doesn't quell the feeling in your stomach. You look around, and you don't see that mass of curls that you'd manage to miss seeing all day in school somehow. Then, there it is- you see Kurloz peeking at you from behind a decorative screen, sitting in some of the couches the cafe offered. You started towards him, but he got up and motioned to a small table off to the side, and you follow him.
God, he looked great. You didn't recognize him for a moment, because he had some white and black face paint on his face, something that reminded you of the day of the dead, which was pretty bangarang. His sweater was baggy and his jeans were tight, and you felt a little better about how you dressed. Kurloz settled himself into a chair across from you, and he grinned at you. This grin was warm and friendly- this also almost makes him unrecognizable from the seemingly shy boy you'd been staring at for the past couple of months. "Hey, doll." You greet after a moment, realizing that you had been silent up until this point.
Kurloz holds a finger to his lips, and then he reaches down and grabs his bag you hadn't noticed he'd been carrying before. He pulls out a notebook and he gives you a pen, holding a pen himself, and you're relieved. You feel like an ass, for not having figured it out for him, but Kurloz seems to have himself and this date already figured out. ["hey doll."] He jots out and adds a smiley face that seems to have a nose for some reason. You blush, realizing that he was teasing you for calling him doll.
"...Sorry. It's kind of a habit...I like calling people that...especially people I like." That probably sounded corny. The other boy seems to take it in stride, though- and he writes as fast as he texts.
["It's okay, bro. No need to worry. Although it's kind of motherfucking cute when you do. I was just teasing."] Cute? Did he just call you cute?
Being apparently called cute did nothing for the temperature of your face and all you manage is an awkward laugh. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long..." You try to change the subject, hoping he doesn't notice the heat in your cheeks.
Kurloz' mass of curls move as he shakes his head and he reaches across the table to tap at your hand with a long finger, and he's grinning at you. Your face heats up even more. You were almost positive that this was a date now, but you should ask anyways. "Yeah?" You ask after a moment of not-so-subtly staring (admiring).
Kurloz jots something down again and the heat just gets worse. ["Your face is a real motherfuckin' sweet shade of pink, bro."]
Your nervous laughing increase and you tug at the collar of your shirt, and then slide the leather off your shoulders. "I-it's a little hot in here, don't you think?" Kurloz shakes his head, seemingly content in his layers of knitted fabrics. The smile across his lips just widens a little and you move to stand, but then you realize that this was the moment you were waiting for, and you clear your throat, desperately trying to ignore how flushed your shoulders up still felt. "I-I, um, I have a question, doll."
A question mark appears on the paper, and you sit a little straighter, trying to appear as though this wasn't a big deal to you, which it was. "I...I was wondering...don't take this wrong, okay?" You pause and hold your hands up defensively, and Kurloz nods his jaw towards you, as though to encourage you. "...Is this a...date?"
Kurloz' smile falters a little, just for a moment, and this worries you. The thin boy pulls the paper a little closer and scrawls something out for you to read. ["I was all up and wondering when the fuck a brother would ask. Yeah man, I'd like for this to be a date. It would be something like a miracle for me."] Kurloz sits back a little and frowns, and taps the pen to his chin. ["but you're dating that ridiculous ass agricultural brother, ain't you?"]
A frown replaces the retreating shade of red you were sporting as confusion wins you over. Ridiculous ass agricultural brother? Then it hits you. "Oh! You mean Horrus." Kurloz sort of grimaces, and then nods and stares at his lap, looking as if you were less interesting and intimidating then whatever it was he was fidgeting with. His streak of shyness, you think, and you smile a little. You weren't all too happy that Kurloz knew you were spoken for, but he seemed timid about it. Your chest tightened with fondness. "...Well...yeah. I guess I am dating that dude...but...it's not so much dating anymore, as it is a front. An...excuse, almost." You laugh a little, bitterly. Blue eyes narrow a little in confusion at you, and you sigh.
Better make with the story-telling. "I guess...it seems that way, doesn't it? This will...probably sound real shitty of me, but...I don't feel that way about him anymore. I...I'm pretty sure he's...well, crazy about me." You bite your lip and tuck your hand behind your neck, rubbing a little. "And uh...I don't mean that as if to say, I'm hot shit, 'cause I ain't." More nervous laughter leaves you and Kurloz' hand moves with his pen.
["I'd like to all up and disagree with you right there, motherfucker. But I'm listening."] You try to ignore the burning sensation along your ears and continue speaking.
