Unspoken Attraction (Dave/Karkat)

It had been a long plane ride. Long and trying and just plain unpleasant. Karkat was rubbing at his eyes before the elder Strider even got them onto the bus. He was damn near silent (well that was obviously not his fault, Troll Biology was different than Human biology so he couldn't help but grunt and growl when he was jostled, that had nothing to do with his faulty vocal cords) the entire time, just enough to pique the Strider's interest.

He had been informed that Karkat was the troll that typed in capslocks like an angry little fucker, and it stood to reason that he was just as loud in person. It was worrying that the little troll (little guy barely came up to his shoulders) hadn't uttered a single insult the entire fourty five minutes he had been in sunny, sweltering Houston Texas. Even more worrying, the troll hadn't complained about the heat even once, and Bro could see the pink tinted sweat starting to soak into the neck of the grey shirt he wore.

By the time Bro was guiding his house guest off the bus at the corner right by the apartment building he lived in, he had it all figured out. It had to have been the cruelest of pranks for them not to warn him, cruel for both the Striders and the troll.

Rather than risk the stairs (Karkat looked ready to pass out under the skin toned makeup and cheap shades that hid his trollish pallor) Bro herded him on the elevator, then into the significantly cooler apartment on the top floor.

Karkat let out a nearly soundless sigh of relief at the change in temperature.

Three weeks until the dead line for the DJ sound off competition and all Dave had so far was about a one minute long stream of failure recorded. Three weeks would have been considered nothing to the Striders, hell, they would already have something ready by then that would destroy any competition that they were up against. But it had been almost a month since Dave had made anything fresh and now that he was back at his desk, trying to mix something anything, his muse was nowhere to be found.

Dave wasn't the type to panic, far from it in fact, but he really was hard up for that cash reward which he desperately needed for his college classes and Bro wasn't exactly financially sound beyond food and shelter. Even with his temporary burger flipping job, Dave was still a good six hundred dollars short of being able to afford his college text books and winning this competition would definitely save him a few more months on the grill trying to get into other classes.

Incoherent booming emitted from the headphones over the youngest Strider's ears when Bro and Karkat arrived, rendering him incapable of even realizing that they were home. Not that he had any intention of giving them an open welcome, but he had been kind of keen on finding out more about the 'loudest' troll of the group. Even if he had been able to hear them, he wouldn't have left his work in the faintest of hopes that he was on the verge of a break through... any minute now... which he had been telling himself for the last two hours.

Bro didn't even bother trying to get the Troll farther than the futon. He shoved the troll down, telling him to take a nap, while he put his bags behind the futon where they would be out of the way.

Karkat didn't need to be told twice, he was asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.

Bro then flash-stepped to Dave's room. "Hey, What are you doing?"

Dave's head didn't turn from his computer, his sunglasses reflecting the grey jolts of line indicating a variation in the sound coming from his mix thus far. From the corner of his eye though, he had been able to spot the blur that was Bro entering his room and he muted the volume, leaving the headphones on as well as his deadpan gaze at the monitor. "Working," he answered vaguely, pulling the headphones down to his neck, "Is the caps lock troll here?"

"Yeah, he's asleep on the futon though. Figured I'd warn you so you could set up that bean bag chair bed thing or whatever the Egberts said he liked to sleep in there." Bro stated. "But I'm warning you now, no blood shed inside the apartment."

"If there's any bloodshed, it's going to be from when he steps on one of your shitty swords laying around the house," Dave replied nonchalantly, simply stating something they both knew was true. Which reminded Dave that he still needed to put a note on the fridge warning their guest not to open the freezer least he felt the strange desire to be skewered by an avalanche of said swords.

"And I'm not setting up that bag of snot they like to sleep in. If you say he's sleeping on the futon right now, I don't see why he can't settle with crashing in a normal sleeping bag." He said this only because the last time he had been stuck with sopor slime duty, the fumes alone had put him into a heavily sedated trance. When he had finally come back to his senses, he was in the middle of making out with his arm through the fabric of his t-shirt which had been draped over his head at some point in his stupor.

"Did you not hear what I just said." Bro rolled his eyes. "BEAN bag chair. I know what fucking sopor slime is and Mr. E said Karkat doesn't sleep in the shit. Sleeps in a pile of bean bag chairs. Already sent me the capchalog cards for them too." Bro pulled said cards out of his syladex and tossed them on Dave's desk. "So set 'em up in a the corner or some shit."

Seriously? Bean bag chairs? Dave arched an incredulous brow at the cards. "Anything else the princess might need?" He inquired, his gaze moving back to his monitor.

"Not as far as I know. Hasn't said a word since he got off the plane" Bro stated. Of course he knew why, he just felt like being an ass. "Why, Hoping he needs you to suck his cock? Bone bulge? Whatever the fuck Gamzee was telling you it was called"

Dave's poker face went unphased, though his tone hinted mockery, "You're calling me a cock sucker?" He finally turned away from his computer, eyeing Bro from over the computer chair, "I think you're putting the right title on the wrong Strider."

"I don't suck cock." Bro replied. "I have my cock sucked. Big difference. Now you'd better be on your best behavior, I'm sticking my neck out, doing this favor for Mr. E and I swear to god if you fuck up my chances with him, you're dead."

