Chapter Text
It was raining again. It seemed to rain here a lot, John noticed. The past few days, he began thinking about moving back down south, where the weather was warmer and less temperamental than this place. He didn't actually know exactly where he was. He'd usually care enough to make a mental note, checking one of the papers or stopping by a gas station for a map, but he was too tired to bother with it this time.
The teenage boy grimaced noticeably, hand moving to cover his stomach, which was beginning to feel emptier as the day went on. Maybe tonight would be the night he... no, he didn't want to think about it. He momentarily pondered dumpster diving to scrounge up some food, but that never seemed to help whenever he waited this long. No half-eaten hamburger or apple core was going to help now. Now that he thought about it, weren't apple cores supposed to be poisonous or something?
He sighed, looking across the street as a few cyclists weaved around him on the sidewalk. It was beginning to get dark out, though he wasn't sure if that was just because of the rain, because John never took the time to procure a watch. Either way, he should probably find some shelter.
His thoughts halted in a heartbeat as a woman in a business suit exited a coffee shop just beside the wandering teenager, her umbrella opening with a soft 'click'. John couldn't help but stare, gaze even and unblinking, and the woman gave him a slightly disgusted look. The boy blushed as she walked off in a hurry, pulling his hoodie over his head in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. It wasn't like he could blame her, because lord knew his thoughts weren't all that innocent.
He needed to find a place to rest, a place where he could sleep and forget about his empty stomach for a little while.
It was going to be a cold night.
He'd outdone himself, if by 'out doing ones self' a person were to say 'you've fucked up yet again, asshole.'
In all honesty, Karkat Vantas wondered what had EVER lead him to beg for this apprenticeship. Every day wound up with a ruined batch of bread coming home with him rather than making their way to the trash. Part of him wondered if his boss was setting him up, or if he really was just shit at everything he touched. (Hadn't his family told him that time and time again, growing up?)
The youth balanced a large bag of burnt and defective bread on his hip. Deft fingers turned the lock on the door as he let out a long frustrated sigh.
"Way to go, Vantas. Another day, another dollar, another fucked up baguette." He hauled his coat over the top of the bag to keep it dry, muttering to himself as he started down the street. "At least I'm not going to go hungry where bread is concerned. No meat, no vegetables, but I have a surplus of proof that I'm not meant to be a baker. Here lies Karkat fucking Vantas. He died of wheat overload and a severe lack of real food. Fuck me."
His apartment was a few blocks away, far enough that any person in their right mind(or the right balance in their bank account) would have taken the bus. Karkat was not one of those people. It resulted in a long walk back to the building he'd come to call home. Every step was purposeful. Each fell hard into puddles, the splashes accentuating his frustration with his role in the world. Water soaked in to his jeans and shoes, making him even more angry, somehow proving that he wasn't worthy of any sort of comfort afforded 'normal' people. Wasn't that just how the world went? Life sucked for Karkat and everyone else sat on rose petals and puked sunshine?
The approach to his apartment was a down-sloping hill, and he hated it with a passion. The rain slicked the ground, and made paths that were blocked by perpetual roadwork nearly impassable without a grip on a fence. It was a long time before he managed to come to a stop at his building, fumbling for the keys to the gate.
Chilled, numbed fingers managed to drop the tools several times, resulting in a flurry of white hot curses that allowed him to pretend he was warming up. A final fumble with the keys sent them skidding down the sidewalk, making him snarl loudly.
"How the hell do I wind up, not only out in the rain, but stuck with the most useless building in the city? You morons could have upgraded to button entry, by now. It's not that expensive, after all, but no. You act like primordial ooze with maybe half a cell to function as a thought receptacle. How the fuck did I wind up stuck here?" he stomped, spreading muddy water on the walk, fingers fishing in puddles. "God damn it."
As the disgruntled teenager made his way down the walk littered with puddles, the rusted fence behind him closed with a loud clatter that was only barely muffled by the steady rain. The apartment itself split straight down the middle, opening up to a narrow corridor where a single flight of stairs led up to the next two flights. The steps themselves creaked with each step, much like everything else in the run-down, probably maggot-ridden complex. Okay, so maybe no one here had seen maggots crawling anywhere, but the wood was so decrepit there might as well be. One of these days someone was going to break their neck walking down those stairs. Even the landlady hated walking up them in fear one step would split under her foot and send her to the emergency room, but apparently it didn't concern her enough to actually get them repaired. Or better yet, replaced.
But today, something about those annoying stairs was different. This time, there was something large and dark blue under them, in the spot where the one neighbor would toss his garbage bags instead of actually taking them out to the dumpster until trash day, subjecting all the other tenants to suffer the stink every time someone had to walk through the corridor.
Usually Karkat gave his neighbors oh-so-considerate nature the simplest sneer and walk on, but it occurred to him that he'd never seen bags come in that shade of blue. The thought occurred, as he was unlocking his apartment door, that this might actually be something he could use.
He tiptoed back down the stairs, craning his neck to see what his potential prize was.
It didn't seem like anything special, sitting beside a discarded cardboard box, the blue color almost the same shade as the dull, damp concrete of the first floor. However, by the time Karkat made an effort to get a second glance, the blue lump moved, a small sneeze carrying through the stairwell.
If it hadn't been so quiet in the area, the youth might not have caught it. As it was, he'd been startled down a couple of steps, and barely managed to catch the bars of the rickety hand rail.
Once he managed to regain his balance he stepped around the rail, peering at the bundle.
"Hey, idiot. I don't care if you got locked out or whatever but staying under the railing during a rainstorm is a bit far on the scale of 'passive aggressive' for anyone."
Blue eyes looked up at Karkat in surprise, pale white hands moving to nervously pull the dark blue hoodie down even further. "O-oh." He stuttered - yes, it was definitely a boy - and did a double-take down the other end of the corridor, as if expecting someone else to come walking out. "Um, sorry. I can leave if I'm bothering you or something."
Those eyes were stunning, and something about them made a catch in his chest. He ground the emotion, glaring at the other boy.
"No, you're not bothering me. How could you be bothering me? Loitering in my building is a perfectly normal and acceptable activity for any given human being on a rainy day in the middle of the Fall. Congratulations my friend, you're a trend setter. You're drawing perfectly reasonable people out of the nice, toasty, mold infested apartments to languish out here in the ice-cold hell that is this rainstorm." He gestured to the area behind him.
Karkat was met with incredulous blinking, closely followed by unabashed giggling. The hood that the boy had once tried to pull over his face fell to his back as he leaned forward to clamp a hand over his mouth. His hair was black much like Karkat's, but it was rather messy and looked... well, perhaps it didn't look disgusting by any means, but it wasn't the cleanest. And it stuck out at odd angles like he had the worst bed-head in more than one place.
"Oh my gosh, do you do that every time you talk to someone?" He grinned, pushing the thin-framed glasses back up his nose, since they had fallen slightly during his brief fit of laughter. "You have like, the worst case of word-vomit I think I've ever seen!"
He narrowed his eyes critically, eyeing the youth with a barely contained clucking tongue.
"Fuck you. Here I am, about to offer to do you a goddamned favor, and you're sitting there laughing at me." Guilt wasn't about to let him leave the kid out there looking like that. That had been him once, and someone had given him a hand up. Hadn't he been told to 'pay it forward', like the kid in the movie of that very same name?
"No, no, I'm not laughing at you!" The boy paused after raising his hands up defensively, coming to the realization that yeah, he kind of did. Oops. "I just wasn't expecting that sort of reaction I guess?"
