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Spring: part 4

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter is absolutely monstrous. It also involves sex, violence and tentadick, so please be advised. I've been waiting since December to write this :)

Also on AO3!! =====

Dave has been at Sollux's for thirty-two hours, and he is getting really fucking tired of dealing with bullshit troll relationships. Or relationships in general. Emotions, feelings and people, those all can go pretty much to hell.

It's basically like this: Dave knows he's going to make the moves on Sollux - sometimes he thinks he might already have, but he's ninety percent sure Gamzee or Tavros would've saved him from accidentally macking on a cross-faded psionic troll - but he also knows that he can't let himself do it now. Every time that seems good passes too quickly for him to come up with the perfect line, and a Strider doesn't court someone half-assed. So right now, Sollux is on the sidelines, giving him looks like come on, dude, I don't have all day, (and yes, Dave's noticed them). They've been busy searching for apartments online, using Aradia to help them figure out where they should be looking, location-wise, and they've been blasting shitty techno and playing video games too much for Dave to focus much on that whole... flushed thing. Or whatever. Fuck that noise.

Which leaves the other loose canon in his emotional crisis of a life - one Karkat Vantas, resident fucking idiot and completely obnoxious mother hen. He's pretty sure Karkat is the reason why Sollux leaves his door half open during the afternoon, like he's making sure Karkat knows nothing weird's going on. It drives Dave up the wall every time he sees Karkat glancing in as he walks by from the kitchen. The kitchen that Dave pretty much doesn't visit, relying on Sollux to get him snacks and drinks because God knows if he were to run into Karkat on his way there, the guy would hiss and spit and probably have a fucking heart-attack just from trying to pretend he isn't hot for Dave.

Sollux passed out an hour ago, leaving Dave to cruise the internet on his laptop and listen to Karkat growling and making weird snappy noises in his room next door. He gets a kind of perverse pleasure from the idea that Karkat can hardly handle coexisting with him in this vague, we-don't-talk-at-all way without having a fit. Karkat's inability to keep his emotions from boiling over is hilarious and so easy to abuse. All he has to do is yawn and stretch and accidentally knock his fist to the wall, and Karkat makes a growly noise of disproval. He wonders what would happen if he started rocking Sollux's bed just enough for the headboard to hit the wall. Would Karkat come storming in here, intent on ruining their romantic escapades? He probably would. And he'd get completely red in the face, that weird over-ripe fruit expression on his face - it's one Dave's gotten extremely used to, the slow burn of building up his advances over the years making expressions of disgust and rage from Karkat practically a second language to him.

Wait. What advances?

Dave opens up a downloaded version of some shitty Neopets game and blows up color-coded blocks for thirty minutes. During those thirty minutes, all he thinks about is how to approach possibly crawling into bed with Sollux, how he'd explain himself in the morning, if he'd need to -

And Karkat's door slams, returning him to reality. He purses his lips and listens as the other quietly stomps down to the kitchen, and considers the look on the other's face if he were to go down there for his own snack this time. No Sollux to protect him from his awkward, stupid emotional attachments, no psionics to serve as a referee if they were to actually throw down. Dave is pretty sure that's what Karkat needs. A good solid beatdown, completely platonic, to remind him that Dave just isn't fucking interested. For the first time, Dave wishes he still had his god tier cape, because getting that asshole tangled up in that thing had been fucking hilarious, and it had kind of diffused the situation. ...Not really, okay, but kind of.

Karkat just needs a good solid smack back into reality, Dave thinks. He hears the microwave beep.

Twenty seconds later and he's down the stairs, leaning against the kitchen archway. Karkat is chewing on a breakfast burrito and staring at the clock on the microwave. Dave clears his throat idly, causing him to spin around, mouth stuck in mid-chew. His eyes immediately narrow and he swallows thickly, before attempting to neutralize his expression a little. It doesn't really work. Dave's pretty sure Karkat has no idea how to wear a poker face - which works just fine for him.

"Sup," he says.

