Archive of Our Own ^beta

The important thing to recognize here is that you did not ever intend to drug your friend—or trap yourself in a vortex of emotional trauma. This began as a harmless prank, but isn’t it amazing how these things spiral out of control? The wacky hijinks just will not stop, and oh fuck.

Karkat is telling you about your lips again. Your trauma is boundless.

Let’s back up.

This all began with the alchemiter.

Actually, no. Ha ha, you goofed it again! This began with Karkat telling you about his hatecrush—on pesterchum, which will become relevant—and wanting makeouts because he thought you were full of shit? It’s sort of less condescending than it sounds. You replied that you were not into it like that. Then the two of you decided to find mutual satisfaction in the best friendship, uh, EVER?

It’s really part two of the whole shebang that involved the alchemiter. You were trying to alchemize soda and dynamite together (dynamite soda even sounds cool). Unfortunately, your sylladex felt like it should be an asshole and instead of explosives it spat out one of the aggressively non-aggressive notes Rose keeps giving you about where it is appropriate for teenage boys to leave their dirty socks. It got zapped into a card that would surely be the most useless card of them all and while you were grumbling and fumbling with other captcha cards in an effort to find the dynamite, Jade came racing over in hot pursuit of a raving Terezi, she shoved you, and somehow you stuck the wrong card in the machine. Poof, both your soda and the passive-aggressive Rose card were gone and you were left with a two-liter plastic bottle of something venomously green that was labelled ‘Carbonated Truth Enhancer.’

You reflected that this sounded like drugs and you probably shouldn’t drink it. You also could not morally reconcile yourself to leaving it out where your hyperactive friends could find it, so you captchalogued it and immediately forgot it existed. You didn’t remember until you were looking for some TAB you’d stashed away. At the time you were sleep-deprived, and Karkat had been bitching at you for an hour while the both of you got increasingly terrified that something in the bowels of the meteor had eaten Sollux. You were really thirsty. Labels were beneath your notice.

You drank the truth enhancer.

You swallowed a full mouthful before you recoiled and observed what exactly you were holding. It wasn’t as fizzy as it promised to be and it tasted the way play dough smells; like a polite, creeping, old person death.

You did the mature thing. Once Sollux was retrieved from the meteor’s electronic wiring systems (he was fine), you locked yourself in your room to die.

As your heart raced and your palms sweated, your eyes found your way to the Nick Cage poster on your wall. “Death while looking at such manly biceps,” you declared, for some reason thinking out loud; “A fine end.” His face was chiseled and noble. His eyebrows? Majestic. Downright majestic. About the time your dissertation on the gloriousness of Nick Cage veered into the uncomfortable territory of what those manly biceps would feel like around a guy, you closed your eyes. Your sleep-deprived brain provided a variety of cluttered ideas for you to rant snatches about, and then suddenly Karkat was in your head. Your mouth gaped open.

Oh, Karkat.

How can—and this is a very serious question—anything have such big, dorky ears? They swivel in their sockets at every sound, velvety tips trembling under your fingers when you touch. You can’t be blamed for not leaving them alone. You bet they’d be all droopy if Karkat ever gave up on being a grump and smiled. Drooping like a lazy puppy. The pads of his palms are scratchy and squishy at once, like a dog’s paws covered in cactus prickles. You like poking them. As it stands, his hand violently messes up your hair when he’s too happy to punch you. So much emotional depth there. You really like Karkat. His voice is like Velcro being unsnapped too fast.

Your throat got sore before you ran out of things to say about Karkat.

You came to three hours later with a headache throbbing in your cranium and profound embarrassment over what all you’d been discussing with the walls of your room. You had a newfound respect for carbonated truth enhancer, which you now figured was probably not drugs, but some sort of truth serum. Have a sip and aggressively talk about your feelings for the next several hours. It occurred to you that you should maybe be careful with something like this.

You promptly shot this down because the pranking possibilities were literally endless.