"Ha ha...shit. You really gotta quit saying shit like that, man." You stutter a little and Kurloz draws himself in a loose shrug and smiles at you. "Well...I say he's crazy, because he keeps calling me and texting me, and messaging me online...like...all the time." You pause. "Which wouldn't be so bad...but he keeps leaving weird shit and comments on my facebook wall, you dig? A guy can only handle being sent flirty shit online before he gets real tired of it..." You cringe a little, realizing that you were complaining. "Sorry. It's just...he's smothering me. He always wants to see me and hang out, and go out and do shit...and...he's a really great guy. He really, really is." You frown. "But I feel like...we weren't ever meant to go out, you know? Like...he shoulda been my best friend, instead of my boyfriend, or something. I keep trying to break it off, but he keeps changing the subject, or he says he didn't hear what I said or..." You trail off, and you don't notice that you're doing it, but you had become tense and ridged. Kurloz presses a finger to your lips, effectively shushing you, and he motions to himself.
Kurloz' shoulders rise a little as he audibly inhales, gesturing for you to also breathe in, which you do. Then he lowers his hand as he exhales, and so do you, and he pulls his hand away and pokes you on the nose. The pen is picked up again. ["Relax, bro. I got it. You don't have all them wicked feels for a motherfucker anymore. That's some pretty-natural sounding shit, and I don't have any notions of going and disagreeing with you. I think that sorta noise being directed at my own motherfucking self would have gotten me all turned off and shit too."] The way Kurloz types and writes has you re-reading things and almost mouthing what he says, but the message eventually hits home and you untangle yourself a little.
Kurloz reaches out and gently takes your hand away from your other hand, which you hadn't realized you were wringing. ["It's aight, brother. I kind of got my motherfucking understanding on that you ain't got the best luck with all this romance noise. I been around, and I've seen the way that weeaboo chica Damara all up and gets to be around a wicked doll like you."] You blush a little at how he'd picked up your slang.
"...Yeah. That's about all of it. I ain't trying to cheat on him, but I kind of don't consider him...my boyfriend anymore. I stopped returning all his calls and shit, and I'm avoiding him the best I can, and...I'm just hoping he gets the goddamn message." Kurloz' hand tightens a little around yours in a way that isn't at all unpleasant, or unwelcome. You wish your heart would slow down a little. It's not as if your hand has never been held before.
["I understand. That leaves one question behind though, my righteous brother."] You look from the paper to Kurloz, brows furrowing questioningly. Kurloz pauses a moment, and he looks away, pen hesitating over the paper before he starts writing again. ["Do you want this to all up and be some kind of date?"]
Oh. Oh, that does it. Your chest constricts and your hand twitches in his grasp and he loosens it. You wish he wouldn't. Your heart is beating embarrassingly fast, and you're not sure if it's because of how confused you were, or if it's because of how your apparent date looked so ready to be rejected. You muster what little bit of courage and confidence you have and tilt your hand to slide your fingers around Kurloz' and give them a squeeze. Kurloz had looked away again, looking dejected but he perked up at this, blue eyes widening a little. "...I'd like this to be a date, yeah. If...if it's not too much trouble..." You smile nervously and you're sure you're trembling, because your smile feels fake. It is fake, and he can probably tell, but at least you're trying. You're so nervous.
Your potential boyfriend stares at you for a moment before he drops the pen and brings his free index finger to his lips and kisses the tip of it, and then reaches over and presses the pad of his index finger to your lips. Damn it. Damn this guy. The color flares up all over you again and a breathy noise leaves Kurloz, which you realize is his laugh. Then it's all over.
Just then, though you don't subconsciously realize it, you've fallen for Kurloz Makara. New words appear on the paper. ["MOTHERFUCKING RIGHTOUS, MY BROTHER. Or how was it that you've always liked to say? Bangarang?"]
You stare at the word for a moment before you dissolve into a fit of laughs. Damn it. Damn, damn, damn. "Oh my god...yeah, man. Bangarang. So...do you want some coffee then, my brother?" You think you see a little bit of red tint the white of his face paint and he shies away for the briefest of moments before he draws closer again and stands up and nods, paper abandoned.
You also stand and tug on the sleeve of his sweater, motioning for him to follow you to the counter. Kurloz trails after you as your bring him to the counter of the cafe, and you order your usual, plus a couple of sandwiches. You look to Kurloz and ask what he wants, and he sort of gives you a disappointed look, and you remember. Oh, yeah. You're the worst date ever. Kurloz ends up pointing to a section of the menu, and you read out the list of beverages before he nods at what he wants. He gives you a playful shove and you give one back, leaving you both sort of giggling for a moment. The cute girl that usually serves you sort of raises an eyebrow at you as you tell her Kurloz' order.