"Go the fuck away," Karkat replies.

"Man, is that any way to treat the guy you're trying to get with?" Dave approaches, then passes Karkat as he heads to the fridge, opening it up and getting an idle eyeful of the food they've got on hand. "I mean, I get that there's this whole hate thing, but telling me to go away has to be counterproductive."

Dave can practically feel Karkat's eyes boring holes into the back of his head; it's a reassuring feeling. It feels... right, even. He's not sure how to feel about that. "I'm trying to keep my fucking distance from you, you disgusting waste of space. That's what everyone keeps telling me to do, and look at me, I'm fucking obliging them, and yet here you fucking are, in my hive, abusing my friend and basically being completely fucking terrible."

"If that's what you're trying to do, bro, you're doing a shitty job of it." Dave pulls out a bag of too-ripe grapes and swings the fridge door shut, turning to lean against it. Karkat stares at him. "Stomping around, growling every five seconds, making Captor leave the door open so I can't get my red romance on - that's pretty fucking low of you, dude. Not to mention, pretty overt. I mean, if I were a man more willing to make sacrifices, I'd be downright intrigued by your advances." He pulls the bag open and pops a grape into his mouth, squishing it loudly between his teeth. "Thankfully, I've got standards, and you're way below them."

"What the fuck would you even know about this shit? You don't know anything about quadrants - the fact that Terezi's put you in one of hers just shows how fucking pathetic you are. She's just doing it to make you feel better about your sad, worthless life."

Dave has two sudden, coinciding thoughts. Don't talk about Terezi like that is one, racing alongside the memory of Gamzee pulling him in, hissing at him, you're plenty able to fill both of those quadrants.

Not that he would. He's down here to talk sense into Karkat, to confront him and get him over Dave, so they can go on their merry ways, and why is Karkat looking at him like that.

"Shit," he hears the troll mumble, and then he watches him abandon his burrito and make a beeline for the stairs. Dave moves quicker than him, though, and so it's not hard for him to grab Karkat's wrist and yank him back, the grapes abandoned by Karkat's food. "Let go of me, you stupid, gangrenous mass of -"

"Shut up for five seconds, would you?" Dave snaps, and Karkat does exactly that; he falls silent, staring at Dave with this flight-not-fight sort of look in his eye. "Seriously, all you do is yammer on, using all these big fucking words that I'm pretty sure you don't have the brainpower to actually process, and you talk all about your stupid feelings as if anyone actually gives a crap. It's stupid. This whole thing is fucking dumb. If you want some bad romance, set-fire-to-Lady-Gaga mackings, then fine. Let's fucking do it."

"I - what?"

Dave realizes suddenly that he's looming over Karkat, putting his extra height to full use, and he doesn't think he really cares. He's been looking at this all wrong. He's been thinking fuck this noise, treating the situation like it's something to actively avoid dealing with - but why? Fuck it. Terezi had warned him against Karkat, because it would pull her into some other quadrant or some shit, but why would it? And besides. Maybe all Karkat needs is to get this shit out of his system. He'll realize he's just not that into Dave and bail, and things can be fucking sane again.

So, fuck it.

You only live once, right?

Karkat's hand comes up as a defensive measure as Dave leans in, fingers flexing into a fist before spreading out wide in a sign of distress as Dave bites his lower lip hard between his teeth. He can feel Karkat resist for all of five seconds, before his hand grabs a fistful of Dave's hair and yanks him back, throwing his (somewhat considerable) troll strength around so that he can pin Dave to the kitchen archway, snarling into his mouth before thrusting his tongue between his teeth. It's really fucking underwhelming, and yet Dave can't keep from groaning a little, his hands roaming Karkat's head until they grab a hold of both horns and use them to hold Karkat close to him. He's not even sure if they're sensitive, but Karkat goes rigid anyway, hissing and scratching Dave's face a little as he drags his hand from his hair, down to his neck. He squeezes roughly, forcing the air out of Dave's lungs, and Dave finds himself gasping for breath.