Like Dave hadn't heard that threat a hundred times over. "Whatever keeps you and Mr. Egderp BFF's, Bro." He smiled calmly, just more evidence as to how he no longer held his guardian's word as anything to be terrified of. Sure, when he was younger and would get his ass handed to him, he might break a sweat, but by this point, there really wasn't anything Bro could do to him that he hadn't toughed out before.

"Good. I'm leaving, order pizza or whatever later, and I'll be home around two." Bro stated, walking out.

As he passed the futon, he noticed that Karkat was drooling slightly on his pillow.

Pulling his headphones back over his ears, Dave began working on his mix once again, editing, deleting, adding, then deleting some more. He hadn't been paying attention to the time until nine p.m. rolled in and his stomach was making noises louder than what was coming out of his headphones, neither sounding any more amazing than the other. With a sad flick of his finger, the mic he had set up was switched off and his headphones were placed on the desk beside the keyboard. There was no inspiration in his music and that's what was really eating at him right about then. Whatever, it was just an off day. He'd try again tomorrow.

Dave swiped up the cards Bro had left out for him and walked out into the living room, checking to see if the fabled Karkat was awake yet as he snuck a peek over the futon.

Karkat was laying on his stomach, his head facing the blank television set, which he watched with half-lidded, unfocused eyes. He was still tired really, the only reason he had woken up was that his stomach would let out the occasional gurgle. While he had eaten breakfast, he had gotten sick on the plane and had no appetite. That and his nocturnal nature had kicked in.

He vaguely wondered where the older strider vanished to. Maybe he could convey his question about food without giving away his secret.

Dave leaned over the futon, silently watching the awakening troll with mild fascination from above. For as long as this moment was allowed to last before he would be caught, the blonde rested his chin in the palm of his hand, keeping his lazy, sunglassed vision on the sleepy guest below. Bro used to do this to him all the time as a kid; it scared the shit out of him every time he looked up and saw himself in that dark abyss in his brother's shades. Not that he ever told Bro this- that bastard always just knew how to weird him out when he was younger and even sometimes at present.

Karkat turned on his side and curled into a ball as his stomach let out an angry little gurgle. He closed his eyes as his shoulders trembled as he let out a pathetic, pained little chirp. He clutched his stomach, forgoing all previous thoughts of food.

If it hadn't been the tiny bundle the troll had curled up in, it had been the adorable miserable sound Dave heard come from the little guy that really did him over. Even so, he still managed to speak flatly as he asked suddenly, announcing his presence, "You alright there, buddy?"

Instantly, without so much as a twitch, Karkat gave out a low warning growl at his personal space being compromised. He didn't say anything (Ha! Like he could!) and he didn't do anything, just lay there and growl.

He wanted zero to do with Dave Strider. Didn't want to deal with him, especially right now.

It was hard for Dave to decide whether he should make fun of the troll for growling like a territorial cat or tease him for curling up like a kitten. "What are you, a guard dog chihuahua? Seriously dude, calm the fuck down. I was just going to order us something to eat." He said, holding his ground since he really wasn't that intimidated even though a red alert was flashing in the far region of his mind, telling him to back away from the futon. "What do you like on your pizza?"

Now that Dave mentioned pizza, Karkat was thinking about pizza. His stomach rolled in protest, which caused his growl to cut short as a dry heave racked his body. He managed to sit up, still somewhat curled in on himself, as another heave shook him. He sucked in ragged, noisy breaths, not having anything in his stomach to spare at this point as he tried to fight the nausea.

Dave got out of there fast, flashstepping back into the living room with a glass of tap water, managing to not even spill a single drop even though it was filled to the brim because he's a fucking ninja like that. Not that it would really matter if he did since it was just water and it's not like that shit stains anyway. He offered the glass to the heaving troll from the side of the couch, "I don't think you need pizza by the looks of it. How about I make you some soup instead?"

Karkat shot Dave a glare when he finally stopped heaving. He didn't like the way Dave seemed to be pitying him, he just knew Dave had some ulterior motive, so he flipped Dave the bird, ignored the glass of water offered to him and flopped back down on the futon, rolling so his back was to the blonde young man.

The younger Strider lifted his hands up in surrender, well, lifting three of his fingers off the glass in one hand anyway, replying to the troll's immature come back, "Ok, I guess more soup for me then."

He set the glass on the coffee table and headed into the kitchen, pulling out a can of chicken noodle soup from one of the cupboards. After setting it on the counter by the stove, he got out a medium sized cooking pot with a handle, plunking it over the burner and starting the gas switch. With a match from the small box by the sink where all the fireworks were, which seemed totally safe, the fire started under the cooking pot. A can opener was pulled off from the magnet that held it onto the fridge and he unfastened the soup lid, plopping the contents into the pot with a very unappetizing 'sh-splop'.

Karkat gagged softly at the sound. He rolled over and sat back up with a grimace, picking up the glass of water and slowly drinking half. Then he got up and moved to his suitcase, opening it and pulling out a grey and black blanket, and something he suspiciously bundled in the aforementioned blanket before returning to the futon to curl up under the blanket.