Just as his lips upturned and he breathed out another chuckle, his expression fell halfway to a deadpan, and he looked back up at Karkat. "Wait, you were gonna do me a favor? What for?"
"You're roughly my age, sitting under the stairs of my apartment in the middle of a rainstorm, looking like a pile of shit. If I didn't do it no one else would. Get off your ass." Karkat forced a scowl, tapping a foot on the ground to emphasize impatience. "Try not to take your time at it, too. I don't want to get sick out here."
The boy did a weird dance with his hands, fingers clenching and unclenching a few times, before he finally decided he had the willpower to stand. A little too quick getting to his feet, he smacked his forehead on the underside of a wooden step, eliciting a muffled sound of pain. He rubbed at his head and stepped towards Karkat, giving him an expectant look. The teenager looked a bit more ragged upon closer inspection. His jeans had quite a few tears in them, all of them in the wrong places to pass as an expensive designer brand. His blue hoodie had a hole in the front pocket, and it looked like it hadn't been washed in quite some time. Not to mention his tennis shoes looked a bit too big for his feet (aside from looking far too 'lived in').
"It's really not that cold out." The boy offered with a small smile, though his cheeks were a little rosy from the chill in the air. "I've been in worse."
"It's pretty damned cold." He grunted, reaching out to grab for the boy's wrist. "Let's get you upstairs, dried off, and fed... And you'd damned well better help with the dishes or some shit. You're not going to just stay for free."
Stay? No, Karkat that's a bad idea. Stop. The thought was pushed to the back of hsi head. He might regret this later, but he'd regret not doing this more than anything else.
"S-stay?!" The grubby teen stuttered, but he let Karkat drag him up the stairs. He watched his feet once they got to the second floor, lips barely parted in a sophisticated slackjaw of a dumbstruck kid. What just happened here, really? Did he just exchange barely two minutes of conversation with a guy then get invited into his home? The boy gulped, unsure of himself. Did he do something without realizing it?
"Uh. Wow." The teenager finally grew a backbone and stopped them both as Karkat opened the door to his apartment. "That's... this is really generous of you, but are you sure you want to invite a complete stranger into your home? What if I was a serial killer or something? Or is this a hobby of yours? Wait, what if you're a serial killer?!"
He sighed heavily, studying the boy before he spoke finally.
"If I was a serial killer I wouldn't be picking some random chump who chose to roost under my house steps." he tilted his head to the side and continued on. "If you were a serial killer you might have managed to get clothes that don't look like they've been worn for three weeks straight, and you probably wouldn't be roosting under my house steps. That said: If you don't get in from the rain the nagging voice in the back of my head that I'm pretty sure belongs to my grand mother is going to lecture me until I come back out and drag you in by your nasty looking hair. What do you do all day? Roll in dirt?"
Another slow blink. "Uh..." Came the rather intelligent reply. Well, that was eloquent. "Not all the time? I mean sometimes you can't help it. Dirt's all over the place! Oh gosh wait, I'm going to track this into your home, aren't I?" He shuffled his feet, kicking the heel of his toe on the ground in attempt to free some of the semi-dried clumps that clung to the heel of his shoe. It wasn't his fault it got muddy when it rained!
"It's a shitty apartment. Get the worst of it off and we'll what you've got in the wash or some shit." Keys jangled in his hands as he worked on the door, glancing at his new house-guest around his hood. "Just answer me this: What the fuck is your name?"
"Oh! My name's John." The newcomer offered a friendly smile, hands fidgeting a little with the sleeves of his hoodie. He continued to scrape the mud from his shoes, but he soon opted to ditch them and leave them outside entirely, slipping out of them and leaving his slightly damp socks there with him. "What's your name?"
"Karkat. Vantas." He held the door open, his own shoes abandoned outside. "Get in here. You're not saving those tonight."
Wow, this guy was kind of pushy! Maybe he should be concerned that this Karkat guy was a serial killer or something. "Karkat?" He echoed the name and stepped inside the apartment, which wasn't actually all that warmer inside, but it was miles better than a wet fifty degrees. "Haha, that's a funny name! I bet you got teased a lot as a kid!"
Karkat glared at John, giving him his best 'I'm pissed off, but you're surviving by my own supreme benevolence' look, and started in on him. "You have an obnoxiously common name that proves to me that either your parents didn't give a shit and pulled it out of their ass, or cared enough to pick one that was common enough for you to fly under the proverbial radar. Are we playing the 'obvious game', John?"
"Hey! My mom cares about me a lot!" John insisted, lips turning to an indignant pout. "At least she didn't give me a name that makes people think beep beep meow. Hehe, that's actually really funny!"
Quick, tense hands stripped off a soaked windbreaker that was dropped by the door, and the host launched in to speech again.
"My mother was out of it when she decided to put my name to paper. I think they let her get high immediately following squeezing out my pathetic form, and I sincerely doubt she actually had a plan when she put the two words together. 'Let's take Kar from your name, and Kat from mine! hee hee hoo hoo best idea ever! Clearly I'm legitimately worthy of being given this child for the next sixteen to eighteen years of it's life!'" he put on a mock feminine voice, batting his eyelashes before dropping back into his natural tenor. "Take off that hoodie. I need to do laundry anyway, I guess I'll do yours, too."
John rolled his eyes and stripped the blue hoodie without a second word, though he revealed an even dirtier white t-shirt (could that even be considered white?) that had a few suspicious stains on it. Suspicious stains that didn't look just like dirt or sweat or normal things people get coated in on a daily basis. There was a disgusting green stain right smack in the middle of his chest - oh wait, that stain had a face. Whatever t-shirt he was wearing had what looked like a chipper green turd on the front of it.
"... Sixteen?" The boy offered the blue hoodie to his new host, brows furrowing together in a displeased knit. "So you live with your parents? Is it really okay that I stay here?"
"I live on my own. I relieved my parents of myself. That's all that needs to be sa--what the fuck is...You just dwell in your filth?" he shouted, storming past the boy toward his room. "Stay there. Don't touch anything, don't shuffle your feet. Don't move." His home was neat and clean. It wasn't much, but it was his, and he'd be damned if he was going to let dirt just live there.
John opened his mouth to protest, but the words died in his throat as he looked down, and pulled his shirt a bit to take a look at it. Karkat was right, this thing was filthy. Oh god, was that blood from last week? Hopefully he could write that off as mud. Oh, gross.
The bespectacled teen looked up and noticed Karkat was gone. At first he thought that reaction was a little uncalled for, it wasn't like he had mold growing on him or something; but then he finally took in the scene before him. A short little hall for an entryway, and he could see part of what he suspected to be the living room-kitchen area, and it was all freaking spotless. Parts of the wall next to him had some worn paint, and the molding near the ceiling looked like it was trying to divorce the wall, but everything was unexpectedly clean for a sixteen year old runaway.
Whoa. Karkat was a runaway. They were in a similar spot then, huh? John knew first hand that living on your own at such a young age was no easy feat - but this guy, Karkat, was able to find himself a home. Did he go to work to pay for it? That was more than John was ever able to accomplish.
"So I figure you're probably around the same measures as me so you might fit this shit, but god help you if you ruin it." Karkat called as he came back from his room. In his arms were a pair of carefully folded jeans, a dark gray sweater and a pair of towels. "You'll go in to the bathroom. You'll strip. You'll shower — If I have to walk you through that I swear I will end you--You'll dry yourself off and get in to this stuff. When you're done with that, you'll toss that crap you're currently trying to pass off as 'clothes' in the tub, fill it with water, and we'll toss soap in on top of that. Maybe we save it, maybe we burn it."