It's a little fucking mortifying to be so turned on by that, but Karkat's eyes are murderous and Dave thinks it looks pretty fucking hot. In a really fucked up, one-time-only sort of way.

"You're fucking loathsome," Karkat snarls, and Dave can't help but roll his eyes at it.

"The only thing loathsome about me is that I'm entertaining your stupid crush on me, dude. You realize that's what this is, right? Me just..." Dave trails off when he feels Karkat's hip roll against his, distracted just long enough for Karkat to grin at him before finishing, "...Just humoring you. This isn't even, uh. Going to be a thing."

Karkat looks surprised for a moment, breathing hot in Dave's face, and then his face twists into a malicious expression of pleasure; he can hear Karkat purring, somewhere in the back of his throat, and feels his hips roll again. Shit.

"Yeah, that's just what this fucking is," he mumbles, biting Dave's lip. Dave can already taste copper on his tongue, but he doesn't think twice about it. He just twists his hands around Karkat's horns, squeezing roughly before bringing a hand down to his collarbone, pushing him away viciously. He doesn't think about watching his strength, because Karkat doesn't need him to. He can feel a sharp sting in his lower lip, and he runs his tongue over it, feeling the gash there and swearing under his breath because it's just like last time, except now he's not pushing Karkat away to stop him. He's just playing hard to get.

Maybe that's what he's been doing this whole time.

Karkat's shoulders are hunched, and that rasping purr has turned into a low growl, like a feral animal's. He looks ready to lunge forward. Dave beats him to the punch, reaching out a long arm and twisting his fist into Karkat's shirt collar, yanking him to the side and shoving him again, pushing until he backs into the living room couch. He keeps pushing.

"Watch what you're fucking doing, you-"

Dave lets go of Karkat's shirt, then shoves him with both hands to his shoulders, knocking him over the back of the couch with a startled yelp. Karkat's hands grip Dave's shirt as he falls, yanking him forward, and Dave finds himself climbing over the couch without thinking about it. His knee knocks into the wooden support beam and he winces, but then Karkat's claws are in his hair, digging into his scalp, and he's too busy giving Karkat's lower lip a firm gnawing on to care about the ache in his leg. He bites and snarls and hears Karkat snarling back, and he grabs him by the neck and squeezes, like Karkat had done to him. He figures it's probably something kismesises do.

Karkat's hands flail in wide arcs before his claws find Dave's back; he can hear his shirt ripping and sharp, stinging pain as Karkat claws at him, but in the heat of the moment, all the pain just goes straight to his dick. He hisses out, "Ffffuck," against Karkat's face, and scrambles for the hands sunk into his back. He pushes until he pins Karkat's arms down by the elbows, pressing them into the cushions and staunchly ignoring Karkat's legs as they kick on either side of him. He presses his face against Karkat's neck, biting right under the sharp curve of his jaw and earning a strangled yowl for his efforts. All he wants to do is bite until Karkat gives up, but he's not sure what he wants him to give up on. Him, maybe. Besting him, more likely.

"You're barely even leaving a scratch," Karkat gasps, struggling against Dave's grip on his arms, "If you're going to do this, at least try."

Dave reaches up and smacks Karkat in the face, before changing direction abruptly and reaching a hand between them. The position they're in is awkward as fuck, and Dave's shins are aching where they rest against the top of the couch, but it gives him a perfect angle to reach between them and palm Karkat roughly through his jeans. Karkat's strangled hiss is enough to encourage him, even though the thing he's feeling beneath the fabric isn't exactly what he'd expected. He's not sure what he expected, actually.

"Strider," Karkat snarls. Dave smirks and grinds his palm into the bulge he's feeling out, and Karkat has to bite back a moan. Dave wants to tease Karkat more, wants to make him beg, because that's seriously the only thing that should get him as hot and bothered as he is now, but the fact of the matter is that he's too wound up. He doesn't want to draw this out - he wants Karkat's stupid, probably ugly alien dick and he wants that shit now.

