#luckybubs

[beverlyhobillies-blog]

Hehe you're pretty :)

nooo you're prettier<33

[canterberrytales]

My fourth fic was my shortest because I was submitting it really close to the deadline. :/ It's Johnkat (kind of pale-ish red-ish), and I wrote it for luckybubs.

            After Terezi, Karkat was sure it would be a long time before he fell in love again. That was why, when John and Karkat started dating, John promised to take it slow.

            “Whatever makes you feel comfortable,” John said, being as laid back as possible. “I get it. Your break-up with Terezi was difficult, and you’re not sure whether you’re ready for a new relationship yet.”

            “Thanks for understanding, John. Sorry that I’ve been so fucked recently,” answered Karkat.

            When John and Karkat had met each other for the first time in person, both were in a bad shape. The three years had taken a toll on both of them, as both drew back into themselves to escape their feelings, John hiding from the death of his father, and Karkat burying his feelings about Terezi. They had built each other up again. Somehow, through everything, they understood each other enough to help each other. It was slow going, but they were both getting better.

            John’s healing was going faster than Karkat’s however, since John had begun dealing with his problems during the three years with the help of Jade. Karkat still locked himself in his room sometimes, refusing to talk to anyone and apologizing profusely for being a terrible friend, a terrible leader, a terrible troll. At times like these, he was inconsolable. Only John and Jade could get through to him.

            One night Karkat came to John’s house, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and dark circles under his eyes. He curled up on John’s couch without saying a word, and John sat down next to him, biting his tongue to stop from asking too many questions or making a joke. Karkat sat up and leaned on John’s side, his unruly hair resting on John’s shoulder. Hesitantly, John ran his hand through Karkat’s hair, rubbing his fingertips in gentle circles around Karkat’s nubby candy corn horns.

            Karkat was warm like a space-heater, his red blood pumping like fire through his veins. With a blanket stretched tight around him, he was even warmer. John began to feel drowsy, his eyelids drooping, and he leaned down into Karkat. “You’re so cozy,” he said. “Like a big fuzzy firefly.”

            Mumbling, Karkat protested. He wasn’t cute, he insisted. Just because he came over to spend some time with John didn’t mean he wanted to put up with John being such a fucking moron, thank you very much.

            They were both tired, and they fell asleep pressed together on the couch.

            In the morning, John was in the kitchen making coffee when Karkat awoke. He set a mug out on the table for Karkat, and they sat across from each other, watching each other cautiously.

            “You know I’m not really into all that sexy stuff, right?” Karkat asked, twirling his fingertips on the rim of his mug.

            “Yeah I know,” nodded John. He took a quick swig of coffee and grimaced. John liked his coffee black.

            “Terezi was into some heavy shit, but I never,” he paused and gnawed on the inside of his mouth.

            The game had taken a toll on all of them. Karkat, who had started out as an aggressively ambitious leader with a secret, had retreated back into the self-loathing that he had worked so hard to conceal. When he thought of Terezi, how he had failed her as a matesprit, how he hadn’t been there for her when she needed him to be, he cringed inside, and his stomach buckled. He hated himself. How could he ever allow himself to be with someone when he was so unsure of himself, when he was so sure that every relationship would crash and burn? He was a mutant, an outcast, and everything that he became involved with broke.

            John reached across the table to grab Karkat’s hand.

            Slowly, Karkat raised his eyes to look at John.

            He was staring at him with that obnoxious but irresistible smile plastered on his face. He cocked his head to the side and frowned slightly, his eyebrows knitting together. “You know that I’m shit as this emotional stuff,” he said, his words flowing out of him like a sigh. “But I care about you, Karkat. I don’t know exactly why, but I have this drive to protect you, to help you. We’re friendleaders. We’re there for each other through anything.”

            Karkat could feel his heart softening in John’s gaze. Those deep blue eyes, so filled with love and concern, were impossible to ignore. They made Karkat self-conscious of how dumpy and plain he must have looked. “I don’t deserve you,” he said.

            “Don’t be stupid,” John corrected, rolling his eyes. “It’s not about being deserving or undeserving. That’s bullshit. I love you, moron.”

            They made a gigantic pile of pillows out in John’s living room, and they did their best to communicate. It wasn’t easy. John wasn’t the best listener, and Karkat found it too difficult to talk about everything. But they were able to talk about loss, even as John made jokes to try to cover up his pain. They were able to talk about new beginnings. They were able to talk about moving on. It was the first time that someone had truly listened to Karkat vent, and for the first time, moving on seemed possible.

            When John feel asleep, lulled into slumber by Karkat’s voice, Karkat was still talking, rambling about his life on Alternia, telling a story about his time spent with Crabdad. He noticed John’s breathing slow, and he heard soft snores. John’s glasses were drooping down, fallen from the bridge of his nose to rest just above his nostrils. Outside the house, the sun was high in the sky. Rays of light peeked through the blinds of the window, drawing delicate patterns onto the wood panels of the floor. In the beams of light, Karkat saw dust specks floating like small worlds. Everything was swaying in harmony. This afternoon was right, it was somehow predestined and beautiful.

            It didn’t matter what they were to each other. In the end, they weren’t boyfriends, they weren’t matesprits, they weren’t moirails, but they were something more than friends. They were each other’s safe harbors. Even though they sometimes hated each other, like when John made a joke about a sensitive subject or Karkat suddenly snapped about a little thing, they could never stay angry at each other. It was as if they were two halves of the same whole, destined to complete each other. Although by themselves they were decent individuals, together they were happier and more stable. Karkat was able to get over Terezi, John was able to move on from his father’s and Vriska’s deaths.

            Eventually, Karkat moved in with John, and in the morning, they drank coffee. Karkat started writing, keeping a journal to work through his feelings and also penning fiction novels which detailed what life was like on Alternia. He told John that he would make sure that his planet wouldn’t be forgotten. “It was a hell-hole, sure,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I want to forget it.”

            He wrote about the red skies and the lusii and the drones. He wrote about the Condesce and the failed revolutions, all the stories that made up his world, the world which had never accepted him but which he was bound to protect.

            Ever leaning on each other, John and Karkat were able to live their lives again. They moved on, and they built a world together, a world which represented the legacy of both their races. It was a beautiful world.