John was cool with everything up until the burning part. "What? Oh hell no! This is my favorite shirt!" He clenched at the hem as if he was expecting Karkat to try and rip it straight off his person. "And also kind of my only shirt! You can't even find these anymore dude, it's vintage!"
"'Vintage' doesn't mean 'stained to the point of no longer being respected as a piece of clothing', John. It means 'this came from a good era. It is untouched and unchanged, and of high quality'. Let's count the things that that thing isn't... It'd actually be easier to count what it 'is', now that I think about it." he sneered, starting in by holding out a finger for each subject. "It's old. Check. It's got a design on it that ugh I don't know someone might appreciate. Check. It's growing its own ecosystem. Big ass check. Oh. Look at that. That's a big one. That took aaaaaaall my fingers to count. Wow."
"But it's Ghostbusters!" John whined, face contorted into a horrified expression of a child that just watched someone take their dog behind a shed, not a teenager about to hand over a shirt stained beyond repair. "We can't toss the shirt, okay? I've had this since I came here!"
Oh sure, the kid was fine waltzing into a stranger's home without much of a second thought, but godforbid you try and take his shirt away.
Karkat growled, rubbing a hand over his face, trying to fight down his frustration.
"Alright, I won't throw it away, but if we can't save it, you don't get to wear it in my house. Or outside my house. Or in my presence. Got it?" Anything to get this kid to get cleaned up.
John huffed lightly in reply, obviously not keen on the idea, but he resigned. "Fine." He grumbled, finally eying the clothes Karkat was kind enough to bring him, and he extended a hesitant hand for them. "... Are you sure you don't mind me wearing your stuff?" It looked so clean. Almost too clean. It wasn't like he was a particularly unhygienic person, but he didn't exactly get new clothes often. And when he did, they were tattered and worn. These looked so crisp and new, it was kind of intimidating in a really stupid way.
"I'm fine. You can keep that set, and if you wind up sticking around, we'll get you new shit. Sound good?" he set the clothes down on the couch, tapping a foot on the ground.
Sticking around? Getting new stuff? John stood there, speechless. There was no way Karkat was really expecting him to stay for an extended length of time, right? "Wuh --" John eloquently tied his own tongue in an attempt to reply. "You... you'd let me stay here? But, I mean, you're only a year older than me. And you only just met me!"
Generous didn't even begin to describe it. Even if he ended up getting kicked out after a few days, the mere fact that someone would even consider taking him in no questions asked was unfathomable. He'd met some nice people in the past, but this was some other uncharted level of kindness he had no idea the people here were capable of. In truth, that sort of offer made him more suspicious than ever; but even with his best efforts, he couldn't detect any sort of ill will behind Karkat's intentions. And he knew a thing or two about such negativity.
He bit his lip. He kind of almost felt like tearing up, but that was far too cliche. Did he just step into some sort of girly drama flick? "That's..." He swallowed, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks. "I think... you're the kindest person I've ever met."
"Carry your own weight, don't be a little shit and we'll see how it goes. And don't give me that. I'm just doing what was done for me." Karkat's cheeks and ears colored, and he threw his arms across his chest, folding them tight. "Someone has to."
John smiled in budding adoration. For a moment he pondered just where he'd be now if it hadn't been for the bone-chilling rain that pushed him into the stairwell. For the first time in a long time, the homeless teenager felt like he found a friend. Though Karkat certainly had a mouth on him (not to mention a pretty impressive vocabulary and a colorful imagination when it came to insults), but he was a good guy, wasn’t he? John found himself hoping that even if he was to get kicked out of this too-good-to-be-true situation, he could still be friends with this kid. It was a wonderful feeling. He loved it."Hehe, gosh." He didn't really know what else to say. Which was probably a good thing, since Karkat looked like the type who wasn't comfortable being showered in compliments, no matter how much John wanted to gush about how in a short ten minutes, Karkat's shown him more kindness than he's received from anyone else in an entire year. He didn't want to get sappy, anyway. "I guess I'll go shower then. Don't want to muck up your place, it's so freakishly clean!"
"It's not FREAKISH. It's the perfect amount of clean for someone living on their own." Karkat fought back a growl and pointed toward the bathroom. "Get. Clean. Now."
The boy ginned, making his way down the hall, noticing the bathroom door was already cracked open. He made his way down towards the door, opening it - but he paused before stepping in, a laugh barely audible under his breath. "I like the matching towels and bath mat!" He called before closing the door behind him. Now, John had been in bathrooms before. He may be homeless, but he's seen his share of gas station restrooms and... as much as he wouldn't like to admit it, he's used showers in motels. None of them paled in comparison to the glorious scene of cleanliness before him. The shower stall was devoid of water stains and other questionable discoloration, the sink wasn't clogged, he could actually see in the mirror, and holy shit his soap dispenser has adorable little ducks on them. Perhaps John was blowing this all way out of proportion, but he'd never been able to have this sort of luxury. He probably spent a little too long messing with the temperature controls in the shower, but after stripping his clothes and reveling in the feel of clean water, he started feeling like a kid in a toy story. Not wanting to run up the water bill (does Karkat have one of those? Do apartments work like that?), he stopped fooling around and washed himself, scrubbing every inch of his body down. He wasn't sure what "conditioner" was, or why it supposedly smelled like spring rain and lavender, but he loved the smell so he attempted to lather some of that around. Once he was done, he reluctantly turned the water off, though the bathroom stayed pleasantly warm. He pulled a towel around his waist and grabbed his dirty clothes in a bunch before opening the door. He began to wander down the hall and - oh shoot, something was hanging out. Readjust the towel, hide the offending appendage. Okay, he couldn't make that mistake twice. Gotta keep an eye on that. "Karkat?" He called expectantly, peering into the living room.
The smell of chicken and vegetable something was wafting from the kitchen. Pops and splashes of something hitting a cooking surface were met with loud, violent curses as.
"The fuck do you want, John? Can't figure out how to put pants on on your own? I'm not coming in there to show you how to do something simians can do on their own." He leaned out the door, shaking a spoon in the direction of the bathroom. "Get your ass dressed and over here if you expect to get anything to eat!"
Oh. Oh right, Karkat picked out clothes for him. "Where do I put my old clothes? Do you have a bio-waste can to comically toss them in?" He didn't really wait for a response and just dumped them unceremoniously on the ground beside the couch before grabbing the clean clothes. Well this was a little awkward. Was it weird for someone to wear another person's underwear? John stared at the pair of gray boxers at the top of the pile, but decided to dismiss the idea and just shook his head.
"Bathtub, unless you didn't want to try to save it." Karkat shouted back, rattling things around in the kitchen. "Run the water, warm, I'll bring in some Oxyclean and we can see how it does after an hour's soak."
From the sound of it, the boy had been there before: Saving clothes from the brink of death in order to continue using them, perhaps to save money.
"Oxywhat? Oh nevermind." John shrugged and took both piles of clothes back to the bathroom, and began running the water into the bath even though it took him a minute to figure out how to plug the drain. While he waited for the tub to fill up with enough water, he pulled on the clean clothes, unable to stop himself from being amazed at how nice they smelled. It smelled a little bit like the conditioner, but not exactly. Once he was decent, he turned the water off and walked barefoot back into the living room, and straight up to the counter dividing the two rooms. He took in the aroma of whatever it was Karkat had heating up. "Whoa, that smells awesome! I didn't take you for a guy who knows how to cook."