So he unzips Karkat's jeans - doesn't bother unbuttoning them, fuck that - and reaches in to pull the bulge out of his boxers. And it's fucking weird. He tilts his head down, pressing the top of his head into Karkat's collarbone, and stares at the thick tendril in his hand. It's stiff, but undulating in his grip, and Dave can't help but think holy shit, tentacle dick.

"Are you fucking kidding me," he growls. He thinks about what this means about Sollux, and what it means about him because now all he can think is this is gross, then, this is hot.

He's more fucked up than he realized.

Fuck it.

Karkat is keening under him, his bizarre bulge slowly twisting in his grip, and Dave grins unkindly and squeezes until Karkat socks him in the shoulder. "Fucking - filthy, stupid, fuck you," he snarls, incoherent as he writhes against the cushions, his feet kicking Dave roughly.

"Yeah, bro," Dave says, sitting back as best he can to undo his fly, Karkat's eyes locked onto his every move, "That's pretty much where we're going here."

"You're just..." Karkat pauses as Dave struggles out of his pants, bending in ways he hadn't thought he'd be able to move. "You're just gonna give up? Just like that?" He sounds put out.

Dave looks down at him as he shucks off his pants and boxers in one go. Karkat's eyes lock onto his arousal, looking even more put off than he sounds, and Dave raises an eyebrow from behind his shades. "I'm not giving up," he says, and he wriggles around until his knees fall on either side of Karkat's hips. Karkat's bulge presses against his own length, and it coils lightly, like it wants to wrap around him but can't quite get the move for it. Dave hisses and tries not to think about what he's doing.

"You're just going to let me-"

"I'm not letting you," Dave snarls, suddenly, as though remembering the situation at hand. He grabs Karkat's horn and yanks his head up, forcing him to his elbows so he won't break his neck, and jerks roughly enough to draw a panicked noise from Karkat's mouth. "I'm doing what I want, because you're too much of a pussy to just come and get me."

"I tried," Karkat says, and Dave really doesn't like how anxious he looks, like Dave's saying the wrong thing to him, so he leans down and bites Karkat's lip until he can taste blood. It's not coppery like his, but it's thick and metallic nonetheless. Karkat moans and digs his claws into Dave's cheek. He can feel them pierce the skin, and it's a singular fucking experience.

Karkat's bulge is secreting this bizarre red fluid, and all Dave can think is thank god, I don't have to get up. "It's pathetic how into this you are," Dave mutters against his mouth.

"I'm not the one whose bizarre bulge is standing to fucking attention like a goddamn block of stone." It's a half-assed retort, and Dave can feel Karkat's bulge twitching against his dick, but he doesn't let up quite yet. He wants to hear Karkat ask him to do it.

"You're so fucking desperate," Dave says, still muttering mostly into Karkat's mouth, "You know I wouldn't even give you the time of day if you weren't living with Sollux. Thank God that's almost over. As soon as he and I are in Los Angeles, I'll never have to see your ugly, over-ripe face squish up in trying-too-hard disdain, or deal with you stalking around, trying to get my attention like some kind of groupie with no VIP pass."

Karkat snarls and bites down on his lip again, and the blood flows between them again. Dave's whole body twitches, and Karkat smirks against his mouth.

"And you'll fucking miss someone actually giving a shit about whether or not you exist, if only because you being near them disgusts them."

He wants to strangle Karkat again. he wants to bite his horn, or yank his head back and suck on his throat until he knows that Dave has the upper hand here. But he saves it for later; he's tired of waiting for Karkat to give in, and he knows it'll go on too long if he tries to wait anyway, so he shifts his legs as wide as they'll go and pulls himself up, hovering over Karkat's bulge. Karkat stares up at him with this passionate sort of loathing in his eyes, and the strange thing is that it makes Dave feel wanted in a way he hadn't known he'd like to feel.