You spiked Dave’s apple juice with a few drops because you were curious. Immortal best friends with time control powers are pretty much made for experiments anyway, right? He didn’t completely lose his verbal filter—didn’t seem to realize that anything was off—but with a little coaxing he was telling you all about his weird problematic crush on your ectosister AND Terezi and you were patting him on the back consolingly. And feeling kind of disturbed, but mostly you were making with the mad comfort.

Morally gray area? Ha ha, what morally gray area? Seriously, if all your friends weren’t such cagey bastards, you wouldn’t need to drug them to get them to tell you their problems. Your pranks are both hilarious and helpful.

You thought Dave might act like less of a tool if he had a conversation with them about this, so you decided to set that up. Problem solved. The next order of business: you wanted to see if truth enhancer worked on trolls too.

You know, just in a purely objective science sort of way.

Karkat is the only troll you know super well.

And fine, maybe he’d been floating through your head on repeat. Jade will usually talk about whatever is bothering her and between Rose and Kanaya’s superbrains, you doubt you have the capacity to solve whatever problems they might have. But Dave has a million and one dumb secrets and Karkat is just… Karkat. He makes out that all of his emotions are violent and scary. He has also burst into tears mid-normal conversation and you never want that to happen again.

You just wanted your best buddy to tell you all his woes a little, okay? Because sometimes, you know, the dude just needed a hug and was going to be horribly pissy about that hug, but needed it anyway. This was like that, but with more science. Your shoulder was ripe for some leaning. You had manly back pats with his name on them.

Also, Karkat is, after Jade, your favorite person to prank. Your life needs a panic button for Karkat-isms and the funny faces he makes (and those ears!). His reactions are an inspiration to all and this was, in retrospect, supposed to be really funny.

Your plan was simple and classy. You would campaign until he’d agreed to a movie marathon.

You then promised to watch some of his favorite romance films (you coupled this with vomit noises to explain that you actually do kind of like them, but you like seeing him scowl at you more). As anticipated, he told you that you didn’t have time for this kid stuff and you both had a world to save, and you cheerfully cut the knees out of his argument by saying you’d alchemized another new DVD. He grumbled that he would bring the popcorn because you always burn it when you make it. Success. You queued up your films, he settled onto the sofa with the bowl of buttery deliciousness propped up on his knees, and you handed him a glass of punch.

“Watered down and gross,” you told him brightly. “Just like you like it.” Trolls do not deal well with the same concentrations of sugar you’re used to.

His punch was the green apple stuff Dave had made last week, which went a long way to hide the dash of green truth enhancer you’d mixed in. Karkat didn’t really look, just took a long sip and grunted at you expressively until you accepted some popcorn and acknowledged his mastery over the microwave. Fluffy and delicious. Yummm.

He slouched into the cushions a little more, eyes fixed on the screen. Your movie was up first and you could barely contain yourself between the adrenaline-rush action scenes and the thrilling anticipation of when Karkat was going to start babbling his innermost thoughts at you. You had to fight off giggles more than once. Karkat gave you some weird looks, but this was great. You flicked his wiry hair and he made faces. He threatened to unman you if the movie had ‘one more pornographically-rendered, ass-sucking explosion.’ You ate a lot of popcorn.

And the movie ended without him having done anything but typical Karkat behavior.

You eyed his empty glass and frowned.

“What’s wrong with your facial contortion?” Karkat demanded, prodding your cheek. “Stop that. It’s creepy.” You snorted, clambering off of the sofa.

“Nothing! Put your movie on. Are you thirsty?” Karkat held out his glass wordlessly.

Maybe it just took more truth enhancer to kick in for Karkat. Maybe it was a troll thing. Or maybe Dave’s secrets were literally bursting out of his poor, overburdened coolkid mind and Karkat was a little more genuinely guarded.

Good thing you cared so much!

You sure hoped that he wouldn’t taste the fact that his drink was now over 50% truth enhancer. You stirred, then dropped back to Karkat’s side with fresh beverages as the opening credits to his romcom rolled. He reached blindly for the wrong glass, but you steered the enhanced one into his grip and watched him gulp it down. You leaned against him a little when he didn’t gag and immediately spew it at the screen.

Success? But he didn’t seem any more truthful. Dave had gotten frisky with his truthy bits really fast.