"It's left overs from my boss's wife. She decided I was too skinny and sent me home with tubs of stew. Grab a stool. Food stays at the counter, no where else. I don't want to clean up any messes tonight." The elder boy scrutinized his blue eyed house-guest.
"Oh! Um... I'm not really hungry." John nervously tapped his fingers on the counter a few times, and averted his eyes, suddenly very interested in the cabinetry. "I ate not all that long ago."
"You were hiding under my stairs not too long ago. I'm seriously doubting the validity of that statement."
That obviously didn't work. Time for Plan B. Wait, what was Plan B? Did he have some sort of disease where he couldn't process food? Oh yeah that sounded real believable. "I really actually don't have much of an appetite." He gave Karkat a bit of an embarrassed glance, scratching at his cheek. "I'll have a bit I guess, but you should really just save it for yourself. You'd be kind of amazed at how little I really need to eat. Besides, you're letting me stay here, and that's more than I ever could have asked for."
An exasperated sigh passed Karkat's lips as he ladled some stew in to a bowl and broke off a piece of baguette, shoving them toward John.
"How about you eat, or you don't. If you don't finish it, you cover it and put it back in the fridge and eat it for breakfast tomorrow?"
John blinked down at the bowl in front of him, steam lifting gracefully off the surface. When was the last time he had something hot to eat? He swallowed. It really tugged at his conscience to take something from someone who was already offering him so much; especially when he didn't actually need to eat. Not in this sense. But he couldn't help it - with the smell so strong and tantalizing, John already felt his mouth start to water. Okay, maybe a little bit wouldn't hurt. It's not like having a bowl of stew would eat Karkat out of house and home.
He took a sip. "Oh my gosh, this is awesome!" He exclaimed, happily taking another spoonful, this time trying a small chunk of chicken and carrot together. Oh wow, this was really good. What were those little circular bits? And the green lumps? Oh well, he wasn't going to get picky now. John grabbed for the bread, noticing the odd color. It was darker than the bread he'd been used to seeing. "... What kind of bread is this?"
"It's rye. Now eat it." the other boy puffed a cheek, spooning some into a bowl of his own before climbing onto a stool and beginning to eat over the counter. "I'll pass on the praise to the boss man and his wife."
Rye, huh? John took a bite of the bread, finishing the mouthful before smiling. "It's super crunchy. I like it!" He proceeded to dip some into the soup and tried that, too.
Karkat let out a little snort, and shrugged, continuing with his meal.
This might not be so bad. He'd been lonely for a long time, after all, hadn't he?
Later that night, John took up residency on the couch in the living room. It was a little worn, but it was incredibly comfortable - not that the teenage runaway had high standards when it came to sleeping quarters. Karkat mentioned that it was given to him by a co-worker, since they were planning on throwing it out in the garbage anyway. It was a shame, because the pattern on the fabric looked a little dated, and it looked like a cat might have gotten a hold of one corner and used it as a scratching post for an afternoon, but other than that it was a perfectly good couch. Some people could be so wasteful! John would have killed to have this couch to sleep on this entire time. Okay, maybe not kill, but you know.
Like a lot of things that happened that day, it had been a long time since John was able to sleep so soundly. It was all so surreal; in a matter of minutes, he went from an aimless kid with no home and no idea where he was going to go next, to a kid without dirt in his hair and an actual home to stay in. The following morning was a little awkward, since it was obvious both teenagers weren't used to sharing their space with someone else, but it was kind of a refreshing awkwardness.
They started off with small talk over breakfast (which consisted of a single strawberry for John, after saying he really didn't like eating in the mornings), and they laid down a few ground rules: No loud noises if Karkat had to get up early for work, no bringing home strange women, or men for that matter. John couldn't help but giggle nervously, and thankfully Karkat didn't catch the hesitant undertone. No throwing dirty clothes on the floor, no leaving dishes in the sink without rinsing them. Basic stuff.
Karkat had also insisted that John needed to stop acting like a guest and more like a roommate; and honestly, as the next day passed, that didn't seem so hard to do. Though they squabbled often, they both quickly found that they enjoyed each other's company. Even if their tastes in movies seemed to be from entirely different planets. They took a walk later that day around the block to a small convenience store for a quart of milk and a carton of eggs.
Karkat didn't look too sure if he thought John was kidding or was really just that pitiful when John stated he'd never tried eggs before. They ended up having breakfast for dinner that night, and found a few shows on TV to watch.
John just couldn't believe that he spent an entire day just relaxing, not worrying about what city to go to or where to hunker down for the night, worrying about how cold it would be or if it would rain again. It was around that second episode of CSI that John just up and surprised Karkat with a hug, giving him a heartfelt thanks. He promised he'd find some way to be of use to earn his keep, just before he was shrugged off and told not to hug without warning.
They could sense they both felt good though, the relief of being helped and the joy of helping someone was a sentiment they both shared.
The second day, Karkat had to go to work. John insisted they leave the dishes for him to do, because it wasn't like he had anything else to do while Karkat went to the bakery. He busied himself with cleaning up around the house while Karkat was out, though there wasn't a whole lot of work to be done. The floors look recently swept (though he still swept parts of it just to be sure), and there wasn't a whole lot of dust lining the cabinets and counter-tops. It didn't take long for John to feel sort of useless. Perhaps since he now has a stable home, he could go and try and find a job somewhere. How did someone even begin to do that? He'd seen it in movies before but he wasn't too sure on the details.
Karkat got home later that day, and they talked some more over dinner - though once again, John hardly ate anything. When he did, he nibbled and savored the taste rather than eat considerable amounts. They talked briefly about John looking for a job, but Karkat quickly dismissed it and told him he could relax for a while before he had to worry about that. John had no choice but to comply, since it wasn't like he even knew how to figure out what the first step would be. John went to sleep fairly early. And the next morning, he looked a bit pale. Karkat asked if he was feeling fine, and John shrugged it off as just normal fatigue from traveling. The following night though, when Karkat got home, John looked even worse. He didn't seem downright ill though, so Karkat let one more day pass as he went to work again.
And it was later that night, it got worse. While they were watching some auction reality show, John turned over onto his stomach , curling up halfway into a ball with a tiny sound passing his lips.
The sound grabbed at Karkat's attention, and he turned to peer at John. Concern tugged at the corners of his face and he reached over to touch his shoulder.
"Are you alright? You're making sounds like someone kicked you or something..."
The boy visibly flinched at Karkat's touch, and he turned around hesitantly, back against the armrest of the couch. His complexion was pale - quite a bit more than it was just a few hours ago. John took in a quiet, sharp breath once before speaking up."Ah, um. I'm fine! I'm just not feeling so hot I guess." He swallowed nervously, and found that he was averting his eyes from Karkat pretty regularly. Fuck. Fuck him, fuck the world, fuck the universe and just. Fuck. He knew he should have left last night, but he was just too worried about the floors creaking. It wouldn't have been good to wake Karkat up, and having him question just what John was planning on doing, leaving at midnight without so much as an explanation. It would have looked really sketchy coming from a guy he's known for all of three days, even if they had become fast friends. "Just tired. Maybe we should both go to bed early?" Leave, Karkat. Please leave.
"Yeah, you look like shit. That's not to say you don't normally, but this is a stretch." Karkat gave him a worrying look, reaching to touch his forehead. His hand pulled back as he thought better of it, and he stood, tugging the blanket off the back of the couch. "Get some rest, idiot. If you're not better in the morning I'll see about taking you to a free clinic or something... Maybe they won't call child services, if we're lucky, you know? But..."