"You're lucky I'm allowing you to even get this far with me," Dave growls, and as he sinks down onto Karkat's bulge, he reaches a hand out and presses his knuckles into his throat. Karkat groans, then gasps, then writhes, turning live-wire under Dave. His claws reach out, digging into the back of Dave's neck, then scratch harshly down his shoulders and back, down to the curve of his spine. Dave's too overwhelmed to think about the heat dripping from his back, because Karkat is thicker than he expected, and he should have prepped himself more, and this kind of fucking hurts -

Until Karkat's bulge writhes inside him, twisting and pressing and fffuck. Dave hisses, then moans, and Karkat says, "Fucking move, you sack of shit." So Dave does. He rocks his hips, barely pulling off of Karkat, and can hear him growl and make these weird little sobbing noises. His nails dig into Karkat's shoulders through his shirt, too blunt to slice through the cloth like Karkat's have, but he doesn't care.

"Fuck, Vantas," he says, refusing to admit to the whine in his voice, rocking his hips, "Fuck."

Karkat moves a hand down and wraps it around Dave's arousal, squeezing and twisting his wrist until Dave punches him on the shoulder. "If you break it, I'll snap your nasty tentadick in half," he snarls.

Karkat relents, his grip softening until he's just barely holding Dave in his hand, and he strokes a few times before picking up the rhythm. Dave rocks and groans and tries to focus, but everything's kind of hazy. Karkat's bulge twitches and presses into the bundle of nerves inside Dave, and he can't help but howl at that, shocked by the sudden sensation. He hadn't expected Karkat to actually find that.

Karkat's eyes roll upwards, nearly into his skull, and his grip tightens unbearably around Dave; Dave punches him in the throat and makes him gag and spasm, choking and bucking his hips. It feels so fucking good that Dave doesn't see Karkat's fist until it's too late - he's knocked silly by a blow to the nose, reeling backward. His head feels even fuzzier, his nose throbbing, but Karkat's hands dig into his hips and he finds himself bucking along with Karkat. His sunglasses are askew, and he can see Karkat staring up at him with a bloody sneer on his face. Fuck, his head hurts.

Karkat jerks him off roughly, with no concern for friction burn, and Dave thinks it's gross that he's getting off on this despite that fact. He pants and twitches and feels Karkat go stiff as a board under him, his bulge pulsing, and then there's this heavy, thick feeling inside him and fuck, that's - that's enough to make Dave come too, swearing a blue streak.

He slumps against the back of the couch, Karkat's bulge still inside him, pressing against his over-sensitive nerves and wracking Dave's body with too-much-too-soon shudders.

"Fuck," Karkat murmurs. Dave tries to nod in agreement, but his neck burns. He feels way, way too tired, too quickly, and he tries to slip off of Karkat's bulge. Everything is blurry, and his mouth tastes thickly of copper.

He realizes after he manages to fall off of Karkat's bulge that he doesn't really want to move; his whole body burns, and he can see bright red dripping along Karkat's thighs. Man, it looks like someone got fucking murdered. That's fucked up.

"Strider," Karkat's saying, and Dave looks up at him. Somewhere between the moment when he'd noticed the red all over Karkat's thighs and Karkat speaking, he'd moved off the couch, kneeling next to him now. "Hey, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," Dave mumbles, and he realizes he can't breathe through his nose. "Fuck, man, I think... you broke my nose."

Karkat is staring at him, and so he blearily pushes his shades up, wincing as the move brings fire through his arm. He doesn't like the look on Vantas's face one fucking bit. He looks... wigged out.

"Shit." Suddenly, somehow, Karkat's hands are on him, pulling him forward, and Dave groans in pain. Fuck, his back is so goddamn sore and hot. "Shit," Karkat hisses into his ear, "Shit, fuck, fuck."

"What?" Dave mumbles, craning his head despite the pain that shoots up through his skull. He realizes that there are dark red blotches all over the couch, especially where he'd been sitting. What the fuck. "What-"

"I'm so fucking sorry," Karkat says, "I'm - fuck, I didn't think-"

"Vantas," Dave says, slowly, unable to put any real malice in his tone, "Did you fucking maul me."