“What?” Karkat glanced up at you with his eyes narrowed. You got the feeling that he’d seen this movie before, since it was still the opening credits, but his voice was already doing the emotional croaking thing. “Why are you in my space, Egbert?”

“Because any movie you picked is going to reduce us both to tears, and I’m making you damper than me,” you said succinctly. “This is not a threat, but a promise. I am going to dribble all over you.” Karkat sneered, but his ears went a little red and he was probably kind of happy a little. After a moment his arm wrapped around your shoulder.

“Fuck if I will let that happen. I will expel saline compounds at fucking power jet pressure.” You laughed and he made hilarious Karkat faces.

Maybe Karkat was just immune to the truth, you thought. Then you were just spending an evening bundled up with him, watching movies and figuring how best to cry on him, huh? That was also kind of great. You smiled. Yeah, that would be pretty goddamn spectacular.

You honest-to-god let go of your truth-enhancing aspirations right there, okay? This was never some intricately devised plot.

This was, however, the point where it all started to go downhill.

See, Karkat’s movie was every bit as tear-jerking and exhaustingly dramatic as you’d predicted. Also as usual, you got entirely engrossed in the love triangle going on. Troll movies have ways of making the love triangles less lame. Like here, the girl had done the troll-marriage thing with her pale-ladybro quadrant, and pale-ladybro-troll was setting her up with this best friend. This guy was hilarious and liked the heroine so much that you had to root for him, but the heroine had also just been rescued by this dashing highblood guy who was totally gonna team up with her and take over a small planet. Experience told you that she could troll-date them both but had to first figure out which one she was hatemantic with, so you were watching pretty closely. Best friend guy was doing a thing with her hair and you were trying to figure out if it was happy flirting or the kind of flirting that got scary towards the end. Karkat told you, not uncharacteristically, “That guy is so fucking stupid.”

“I know,” you answered with a critical nod. “He just needs to tell her how he feels! How is she supposed to know?”

“And those glasses,” Karkat growled darkly, “Just look at them.” Karkat aimed a glare at the TV screen, and presumably the love interest’s glasses. “Fucking dorky as shit, wriggler-looking, obnoxious—“ He paused for breath and then added darkly, “Temptation.”

You got this shiver all the way up the back of your neck, and it didn’t go away. You eventually remembered to breathe, and then stared over at your troll buddy in alarm. The way he’d said that word was a little… odd.

“What,” you said sort of flatly. The glare melted right off of his face and it was just you, the ears, and Karkat’s narrow-eyed gaze.

“You have a nice voice,” Karkat informed you.

This was when the alarm bells started to go off.

Alright, so let’s take a moment to discuss part one and a half—part one-point-five?—of this tale. You like Karkat’s voice too, is the thing. It would be awesome for action adventure narration! All rumbly and smooth, with this cool rasp growling around the edges. When you wake him up, it always takes Karkat a little while to work up to shouting. You could listen to him all day long like that, even just reading a shopping list. It’s kind of scary.

Once he is awake enough to form complex sentences, Karkat basically just shouts himself hoarse. Don’t get you wrong—you like that too. It’s hilarious.

It does not, however, give you neck shivers.

You waited for the inevitable punch line after Karkat said those words. He said them, mind you, in a smoky purr that melted down your spine like an ice cube. Your heart sped up. Your shoulders rose in another shiver. Your eyes unfocused enough that all you could focus on was that Karkat not-shouting. Gradually, it dawned on you.

Ladies and gentlemen, let the fun begin.

Karkat Vantas’s truth was officially enhanced! Oh, so that was why he was talking funny. You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face. Melty neck-shivers aside, this was perfect.

Karkat’s mouth went a little slack and you felt almost bad that you made your best buddy look so drunk—should have used less truth enhancer, but that’s the thing about hindsight. You only really use hindsight when Karkat is already drooling in your direction.

“Fuck, your smile is so incredibly beautiful,” he said, and oh look, it was now Problem Time. You may like Karkat’s voice, but you like his sleepy mumbles, not what just happened in your ears. What just happened to your ears had all the subtly of a nuclear warhead. He was speaking in this thrumming, liquid purr. It drenched your ears and—and dripped, and by ‘beautiful’ you weren’t breathing. You were just sitting there, stunned from the unplanned serenading, staring at Karkat’s face.