There was a heavy sigh as he spread the blanket out, then draped it over John.
"I don't know, maybe in some cases it's better for child services to get involved?"
"Wh-what?" John sat up in surprise, shoving a corner of the blanket off of him because he felt warm, way too warm as it were. "I mean, I'm fifteen. I'm kind of past the age for that, aren't I? And I-"Oh god, another wave. They were getting worse now. The raven-haired boy clenched his eyes shut and he leaned into the headrest of the couch, one hand raising to clench at the fabric just below his chin. No - no no no, he had to wait just a little while longer. A few more minutes, and he could just let go, and it would be over before he knew it. But only if Karkat would leave, why was he still here? Heat rushed from his face to his stomach, and his muscles tensed far beyond comfort. His toes curled and he released a small raspy whimper despite his best efforts to keep any sort of noise down.
No, the sensation wasn't going away this time, even if it was a bit better now. He had to leave, and he had to leave now, because it was only going to get worse.
His mind was a flurry of fear and anticipation as he bit down on his tongue to keep himself from tipping over the edge. There was no way he was going to blow this after only three days. He liked Karkat, he really liked him. He wanted to stay here, maybe for a long time! Even if it wasn't going to be forever, he wanted to stay and get to know Karkat even more, and maybe make more friends in the community, get a job and actually feel like a normal human for once in his life. A shaky leg swung over a cushion, and set foot to the carpet. Though he swayed unsteadily, he quickly stood up and looked towards the front door. "I - I have to go."
The movement might have been quick, but it was unsteady. It allowed enough time for Karkat to scramble over and catch him by the wrist.
"Are you completely demented? We're in the middle of storm season. You came here soaking wet, worse for wear. God only knows what you picked up out there. Leave now and you'll make yourself worse. No. Lay the fuck back down and close your eyes." There was a hint of panic in the boy's voice. Had he lost someone to illness?
John's breath was getting noticeably heavier. There was a raspy undertone every once and a while that escalated almost to a half-gurgling sound, and it only amplified when Karkat grabbed his wrist. "I'm not!" He raised his voice, turning to glare weakly at the older teen as he tried to yank his wrist free, but to no avail. "I just... Karkat please, let me go. Please, I don't want to - not to you, please. I can't-!" He reached up, grabbing at Karkat's fingers with his free hand, trying to pry his grip off. He could just force him to let go, it would be so easy - but he couldn't do it with enough subtlety for Karkat not to notice. The slightly shorter boy pulled back another few feet in a burst of energy, until his back hit the wall. Fuck, where was the door again?
Karkat growled, stumbling forward after the boy.
"Hold still, for fucks' sake! You'll get worse if you go outside right now!"
"I won't! Let me go, just for a few minutes, just -" John cut himself short with a cringe, and he hunched over himself, his limbs beginning to burn. Anxiety swelled up like a whirlpool in his chest, sinking his heart and feeding knots into his stomach. He couldn't let go here, not with Karkat so close! He couldn't do something so horrible to someone who had been so kind, so genuinely selfless...But his willpower was beginning to fade. His was hungry, so god damn hungry. He was shaky and weak, he felt light-headed and sick. If he didn't get some sort of nourishment soon, he wasn't sure how much longer he'd last. His concentration began to slip. The hand he had grasped against Karkat's gripped harder, and something sharp dug faintly into Karkat's tan skin, just below his knuckles. John felt his bangs shift forwards just a little bit, as they brushed against his glasses. A glint of ivory appeared just above his ears, snaking towards the back of his head in a graceful wave.
Karkat's eyes widened, blinked. He shook his head to see if that would clear the image away but it wasn't helping.
"J-John. What the hell is going on??" he gripped tighter, determined not to let go. He might be loosing his mind to some kind of fever.
Panic rose in John's throat like bile. His legs gave out, body sliding down to the floor in a defeated thump, limbs shaking as he threw his only free hand over the side of his head, where he could feel his now visible horns. "N-NO!" He practically screamed, though his voice cracked pitifully in the middle. Tears began to sting his eyes even though he was determined to keep them clenched tightly shut, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He didn't want to lose this! He didn't want to lose Karkat!A now clawed hand shook in Karkat's grasp. "Don't look at me!" John cried, fingers digging into his own hair, close to ripping it out. "Let me go, please!!"
The boy looked at the hand he was holding, examining the claws as he sank down next to John. He carefully reached out to touch his head, brushing his fingers through the other kid's hair.
"Shhh." He whispered. Was he scared? Yeah. But he was also a sucker for tears and angst (anyone could look at his movie collection and infer that). His hand was shivering a little as he smoothed John's hair, skirting his horns. "It's alright. It's alright. Relax."
The gentle touch was unexpected. It actually shot right through his chest more than a slap to the face or outright screaming ever would have, and it startled him. Blue eyes blurred with tears opened back up, and John stared apprehensively at Karkat, expression contorted into one of regret and self-loathing. A tear fell down his cheek, and in the dim light of Karkat's tiny apartment, the shaking boy's eyes began to change erratically. His sclera looked as though someone poured ink over them, as a cloud of black covered them in a breath's time. His pupils dilated slightly and thinned into slits like a feline, before beginning to glow a bright aqua. He was beginning to lose all grasp on his concealing spell. And by the look on Karkat's face, he noticed. How could anyone not notice? "I'm sorry," John whimpered, voice half choking as he spoke. "I - I didn't mean to deceive to you! I swear, I w-wasn't going to feast on you, I promise! I promise, Karkat!"
The 'feast' bit took a few moments to process. The phrase rumbled through his head as he studied the boy curled on his floor. The boy who suddenly looked so very much different than the one he'd brought home. 'You idiot. What did you get yourself into?'
"Back the fuck up, okay? I don't even know what the hell you are so you're apologizing for assumptions I haven't even fucking made yet. Putting words in my mouth and I don't appreciate that. Yeah. You don't look like ya did at breakfast. Ok. Gimmy a few minutes. I might figure out how to be properly fucking stunned that someone in my life isn't exactly what they said they were – Oh. Wait. That's the entire spectrum of the life that belongs to Karkat 'your mother was a drunk and your father walked out on you' Vantas. You just happen to look different. Not like the kids in school who're all 'come sit at our table eat your lunch with us when you're out we're going to talk about how stained your pants are and how messy your hair is'. I guess you haven't been trying to play me for a fool this whole time because you seem like you're pretty genuinely fucked up over this, so I can forgive you for not saying 'oh, Karkat. I've got weird eyes and horns. Thought you should know.' Seriously, John. You're an idiot." He took a large breath before continuing. "And at any rate really any problems stemming from this are really my own making since I invited you in on a whim. I'm the kind of douchebag they make sixty minute specials about. 'Emancipated minor brings in stranger from the streets. More at ten.'"
Karkat's overzealous rant left John even more stunned than before, staring wide eyed at the taller teenager - not a great combination considering how freakish his eyes were at the moment. Two thin streaks of tears now stained his cheeks, but while his eyes continued to look glassy, he didn't look like he was about to bawl anymore. His previously shaking limbs were no longer quivering like dry leaves. "Y... Your fault?!" John yelled, giving Karkat the most incredulous stare. His mouth hung halfway open for a moment before he felt like he could find the words to continue. He could hardly fathom the fact that Karkat just went on a long-winded rant, defending him even though the older teen had absolutely no reason to. It would have been so much easier to deal with what the fuck are you, get out, but no, Karkat didn't give him something that simple.