"Oh fuck."

"You fucking mauled me."

Now that Dave knows he's bleeding, he can suddenly feel it all over - his nose is dripping blood, his mouth is gashed open, there are long, deep cuts across his chest and arms, and the burning pain in his back means it's probably the same. He feels kind of dizzy, now that he thinks about it, and he wonders if he's got a concussion to boot.

"Just - fuck, hold on," Karkat's saying, stumbling over himself to push himself back into his pants, staggering to Dave's boxers and helping him get them on. "Shit, I have - just hold on, okay, I have to go get Sollux."

"Fuck no," Dave says, but by the time his brain catches up with the situation, Karkat is well out of arm's reach. Dave slumps and closes his eyes, then thinks better of it and forces himself to keep them open. His hands are shaking, which is a bad sign. Fuck, his head is killing him.

Karkat is shouting, but Dave can't really focus on the words, and before he knows it Sollux is crouching in front of him, staring at him with this strange, horrified sort of expression.

"Sup," Dave says, because what the fuck else do you say when you're pretty much bleeding out on your bro's couch after having hate sex with his best friend?

"We need to go to the hothpital," Sollux says, and Dave groans because that sounds so fucking not fun. He doesn't want to explain this to a nurse. Karkat looks downright fucking ashen, his own split lip dripping bright red blood onto his chin. Dave has to admit, he's kind of deliriously proud of that.

It takes some effort, but Karkat and Sollux manage to pull Dave up. Dave feels like dead weight, and he can't find his footing, but Sollux uses his power to help keep him upright and, for the most part, Dave doesn't have to do shit.

"I can't fucking believe you," Sollux is snarling, and Dave's never heard him sound so angry before. "I can't fucking believe you, Vantath, I can't. How could you-"

"I didn't mean to," Karkat says, but instead of sounding irritated or pissed off, he just sounds scared. Dave imagines that Karkat could get in a lot of trouble for this. "I didn't think-"

"Yeah, that's fucking right you didn't!"

Dave groans, "Glad you two care, but, uh, kind'a been mauled over here."

"Shut up," Sollux growls, and Dave hunches his shoulders, immediately cowed. "I'm not even near ready to tell you jutht how much of a fucking moron you've been. I can't fucking believe thith."

"Vantas started it," Dave says, quietly, and then he laughs because fuck, yeah, he did. Sollux seethes, but doesn't say anything as he helps Karkat get Dave into the backseat of his car. Dave lays across the back seat and tries not to close his eyes.

He doesn't know when, but suddenly they're driving - or, Sollux is driving, which is weird as fuck because since when does Sollux actually drive - and Karkat is saying something in a tear-stricken voice that Dave can't quite make out. His head is pounding, his nose throbbing, his back is on fire -

"-I'm so sorry, Sollux, I didn't mean to, I didn't realize, he was fine, we were just-"

"Don't," Sollux snaps, an edge of hysteria to his voice, "Don't even fucking go there, I don't want to hear it."

Karkat turns in the passenger seat to look at Dave, who blinks back at him. "Strider, don't you dare fucking die."

"Shut up, you moron," Dave replies, slurring a little but staying coherent, "I'm not gonna die."

"This isn't the time for your caliginous attempts, idiot," Karkat snarls.

Dave struggles to sit up, despite the pain in his head, and grabs for Karkat - he manages to get a hold of his ear and he yanks, earning a snarl. "You don't even know how t'bone someone without fuckin' maulin' them," he says, "This is the perfect fuckin' time for calig'nous remarks. You're fuckin' stupid. Told you you weren't worth my fuckin' time."

Karkat barks out a laugh and yanks Dave's hand from his ear, sounding hysteric but looking kind of relieved. Sollux growls but doesn't say anything.

The rest of the short drive goes by in a blur of light and colors, and Dave doesn't realize he's being helped into the E.R. until someone shouts for assistance. Then, there's no fucking way for him to keep track of what's going on - everything moves too fast, and he reels until someone sticks him with a needle.