You stiffen a little as you see a macabre sort of wallet appear in Kurloz' hands, and you realize the motherfucker is trying to pay for your food. You snatch the wallet from his hands and tuck it under your arm as you fish your own wallet out and quickly pull out a bill and hand it to the barista, who is looking more and more amused with the two of you. Kurloz reaches around and makes to grab for his wallet and you turn away. Once the barista turns around to start filling your orders, you feel a pinch on your rear, and you jump and drop his wallet. Kurloz dips to scoop it up and makes that breathy noise again to laugh, and you blush. Okay, maybe he isn't shy. It's pretty clear that Kurloz is just fucking with you.
All of your first-date nervousness is deserted as you both shove and prod each other around, and soon your both have your drinks and food and you return to your table. Kurloz steals your seat and wiggles his way into your jacket, and damn he must be all sweater and nothing else, because he manages to stuff himself into your leather jacket somehow with his thick sweater on. You're not even annoyed or amused, you're just sort of impressed, and you take his seat. "Goddamn, man. Do you eat? You're skin and bones."
A lethargic shrug comes from your date, and Kurloz tugs the paper and pen close. ["Nice jacket."] You blush a little again, because you had been feeling pretty lousy about your outfit earlier. Then you notice that his eyes are on you, and you're not sure if he's looking at your outfit or checking you out, but you feel self-conscious about it either way. You decide you kind of really want to kiss him, but it's only the first date, and if all your romance failures have taught you anything, you've learned not to get too touchy too soon. Instead of kissing him, you grab your sandwich and shove it into your face, ignoring how he was smirking at you.
You two eat for a while, and you end up shoving your sandwich into his face, because he keeps writing ridiculously sweet and flirty things at you, trying to get a rise out of you. It's much different than the way Horrus flirts with you, and for some reason, you enjoy it. You had decided before that you hated flirting, but Kurloz was...making it fun.
After you finish your sandwich (read: Kurloz steals your sandwich and you let him, because he's way too skinny) you notice that he's still wearing your stupid jacket. You huff in frustration, because he hadn't left anything of his behind for you to steal. You kick something, and look down, and notice his bag. You grab the strap and pull it into your lap and open it up before he notices. As soon as you're forearm deep, Kurloz notices that you're digging through his bag and he sort of flails. You excavate his bag a little more, and then success, you find it. You find a tee shirt and you pull it over your own tee shirt, feeling a little ridiculous. Once Kurloz sees what you're wearing he deflates and looks a little sheepish, and you look down. You're wearing an Insane Clown Posse shirt, and you can't help but laugh.
"ICP? Ah shit, I shoulda guessed." Kurloz continues to look flustered, and even though it's cute, you want him to smile, so you nudge him. "Don't worry man, I'll be your goddamn ninja or whatever."
Kurloz' smile is instantly wide and genuine, and for the first time you're glad you know a little bit about juggalo culture. You finish your drinks and head out to the small parking lot in front of the building, and you guess it's time to say goodbye to your date.
No kissing, you remind yourself. You slide just a little closer, and your doc martens bump into his converse. Oops. You had tried to give him his shirt back, but he insisted that you keep it. You look up at Kurloz, and glance at your van. "I...well...damn. I haven't been on a date that's been this fun before. Thanks, man. It was great. Can...we do it again?" You ask, nervously.
Kurloz nods and leans close, with his eyelids lowering. You tense up as you realize too late he wants to kiss you, so all you can do is awkwardly tilt your head away, and he ends up kissing your cheek, and almost your jaw, because he's not as tall as you. The look of hurt he gives you comes instantly and you look away, regretting it a little.
"...Shit. I'm sorry. Not yet, okay? And...maybe not in public..." Kurloz' mouth had set into a firm line, but he seems to consider this, and he nods. You pull him in for a hug and kiss his cheek back, close to the corner of his lips. A smile rises on his lips again, and he seems to have forgiven you. He hugs you back and you stand there for a moment, before he pulls away and hands you a note.
["You need to learn sign language, motherfucker."]
You kiss Kurloz on the cheek again before you shove him away with a laugh, nodding in agreement to his statement. Kurloz flips you off, and then makes a heart with his hands as you walk away from each other to your respective vehicles.
You climb in and watch him drive off, and he flips you off again. You laugh and lean against your steering wheel a little, smiling at the fluttering feeling in the pit of your stomach.