His voice. Oh god, what just happened with his voice? It was like silk. It was like—

Karkat said your name and you thought, calmly, that you should probably cross your legs. Right now. “Erglek,” you said eloquently, summarizing your feelings on the matter.

Karkat was giving your frozen smile that look that you give a fresh cheeseburger after days of nothing but granola bars. You gripped the TV remote, like you were afraid you would need to fend off Karkat’s teeth (although you had a sneaking suspicion thoughts like that are why Jade on occasion refers to you as a cop out).

“And you don’t even have the slightest fucking clue what you do to me.” Karkat sighed—and again. Rich and sweet and low; piano keys perfectly in tune. You dug your nails into the fabric of the couch. How was he doing that? “Out of all the ways you could make me want you.” He shifted closer, each half-purred consonant like a sugar rush. “You pick this? Does it even register in your freakish simian brain?” He waved a hand.

Did he just gesture to all of you?

More importantly, why were you staring at his mouth?

“I am rapidly increasing my understanding,” you said, and grabbed the top of his head, turning him to face the TV screen.

Just call you Doctor Egbert, psychologist extraordinaire. Breaking eye contact with you was sure to take his mind off of any weird residual hatefeelings! You knew he was over it because of the very unsubtle Terezi thing.

Of course, you directed Karkat to look at the TV right as the protagonist took the girl troll into his arms and kissed her with all the dramatic passion of true love. Karkat sighed wistfully at the sight. And you just—you just got this chill.

“Ha, that’s right. Pin her against the wall, she deserves it.” His voice dropped lower still—holy shit, holy shit, you could not take this. You bit your lip, shuddering again. “It’s like assholes think patience is some infinite wellspring of generosity. Especially when you give me those damn looks of yours.”

“What looks?” You choked, mildly horrified. There were no looks. There were never any looks and you both needed to erase that claim from your mind immediately. Karkat had very impressive neck muscles, it seemed; even with both of your hands plastered to the sides of his head, trying desperately to distract him with TV, Karkat managed to face the way he wanted to. Glaring and fangs showing and the curve of his jaw inappropriately fascinating. Looking right at you.

“You know what looks.”

With great effort and desperation, you did not swallow your own tongue. You coughed feebly a little and managed, wheezing, “Oh. Okay.”

“And the giggling and your hair is floppy and your jokes do not deserve to be funny. You bastard.” Karkat’s lips flattened together in outrage. “I need a help manual on how to give up on you. And you’re not supposed to know any of this.” A crease formed between his eyes while you struggled in vain for oxygen. Heart leaping in your chest, toes curled, and all Karkat was doing was not-shouting. His voice. His goddamn voice. “Why the fuckbasket am I telling you?”

Well, Mr. Vantas, you’re discussing your probably imaginary crush because I drugged you with truth serum and right now I am really, really sorry about that fact. Let’s talk about Terezi, who is not me.

What you told him was, “Gee, Karkat, I think you’re probably really tired and should lie down.” Your meaning was more along the lines of I need to retreat behind the nearest set of locked doors and have a really special, meaningful panic attack. It’ll be festive and everything. Very cool.

“Who the hell is tired?!” Karkat’s eyes did that flashy thing. Flashy eyes and sonorous voice, bass enough that it vibrated in your bones as he growl-purred at you. The combined effect sort of made you gasp aloud. “How could I be tired, when you’re sitting right here and I could actually fucking touch you? You’re goddamn electricity, you are an open wire—you offend me and fuck, I want to kiss you.”

Did you maybe moan? Yes.

Did you also just need to invest in a nice set of earplugs and call it a day? Also yes.

Look.

It was plainly the movie’s fault! It was romantic and complicated and full of quadrant things, and you know Karkat doesn’t deal well with those! It makes him act really weird! You shot a chastising glare at the movie. You were aghast to discover that there were significantly less clothes. Blanket activities ahoy. And Karkat tried to follow your line of sight.