He comes to a couple of times. He hears Sollux explaining something to someone, then Karkat making these terrible hiccuping sounds. He sees a pretty nurse at his side, and he slurs out a compliment that she laughs distractedly at. Sollux leans over him at one point and hisses, "I am tho fucking angry at you."

He feels pretty shitty for that.

When he finally starts gaining real, honest awareness of his situation, he's lying in a hospital bed in the E.R., Sollux and Karkat nowhere to be found and a troll he doesn't know standing next to his bed, checking the readouts on the monitor he's connected to.

"Fuck," Dave says, breathing through his nose and finding that he can do it, even if it hurts like a bitch, "A sack full of fuckin' cats, bro."

"Excuse me?" the troll asks, turning to look at him.

"Vantas," he clarifies, "is a sack full of cats."

The troll frowns for a moment, then smiles wryly and pulls up a chair, sitting down next to Dave. He starts talking, and Dave tunes him out a little, until he hears Karkat's name. Then, he stares at the troll until he repeats himself.

"Mr. Vantas may be in a lot of trouble," he says, slowly, "If this was an unprovoked-"

"Hah." Dave laughs, making a face at how that sounds. "Yeah right, are you kidding? I was the one who instigated this shit."

The troll doesn't look phased. "Caliginous romance is not something a human is physically capable of handling," he says.

"Fuck you, you don't know me." He grins and blinks at the doctor, who looks put off, "You don't know what I've been through, dude. You don't know shit."

"As it stands, this is above and beyond what usually happens - Mr. Vantas is displaying signs of classic kismesissitudal upbringing. He's extremely violent."

"Yeah, he is," Dave snaps, and now he finds himself struggling to sit up. He knows full well that the trolls that live on Earth now aren't the same as the twelve that helped create the world in the first place. They think they've been living here for centuries. That their old planet's attitudes are a thing of the past. That this kind of violence is outdated and dangerous. Which might be right, but Dave's not about to let some motherfucker slander his bros just because he doesn't know what it used to be like.

"Mr. Strider-"

"No, shut up." Dave points at him. "You don't know shit 'bout me and my friends, so how about you fuck off. I'm not pressin' charges or anythin', so he's not in trouble, and if I want him to get rabid on my ass, there ain't nothin' you can do about it."

Fuck, he wishes he weren't still doped up, he sounds like a hick. But it doesn't matter, because the doctor seems to actually take him seriously.

"I would like to recommend quadrant counseling," he says, tentatively.

"I'd like to recommend you go get my kismesis so I can punch him in the face for breakin' my nose."

He doesn't mean to actually call Karkat his quadrantmate, but it slips out, and he remembers Gamzee again. I never said you couldn't do it. That's not exactly what Chuckles said, but it's close enough, and it's exactly what Dave thinks right now. The troll is looking at him with sad, misunderstanding eyes.

"Mr. Strider - humans, generally, aren't very suitable for these kinds of quadrants - as it stands, Mr. Vantas poses a serious threat to your health, should you continue to pursue-"

"Hey." Dave struggles, leans forward, and forces himself to recall that vicious growl Karkat had made when he'd shoved him towards the couch. He manages to mimic it pretty decently, and relishes in the fact that the troll looks sincerely fucking shocked. "Fuck. Off. I'm not pressin' charges, I'm not upset at him, and I'm not gonna die. So go. Tell. My. Friends. I'm. Fine."

He wishes that he had the Lalonde stare of death perfected, but he has to make due with what he's got. Thankfully, it seems to work, because the troll quickly excuses himself and leaves. Dave slumps back into the pillows and groans. Fuck everything. This was not supposed to go this way. He's definitely sure he isn't supposed to feel so fiercely protective over Karkat, either, but he can't help it. The asshole was from a different world than these trolls. Aradia had told him enough about the cultural divide for him to know that.