"You wouldn't have to be dealing with this if I had just left last night! Oh god - Karkat, please let me go now. I promise I'm not running away or anything, just let me go, I can't stay here any longer!"
"You're not running, but you can't stay, either." There was a note of hurt in his voice that he was trying to layer over with spite. One by one the fingers let go of the wrist they were still hanging on to. He closed his eyes and pulled his hand back toward himself. "A contradiction. Guess you won't come back if you leave, either, huh? Go ahead and go then. Whatever. Not like I went out of my way or anything. This is what happens when you care about people and listen to that nagging little voice in the back of your head that tells you 'Hey, it's a good idea to do this.'"
He was trying to sound angry, but his voice and face weren't telling the same story.
"I... If you leave are you coming back?" His voice cracked as he spoke, and he tried to make the floor look like the most interesting thing he'd seen all year. He wasn't crying. Not Karkat. He hadn't gotten used to having someone nearby again so fast. Not him. Nope.
"Karkat..." John whispered, watching as Karkat drew his gaze south, down towards the floor between them. His voice was wavering too, wasn't it? Did he really still care about the runaway in front of him, even after seeing how he was a monster?
"Karkat...." It almost sounded like an echo, as John reached for the older teen - but his flinched and paused before his fingers touched Karkat's sleeved arm, claws barely inches away even though John had no problem hanging all over his new roommate before. "I won't... I won't disappear. I'll come back, okay? If you'll let me, I..." Fuck, the last of his spell had worn off by now. His tail awkwardly rested just above the hem of his jeans, which were already stretched uncomfortably to accommodate the change in his legs, and his shirt grew tighter around his chest thanks to the new appendages on his back. He didn't have much time, but the release of the concealing spell gave him a little more energy to hold out. "I won't abandon you, Karkat. If you.... if you won't abandon me."
Karkat fingers tugged at the pile as he glanced to his friend.
"...Why didn't you tell me?"
John took in a shallow, sharp breath, heart thudding heavy in his chest. He stared at Karkat with a conflicting gaze, torn between trying to fabricate something to make it easier for the both of them to deal with, and... just telling him the truth.
The thought of lying to Karkat sat like curdled milk in his stomach. The older teen had absolutely no problem explaining to John the tribulations of his past, and opened up to him readily like they were old friends. If John couldn't extend the same amount of trust, could he really call himself Karkat's friend?
In any case, perhaps the worst was already out in the open. Karkat probably already had a good idea that his new roommate wasn't human. It couldn't get much worse than that - it was worse, but not by much in comparison. If Karkat was accepting of this fact already, then perhaps...Karkat was a good person. And even though John wasn't entirely sure of himself at this point, he trusted him.
"... I thought it would scare you." He admitted with a lump in his throat. His nervously gaze averted a few times, but he did his best to keep his eyes on the teen in front of him. "I m-mean, who wouldn't freak the fuck out? I'm... I'm not exactly human."
"You know what scares me?" Karkat snapped, turning his attention to his friend. "Thinking the people I actually give a shit about are going to get hurt or die or something and pardon me for not being as scared of you as you thought I'd be but really compared to some of the things you see pass by you on the streets or on the news you're really not as terrifying as you're trying to make yourself out to be. You're a kid with horns and weird eyes who was perched out in the cold and needed a hand and I'm pretty sure that I'd still have helped you even if you showed up looking like... this." he gestured, brows furrowed with frustration.
John isn't sure why he keeps getting surprised by Karkat's responses. It was amazing enough to know he'd offer his home to someone he never met before - give him clothes, food, a place to sleep, and not once did expect anything of value in return. John found himself grinning wearily up at the older teenager, a small chuckle passing his lips.
"You're more of a weirdo than I thought." He teased, but the tears welling up in his eyes once more proved he was just trying to cover up a compliment that tugged at his heartstrings more than he'd like to admit. Finally John initiated contact; he placed one hand on Karkat's arm, and he leaned forward, head tentatively resting against the other's shoulder. "Thank you. Thank you so much, Karkat..." He whispered, voice wavering slightly with choked up sincerity.
"Yeah yeah, I'm a regular fucked up piece of work." Karkat twisted, wrapping his arms around the other boy. "Don't be dumb, John."
The boy relaxed, exhaling in relief once Karkat wrapped his arms around him in acceptance. This really had to be a dream. He found a home, a friend, the possibility of a stable, normal human life... and on top of that, someone who didn't seem bothered with the fact that he wasn't human. A part of him was terrified that at any moment, he'd wake up and he'd still be under the stairs, and Karkat would have just been a passing tenant whose face somehow made its way into his dreams. But the serenity didn't last long. Even though John was able to conserve some energy by dropping his form-altering spell, he was still starving. Another wave of need overcame him, and his muscles began to tense again. He hated to do this, he really did because this embrace was so meaningful, so warm and protective and he wanted it to last for just a little while longer, but the close proximity of another person's body was getting to be too much. He pushed Karkat back, breath becoming heavy again.
"I-I'm sorry," John blurted out, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. "I just, I still need to go. I promise I'll be back, but I need to leave for a little while."
"Knock before you come back in."
"O-okay." Awkwardly, John got back to his feet - which were now anything but normal human feet, with two prominent claws instead of toes. A speared tail swung behind him, before nervously sticking close to one of his legs as he took a few steps back. He gave Karkat a melancholy smile, before turning around and swiftly making his way out the door without another word.
He didn't look up as the other boy walked out, choosing to sit still for as long as he could.
Was this what his life had become? Had he become so desperate he was willing to let in any kind of weirdness so long as it didn't wind up leaving him in the end?
He scrubbed a hand over his face and through his hair, shoving himself to his feet. A few short steps brought him to the couch, where he flopped down, throwing his head back over the arm.
"Desperate, pathetic fuck. Why not just crawl in to his lap next and beg him to stay forever?" His hand fell back over the arm, smacking against the casing of an old laptop he'd been given for his birthday that year. A thought occurred to him, and he grabbed at it, swinging it around to his lap. The lid flipped up, the machine turned on, and Karkat had the internet booted as quickly as his little monster could run. "...Now what exactly am I looking for?"
Every click brought Karkat closer to a panic attack. Not knowing what he'd brought in was probably the worst idea he'd ever had in his life.
He wasn't getting any closer to finding anything out, just poking at the mouse over Google, Bing, Yahoo and Wikipedia (Ok, no, he'd used tumblr, too. Sometimes it had good results!) but all he'd come up with so far was useless. Unsettling but useless. Mythology was slung hither and yon with the word 'demon' sprinkled in as crunchy toppings designed to tantalize the thoughts of any hapless wandering reader.
Quick fingers toggled between browser windows. 'Incubus, Daemon, Shedu, Folk Devil, Imp' Nothing had a real picture or verbal description.
Daemon fit best, he thought. A blanket term from ancient Greece meaning something along the lines of 'to divide' with no real negative connotation. Everything else seemed to be full of big terrifying words that made him wish he'd paid attention in school.
"You could be wrong. You could be inviting a monster into your house and letting him out to...to eat people or something. Karkat you're an idiot." a jerk of his legs and the lid slapped shut and he flopped the machine to the ground, curling up on his couch. "I'll just... I'll just ask for all the answers and."
He worked his fingers in to his hair and tugged.
"And I won't give in to the teary eyes. Jesus FUCK those teary eyes." He twisted back up to a seated position, fixing his eyes on the door.