Goddammit. Could he just not, for two seconds?

“STOP!” You yelped in alarm, grabbing him by the cheeks, which got you a rumbly growl but otherwise did arrest Karkat from getting new ideas. Bad movie, so bad. Evil. “Stop, uh, I mean. You…” Quick, an excuse! “You need popcorn!”

“I will not stand for this,” Karkat seethed, tugging at your hands. You definitely did not let go. Cinematic debauchery and truth enhancer, you were just going to go out on a limb and assume, didn’t mix. His voice made every muscle in your body clench tight in desperation, so there was also that. “This goddamn scene is my life. This is one of the twenty-three paradigms of romance—just the right amount of tasteful passion in every touch. You can see it in their eyes. You may be able to enforce your unforgivably stupid human-boys-kiss-girls policies, but you cannot prevent me from watching the pailing scenes. Let the fuck go.”

“Um, okay Karkat, but maybe we should watch a different movie? Um. Since you’ve already seen this one?”

He snorted. “As if. This shit is grade A stuff.” He locked eyes with you and purred the words, “I’m betting that blush is there because you agree. You look adorable, by the way.”

Aaaaand he was looking at the screen. Meanwhile, your hormones needed to take two pills and call you in the morning. You were unwell. You felt faint. You would have absconded the fuck out of there, but your legs had turned to jello around the time he called you adorable. Karkat was currently offering a running commentary on those blanket activities.

You were kind of just screwed, weren’t you?

He got as far as “if I had you under me, I’d hold you exactly like that” before your face threatened to legitimately light on fire and you dumped your hand over his mouth.

“Karkat, shut up!”

“I can’t,” Karkat snapped at you, just enough of a normal Karkat growl to let you breathe. You sucked in several lungfuls in utter desperation. Karkat licked his lips with a worryingly gray tongue and shifted so that his side brushed yours. “I don’t have any reason to.” His voice went softer. Your stomach swooped. You could see it in his eyes, because they went all tender first, and then he was purring the gentlest of headfucks into your ear. “You’re actually listening.”

He whispered it right into your ear too. Bastard. You stifled a squeak of alarm and tried not to do anything obvious, like have your face explode. Your fingers shook from gripping the sofa cushion too hard. You saw his eyes flick down, then return to your face with color staining his cheeks. Your face was heating. You groaned. You were pretty sure he purred at you without any words at all.

And then he got sidetracked telling you about your lips. That brings everything about up to speed on what your life has turned into.

Quick addendum here: the other sound in this room? That is the trolls onscreen legitimately getting their frickle-frackle on. This movie is now upgraded from ‘evil’ to ‘kill it with fire before it devours us all.’ You squeeze your eyes shut in terror.

You never thought he still liked you. Jesus, what can you say? When you were thirteen, yes, but that lasted all of five hot seconds and he certainly never talked like this.

If he had, even, what would you have told him? I’m sorry, that’s nice, but you’re still a dude? I’m a little busy to be thinking about dating space aliens right now?

You know you would have turned him down. You also know that you have no right to be hearing any of this, because you’re specifically the person this secret was being kept from. Karkat never wanted you to know.

“I’m,” you begin. I’m sorry. I drugged you. I did not think. Fuck, I am an asshole.

His gaze burns. “I don’t think I can keep it in anymore. That’s why I have to tell you.”

No, no, Karkat. Those are the drugs.

“John Egbert,” Karkat says, and touches his palm to you, like he’s about to mess with your hair, but oh so soft. You realize, vaguely that this is where his horns are and wonder if that means something.

“Hm?” you prompt, your voice strangled and useless.

“I love you,” Karkat tells you.

Your hormones have just boarded a rocket, and it is bound for the moon.

“Oh Jesus,” you sort of wheeze, holding up your hands to try to fend him off, but they’re useless for words and Karkat’s voice just keeps getting in your ears, low and soft and full of warmth. You are a little knot of guilt in a big ocean of Karkat smoochfeelings. Music has always been your weakness, in your defense.