Karkat slips through the curtain with his tail proverbially between his legs, his lip stitched up and an ice pack in hand, which he holds to his throat. Dave's sickly pleased to see that it's mottled reddish-black.

"Dave, I'm-"

Karkat comes right in range, and Dave reaches out and socks him in the face. Karkat howls and stumbles back, dropping the icepack and grabbing his nose, snarling obscenities.

"That ought'a teach you."

Karkat stares at him for a full minute, before sagging and falling into the chair the doctor had been in, holding his nose with one hand and reaching out to squeeze Dave's wrist with the other. Dave grins lazily.

"But we're not doing that shit again," he says. Karkat looks pained, so he clarifies, "The scratchin' shit, I mean. You're too fuckin' stupid to handle that shit, I should've known."

"Fuck you," Karkat snaps.

"Jesus fuck, dude, I'm not even outta the hospital yet. Are you that fucking desperate?" When Karkat doesn't respond immediately, Dave frowns and adds, "I'm doped up to hell, fuckhead, I'm not in any position to be super black with you. Give me a few days."

Dave has a feeling that it isn't normal for a troll to look so relieved at a black admission, but he lets it slide because Karkat is fucking weird. He doesn't ask if this means they're seriously filling a quadrant, which is a relief, because Dave doesn't know if he has the strength to punch him again. It's probably not going to be the way Karkat wants it to be, but it's better than nothing, he supposes.

Karkat's nose is barely swollen and not broken at all, so he doesn't get called out as he slips from the E.R. room a few minutes later. Sollux comes in, and now that Dave can see him properly, he can tell that the fucker hasn't been doing anything but worrying this entire time.

"Hey," Dave says.

Sollux sits in the chair and doesn't say anything, just looks at him.

"So, I know we were all, y'know, not rooting for this to happen, but it sort of has, and I'm hopin' you're not going to let this change your mind about L.A., because, sorry to say, I'm already packing my shit, and I don't want to have to unpack-"

"Your eyeth are red," Sollux says, and Dave snaps his mouth shut. He forgot about his shades - or lack thereof.

"Uh," Dave says. "Yeah."

"Your eyeth are red, and you nearly bled to death."

"...Yeah."

Sollux leans forward and drops his head onto the uncomfortable hospital bed. "My head ith fucking killing me," he murmurs, and he sounds so fucking miserable. Dave reaches out a hand and cards his fingers through Sollux's hair.

"...I don't do apologies," he says, "But I'm sorry."

He feels something warm and tingly, like static electricity, brush the stitched up gash on his cheek, then sing along his scalp, the pressure moving and mimicking Dave's own fingers.

"Yeah," Sollux says quietly, "Yeah, I know."

"...We cool?"

Sollux is silent for a long time, but the psionic pressure doesn't let up in Dave's hair, and he never stops moving his own fingers. Finally, Sollux leans his head back, looking Dave right in the eyes.

"Yeah." He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, "We're fine. I..." He looks really fucking tired, and Dave feels his gut twist at the look on Sollux's face. "I really don't want to authpithticize for you two. Pleathe don't make me." The tone of his voice only makes the guilty twist even worse.

"No." Dave scratches the short hairs on Sollux's neck gently, earning a low noise. "I'm not gonna do that shit to you or Terezi. Everybody's gotta stop acting like they need to step in here. Me and Vantas are fine. We've got this." He pauses, considers, then says, "Just a kink we'll work out with the situation. It'll be fine."

"...Are you seriously going black for KK?"

Dave shrugs. "It was pretty hot, up until I got grated like a prime piece of salami in a sandwich shop."

Sollux chuckles, wheezing a little, and then drops his head back down to the mattress. "Fuck. Dude." He keeps chuckling. "Fuck me."

"All of you trolls want up on my bonebulge the second I'm in the hospital," Dave drawls, "What the fuck is up with that?"

Sollux lifts a hand and punches Dave's shoulder without looking, then drapes his arm across Dave's thighs and leaves it there. Dave doesn't do a damn thing to move him.

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tis the season, bro