Though as soon as he'd made the determination to demand answers, he started to drift off.
A soft whisper brushed past Karkat's ear, so soft it could have been written off as the wind, or the hum of the water softener one floor down. But it whispered again, this time just audible enough to form into words."Karkat?" A pause. "Karkat, are you gonna sleep out here?" A soft touch to the sleeping boy's arm, almost too timid to be felt.
An unseemly yelp turned strangled cry sprang out of Karkat's throat. One arm slung out to the side, smacking at the other boy.
"DON'T FUCKING--" His eyes flew open, searching the room. The second his arm drove into something solid, John's voice cried out in pain.
"OWW!" The boy whined, taking a step back away from the couch and he rubbed his jaw, eyes fixated on Karkat. He didn't even care that the blow to his face might end up bruising later - no, the worried expression he wore was evident of that. A now very human John stood an arms length away from the older teen, still and silent as if moving would just make things worse. Confusion and hurt clouded his mind, and he wondered for a moment if he really had scared Karkat too much earlier, and that his words of encouragement before he left were a farce. Not like that would be surprising, would it? That would be, by far, a much more normal reaction after all. "K-Karkat?" His voice came out a little more pitiful than he expected.
Karkat panted as he started to settle, fingers digging in to the couch, eyes widening then slowly settling again as he searched the room for the disturbance that had woke him. When his eyes fell on John he let out a long, slow groan.
"You don't do that to a person! Fucking HELL who taught you it was a good idea to shake a person awake? Do we need to sit down and have a long, serious conversation about sleep-time ettiquette or will this work for you? You don't fucking grab a person and talk to them when they're asleep. AND I thought I told you to knock before you came in? We need to work on your manners."
"Buh-" John looked cornered for a moment, but it didn't take long for him to scrunch his face into an indignant pout. "I did knock! Like, three times! You didn't answer, and the door was unlocked, so I walked in, and... I mean, I would have been fine just going to bed but you're on my bed. And I didn't shake you, I barely touched you!"
"You damned well shook me!" he twisted to look at John, jaw gritted tight. "Don't just...do that. Jesus. Scared the crap out of me."
John almost felt like glaring at Karkat for overreacting, but he let it go. He didn't really want to dwell on the fact that he ended up scaring the poor guy, regardless of whether or not it was because Karkat got a freaky eyeful just a short while ago. Or perhaps not a short while - a quick glance at the microwave in the kitchen showed that John was gone for nearly two hours. "Right, okay. Sorry." He uttered with a bit of guilt, as he stared at the ground. "Um, can I go to bed now, then?"
"We're talking in the morning. Primarily about how to wake people up. Then about the..." He gestured to his head. "Because I need to know." He lurched to his feet, yawning sleepily. "In the morning. When I can form proper sentences to state my ire on the subject."
"A-are you mad?" John stuttered, twining his fingers together nervously. To be honest, he also wanted to ask if it really was okay that he stay. It could have just been the heat of the moment, with their stupid teenage emotions and all, when Karkat seemed more worried about John leaving than him being inhuman. He didn't want to think about getting kicked out tomorrow. It probably wasn't going to happen, right? It was painfully obvious how nervous John was now, biting his lip and staring at Karkat like a hurt puppy.
"For being woken up? Hell fucking yes." he growled, rubbing his face with the palm of a hand, before reaching out too ruffle John's hair. "Get sleep, asshole."
The simple, affectionate contact was just what John needed. He relaxed instantly, giving Karkat a small, content smile. "Hehe, alright. See you in the morning, then."
He tried. Honestly he tried. He made his way to his door, all the way to his bed. He'd even closed his eyes, but the words on every page wound around his head like dogs chasing their tails. They bit and nipped and reminded him just how little he knew about his roommate. The kid he'd invited in to his home had revealed something strange that needed more explanation than he'd gotten.
Drifting off didn't help, because an image of some terror or another would tug him back away from the brink and his eyes would snap open. The little voices in the back of his head taunted and whispered.
'Karkat, you should just ask. You should ask and stop being a paranoid dick about this.' the rational part of his mind said, quite loudly. An eying of the clock said 'four am'. He'd been there for a whole hour? Only an hour?
However long he was there, he knew lying there would do no good. He had to know. He had to. He rolled out of bed, boxers clinging to him as he stumbled back through his bedroom door. In a matter of three long steps he wound up back at the couch, crawling up beside the other.
"Okay, no. I want explanations before I try to sleep or I won't succeed."
John flinched a bit at the sudden weight on the couch beside him, and he sat himself up, the heel of his palm rubbing at one eye. He was only able to doze himself, worry nagging at his mind as he wondered just what sort of reaction Karkat would have the next day. Karkat's confession made his heart rise up to his throat, and for a moment he started feeling a little clammy. He had just gotten used to the idea of forgetting what happened that night and try to get some sleep, but now all this drama was getting slapped back in his face. Although, it was for the best. John knew that he wouldn't have been able to sleep well with anxiety percolating in his stomach the way it had been.
"O-oh." The younger teen nodded reluctantly. He actually began reaching for his glasses before he decided against it. They kind of made things even harder to see at night, sometimes. They could probably do to turn a lamp on, or something. "I was actually having a hard time sleeping myself." He offered quietly.
"So what the hell are you? What makes..." he gestured to his own head with both hands. "What makes those horns? And why didn't I see those before?"
A hand rose up to brush past his bangs, where his horns usually are. "I can cast a spell on my body." He replied with a small, nervous smile. "Makes me look human. Otherwise I wouldn't have made it this long, hehe."
He considered that explanation, leaning forward to peer at the skin, boldly reaching forward to tap at it with a finger.
"You didn't say what you were." His hand cupped the other's chin, turning his face to study it carefully as though trying to pick out differences and map them. "Inquiring minds must know. Who exactly did I bring in to my house, John? I brought you in on a whim, yeah, but that doesn't mean I don't deserve to know what I got myself into. What were you doing outside tonight? What do the horns and legs and tail mean? The ears and eyes? I tried to look it up but I found jack all. I need to know what allowances to make, what boundaries to set, and if I'm doing anything that can hurt you." He let go, sinking back in to the couch.
"I don't want to accidentally do something to fuck this up."
Karkat rubbed at the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply.
"I guess it doesn't. I was exceedingly curious, but it doesn't really matter I guess, so long as you don't do anything illegal while you live here.... You didn't, did you? I can't have the cops coming here going 'Karkat, you're harboring a fugitive. You're not responsible enough to take care of yourself. You have to do a year in a group home now.'"
"No, I-"John cut himself short, eyes widening slightly. And slowly, a guilty, horrified expression overcame his expression, and he raised his hands up near his chest halfway defensively. No, no no no, fuck he couldn't tell Karkat that. Jesus Christ, why didn't he just tell him what he asked for in the first place? This is what he gets from trying to run from questions. Oh god. He caught Karkat's gaze, and he couldn't let go. His lips parted just barely, unable to say anything else as dread filled his senses.
"No, you what?" He frowned, turning on the couch to give John the most intense gaze he could. Maybe if he looked harder he'd find the answers on the boy's face. "What aren't you telling me?"
John gripped the cushion at either side of his hips, his gaze falling as he bit his lip. He let out a nervous exhale, now unable to look at Karkat. His voice was barely audible when he spoke up next, a cracking whisper as though he was too ashamed to even speak.
"I... I couldn't help it."
"Couldn't. Help. What?" Karkat spoke slowly, leaning forward to peer at him. "Talk to me."