“That’s how I’m supposed to say it, if it’s you, right? Or—I want to be with you, I want to be yours.” He cracks one of his half-grins, gaze burning and his voice pitches lower as he murmurs, “I want to kiss every inch of your pink skin and hold onto you every day for the rest of my life.

“But I’d be gentle!” He suddenly add, spluttering a little—and you all but roll your eyes. The future Karkat girlfriend would definitely hold hands with him and he’d—he’d kiss her nose or something and you guys could do on double dates and get milkshakes. If the new universe even had milkshakes. He would be gentle. You’d always known— “I’d want to know what you liked.” He’s leaning closer, and you’re not handling it well, not processing, just staring with your lip between your teeth and exactly no understanding of what to do about him whispering. “I’d hold your hand when I kissed you, wait until you wanted to kiss me back. I wouldn’t bite you, not on your soft, pretty lips.” He licks his, which are not at all like yours—dark grayish, thinner, the mouth of a predator that you already know is kind of attractive without your brain making you look.

Thank you, brain, you complete fucker. You’re not even on truth enhancer, what is your damn excuse?

“I’d hold you close if you’d let me,” Karkat promises like he is trying to bargain for an act of god. “I swear, fuck—I’d be even gentler. I’d kiss you just like a human would.”

“Karkat,” you say, kind of strangled, and you hand is now between you two, ready to push him away.

“I’d want to taste you,” Karkat says, voice hoarse. “A lot.”

“You’re nuts,” you protest feebly.

“I blame you.” He finally touches against the barrier of your hand, and his fingers curl around yours. “John,” Karkat says softly, and you know that look. It’s one of the ones that makes you eye your feet and want to impress him. “Let me show you what I mean.”

Okay first of all, you are definitely not about to kiss your drugged up, lovestruck trollfriend.

You still shoot him a shaky smile, because you figure that kind of confession deserves one. Were you A) a girl or B) not a heterosexual, you would be a puddle at his feet. You don’t know what’s wrong with your ears to make you a shivery, overwarm mess—but it’s got to be coincidental. Fumes. Something like that. You can’t quit blushing. “Not a great plan, buddy. You need to cool off.”

“I don’t want to. Lift your head some,” Karkat pleads, soft as a breath. “Tell me it’s okay to kiss you. Please.”

He didn’t ask to kiss you back then, you see. He’s asking you now, and all that matters is what comes out of your mouth next. Right now, when you have already thought ‘he’s so cute’ enough times to start your own supply chain—except you always tack on like a puppy or some nubby red vegetable—right now, oh god, you are beginning to realize that it maybe did mean something that you were adding qualifiers after the fact. His voice is hypnotic.

It’s also not what has you shivering like you’re hypothermic, is it? This isn’t troll magic.  It's not as sudden as you'd like.

You choke out, “You can kiss me,” meaning to add ‘once’, but Karkat’s lips are touching yours before you can and you just stop thinking.

His hand gives yours this little squeeze, and he draws it out, lips lingering. It’s like getting socked there. It’s like shock. Your mouth goes numb from how soft that was. You splutter, mashing your own lips tight together and he’s still so close. “You’re… flutterbeasts.” Karkat groans, eyes half-shut. “How can you be so soft? How can you—?” You stop him with the touch of your mouth and he breathes a warm cloud against you, his hand spilling heat against the side of your neck. You press up into it, and almost know what you’re doing.

As you kiss him, Karkat thrums. It’s coming all the way from low in his chest, where your palm still rests, cocooned snugly inside his fingers. A happy sound, like a purr made of rattling window panes. Is he planning to explode himself?

You first, though.

You’re already flat against the sofa, his weight settled carefully over you as he mounts his delicate, tender assault on your mouth. His kiss parts from yours and fragments words into the room like half-melted snowflakes. Warm and John and oh fuck. “I love you,” Karkat growls at you, eyes dark and huge, so serious as they hold yours. His thumb touches your lips and you groan, because Karkat’s lips aren’t soft, but the touch is. You’ve gone to the land of pillows and warm sighs. Karkat stares down at you desperately, “How can you make me feel so good?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you croak. Karkat gently eases his mouth back to yours, making it ache in the strangest way. His tongue slides along yours and you outright moan, your movements stuttering, because your enthusiasm is kind of terrifying. When were you supposed to see this coming? Your hands knot in his shirt and you gasp for air each time he stops making out and tries to breathe. He looks down at you with terrifying softness in his gaze, stroking through your hair.

You shake your head at him. No. Stop with that face—he’s kissing you again, determined, and you moan into him helplessly. “So beautiful,” he gasps. You shake your head again, sort of reflexively, and he kisses your forehead, then tugs you into the warmth of his arms and just purrs down sweetly while you shake and choke on his name. “All over,” Karkat tells you, all truth-enhanced and devastating, “And even more beautiful inside than out.”

You’re pretty sure you don’t want to have a relationship with the troll. The guy troll. The friend troll. The Karkat troll.

You’re pretty sure you’re a little in love with him already, whether you approve or not. “Mine,” Karkat whispers to you as he kisses over your skin, like he can convince you through repetition. This isn’t entirely impossible. His voice makes you jump each time and your lips are going to get stuck like this if you don’t stop.

Eventually the movie is long over and you’re still just clinging to each other, your hands grabbing at him each time he shifts. He pets against you tentatively, all question and hope while you’re full of his tongue. In the end, he picks you up and sort of carries you off. No one sees, which prevents you from actually dying of embarrassment.

You argue, because that is what you two do, and he lets you win, so you both wind up curled up in your bed. Your nerves are singing and there’s no way you can close your eyes feeling him breathe and rest warm at your side, but he washes over you in waves. It carries you away and you drown very painlessly in the nest of his arms.

----

And when you wake up, Karkat is looking at you with those strange, bright alien eyes and not saying anything. You swallow. Your stomach is equal parts horrified by the fact that the drugs have doubtlessly worn off and you are about to get into so much trouble—and by the fact that he’s still holding you. You should not like it. This is not a brohug, and he is kissing your neck.

Why is he kissing your neck?

“Um,” you say, aghast. He can’t still be drugged, can he? Oh shit. No. You never meant to break Karkat’s brain! He leans up at the sound of your panic, looks at you again. He looks lucid.

You should apologize and you know it. If you try to explain, you’re going to make it sound really horrible. You can tell that silence is the only reason you are not being an asshole.

You are kind of an asshole sometimes. You don’t deny this. Karkat is the only one who—apparently—thinks you’re perfect anyway.

“You just went completely white,” Karkat observes at last, mouth pulling down into a frown. He sits up, letting you sort of ooze out of his grip. “You’re not experiencing human horizontal diseases, are you? Don’t start bleeding out the eyes!”

You’re a lot more concerned about him. Also, what? “Karkat,” you say instead of answering, “What was your favorite part of last night’s movie?”

“Don’t try to distract me,” Karkat grumbles, which makes you blink because that shouldn’t be possible with the truth enhancer. Don’t you just babble? Karkat makes a face. “Fuck, I have no idea what you did to me last night. Goddamn human witchcraft.”

“Truth enhancer, actually,” you moan, and outright put your face in your hands. “Carbonated for your convenience. It was supposed to be a joke, and then there were feelings. Oh man. Karkat, I am so sorry.”

“I’m not,” he says, and you make him work to peel your hands from your face. When you’re staring unhappily up at his smile, he touches your lips. Casually, with his thumb, smile widening.

You blush your goddamn head off. Him smiling is not fair.

“No, I’m definitely not,” he says. “But, to take responsibility for the heinous act of getting me to tell you how much I like you so we could make out for three glorious hours, hm. I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Now you have to go on dates with me, I guess.”

That sounds fair. Bizarre, because you figured he’d more want to punch you, but you’re willing to do whatever it takes to make this right. “Okay,” you agree, nodding solemnly. You swallow. This is so messed up. You need to plan. “How… many?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Karkat sighs back down grimly. “It might take a whole lot. It’s entirely possible that I’ll need dates with you forever.”

“Forever?” You squeak.

“Just giving you a ballpark estimate, John,” Karkat says with a gleam in his eye. To be perfectly honest, though, you’re leaning up for his kiss before he moves.