John cringed away from Karkat's advance. The younger boy closed his eyes for a moment to steel himself, his palms getting sweaty. If anything was going to kick him out of his new home, this would probably be it.
"I..." He glanced up once at his roommate, but he just couldn't say it while looking at those eyes. He immediately looked back down at the dated fabric of the couch cushions between his legs. "I ... someone." The middle part of the confession was mumbled too much to be heard.
"You someone what?" A fist hit the couch in frustration. "Damnit, John! I can't help if I don't know what happened! You're sitting there mumbling and looking guilty and for all I know you could have killed someone! You're in my home, under my blessing. Don't you fucking owe me this?"
Karkat was right. Oh god, he was so fucking right, it hit him like someone punched him square in the chest. He couldn't help the volume of his voice, arms shaking as he gripped the fabric in his hands probably just a little too tightly.
"I raped someone!"
The human sank in to his seat, eyes going wide. His hand shoved back into his hair. Holy fuck. That was... Definitely not what he was expecting. Not at all. What did you say to something like that?
"Shit... Why? What? Why?"
"I can't help it." Despite his best efforts, tears began to sting at John's eyes the moment he looked up at Karkat, seeing the sort of expression the older teen was wearing. "It's what I fucking do, okay? I'm a disgusting monster that can't go three days without sneaking into someone's home and doing horrible things to them. I'm an incubus, Karkat."
He didn't know if he should be disappointed or what. All Karkat could do was rub his temples and clench his eyes. He took long consideration of the situation. Letting him continue the way he had been was certainly out of the question, but from what he'd read of incubi earlier in the evening they needed that sort of interaction with other beings. There weren't many other ways to get through it. There really weren't many options, were there?
"What... What if..."
'What if you leave'? John couldn't help but worry about where Karkat was going with this.
"I - I said it before, and I mean it. I wouldn't ever do that to you Karkat, I swear! I'd never, not to you... I just.... I just need to leave every few nights, okay? It's really not that big of a deal, I mean, it's not like I can get caught."
"That. That right there. That's a problem. I can't morally let you do that to another person knowing that you're living under my roof. That makes me feel responsible!" he set his jaw and took a deep, steeling breath. It wasn't an option. He had to do something to help. "I'm not going to send you away. I'm not going to kick you out. But we need to find a better way to deal with... That. If it means that maybe you have to give up that noble sense of 'Karkat is off-limits' then maybe we give up that sense, huh? That translates to 'shut the fuck up, John. I'm going to let you.'. I'd rather it was me than some poor stranger out there." Was this the smart thing to do? Was he going in too deep? Offering too much? Probably. He was, after all, a huge shit-sniffing moron. Karkat had decided a long, long time ago that he was the biggest fool to walk the face of the earth. He got to prove it to himself pretty often, and he was pretty sure this time wasn't going to be an exclusion to this particular fact of his life.
John gave Karkat an absolutely horrified look. Off-limits? Karkat? Oh god, he couldn't possibly be offering that he...
"Wh-what?! No. No, no, no, no! No way, I'm not doing that to you! How the fuck do you think I could do that when you've been so nice to me? This is the first home I've ever had! I'm not going to rape you!" For someone that supposedly had to have quite a bit of sex in his lifetime, John's face was probably redder than a blushing virgin. Why was it suddenly so horrible now that it was someone he actually knew? "I'm not going to - oh my god -"
"I'm offering. I don't see how that's rape. I'm not saying 'no, you can't do that', John. I don't personally think it's rape if I offer. If you need it, then let me help."
The blush staining John's face didn't let up in the slightest. In fact, though it seemed impossible at first, it actually got a bit darker. "H-how about we, um... we just wait? I mean, I can go a few days without... you know..." Oh god, he couldn't even look at Karkat again. He pondered for a moment if it would have been easier if Karkat just kicked him out. No, no he would have been depressed for god knows how long. But this - he's never had sex before. He's never fed off of someone willing before. It was embarrassing on a whole entirely new level he didn't even know existed. "I can't believe you're even letting me stay. And now this? There has to be a limit to how selfless someone can be."
"Yeah, no. There's no limit to my selflessness. I've been spelunking down that waste chute for a while. It's full of good feelings for other people and reminders that I'm a huge piece of shit, as well as little whispers of 'you should do more to help other people.'. Isn't there less to be upset about when you know the person you're with is expecting it, and open to it?" he frowned, turning his attention to the discolored popcorn ceiling.
The younger boy fell silent for a moment, contemplating the idea. As much as it gnawed at his conscience to take advantage of someone he really cared about, the thought of no longer having to rape humans was an uplifting feeling. He wallowed in self-hate for so long, cried more often than he should... A trickle of bravery pushed him forward, and he wrapped his arms around Karkat in a sudden embrace, burying his forehead in the teenager's shoulder. "I don't want to do that anymore, Karkat." He took in a shallow breath, fingers clutching the fabric of Karkat's shirt. "I hate forcing people to endure something so horrible. I can't stand it. I've tried starving myself but I just lose my mind and I wake up with blood on my hands and... and...!"
Karkat couldn't help hugging his upset friend, holding him close.
"Then I'll help you. It's not so horrible if you've got consent, right? It can't be that bad." He brushed his fingers through his hair, trying to sooth him.
The contact was readily welcomed, much to John's surprise. He relaxed noticeably, leaning a bit more against Karkat's slightly taller form, and he closed his eyes. Everything was sinking in, and John couldn't help but feel elation amongst the torrents of unease and apprehension and excitement. He had a home. Not just a house, a home. And his roommate cared about him enough to share his suffering, he accepted him even though he was inhuman and kind of scary looking, and Karkat was just such a wonderful person John had no idea how to contain the astounding amount of appreciation and adoration he held. He sighed contentedly, and quietly, a softly vibrating rumble emanated from his throat.
"...You're full of surprises, aren't you?" Karkat muttered, slumping back on the couch, holding on to John with a small, affectionate smile. Now that that worry was out of his head, he was able to simply relax.
It seemed like the other boy needed the contact, and what could sleeping on the couch hurt? John did it, a lot. Okay maybe they both needed the contact, after the night they'd shared.
"Get some sleep, assbutt." he yawned, snuggling down into the ugly fabric.
"Hwah?" John replied intelligently, leaning back just enough to look at Karkat's face with confused eyes. "... Are you not going to go to your room?"
"I'm tired, lazy and warm. Good enough excuses to stay out here, if you don't open your trap and vomit words all night." he cracked an eye, peering at John with a critical expression. "Settle down and get some rest."
John smiled softly, and he giggled for a moment before settling back down, snuggling against the older teen's chest with more rumbling in his throat. He may have actually nuzzled Karkat's neck a bit as he settled himself down, not that he'd admit it anytime soon. He wasn't an expert on human sociality, but he had a nagging feeling that perhaps they were both overstepping some personal boundaries here. But he didn't care. What was wrong about two good friends sleeping together for one night, anyway? It was the first time he ever had something warm beside him, another person's heartbeat close to his ear. It was wonderful, knowing someone cared about him, and now he had someone he cared about as well. The other demons from the underworld were stupid. The human idea of friendship was one of the best things he's ever experienced.
"Thanks, Karkat." He whispered one last time before closing his eyes to fall asleep.
"Yeah yeah." the other boy grumbled back, rubbing a hand along John's spine, comforting him as much as he was reminding himself that he was there. A little while later, in the quiet of the dark: "You're welcome, idiot."