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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4

Chapter 5: Never Gonna

Notes: I wanted to torture Dave by making this as cheesy as possible. >D Sorry not sorry for the title.


You put the video up and tweeted the link, but your heart wasn't in it. Watching the views creep up, slowly at first, then by thousands and tens of thousands, didn't even make you smile. You tried to imagine all those people with an earworm now, one you put there, they'd seriously be singing that fucking song for days. Even that didn't help. It was like you'd used up all your feelings ranting to Egbert and arguing with Vantas, and there was nothing left but a gray lump where they used to be.

It's an imperfect metaphor, but fuck it.

You couldn't go find Captor right away. Probably that was what Vantas thought you should've done, rush in like the fool you are. But you couldn't bring yourself to shove your cool away with both hands right that fucking second.

And now, when you want to find Captor, when you're ready for it, the universe and bad fucking karma are in cahoots to make it impossible. He's not in the computer lab, not at the carrel at the very back of the library you know for a fact he has a stash of honey candies at, he doesn't even go to his locker for three straight hours.

Not that you ditch class to stake it out or anything.

As if the universe is waiting for you to give up, it's not until you resign yourself to waiting until tomorrow that you see him through the library windows.

He's outside--obviously he ditched, too--stalking away toward the parking lot, skinny frame curled around too many books clutched to his chest like a shield, and you did that, you realize with a pang that actually, physically hurts: you made him need to hide again.

The clouds look a lot more ominous than they did five minutes ago. Impatience rears up and smacks you, as if now that the waiting is almost over, it's determined to get in one more twist of the shitty sword by making you feel like you'll explode if you don't do this right now.

You slam out the closest exit at almost top speed, that impatience riding you, and you're not sure he'll even be able to hear you, but you shout his name anyway.

There's a hitch in his stride, as if he flinches, and he spins. Hugs the books tighter, as if he'd really rather throw them at you. "What the fuck do you want, Thtrider?"

So Vantas didn't tell him anything. Huh. You hate feeling grateful to him, but. You grudgingly admit--no harm done if it's just to yourself--that you do.

Which is kind of exactly the sort of shit Vantas told you to stop doing.

And you got it, you really did, but you didn't feel it.

You see the determined set of Captor's skinny shoulders, know it's the tension of trying not to break, and you sure as fuck feel it now.

You feel the weight of every stupid damn thing you've put on the other side of the scales from him, from the two of you together. Feeling cool, having it under control, needing to make sure no one can reject the real you by making sure no one knows the real you.

How in fuck could you have let that shit be more important than Sollux?

With timing you should've fucking expected, the bell rings, ensuring an audience for your humiliation. And the skies open up.

Fucking great.

"Just--" Shouting into the rain, could you be any more ridiculous? "Just let me talk to you."

"Why thould I?"

The wind shifts, and you get a faceful of rain that plasters your hair flat. You can hear that damn song playing somewhere, probably someone's phone, complete with the tinny giggles--Sollux objected especially strenuously to those--of the baby hedgehogs. You think the entire fucking school has come outside to watch this, and you can feel Karkat Vantas laughing, somewhere. You're as uncool as you've ever been in your entire life, probably the uncoolest anyone's ever been.

And you don't give a shit.

"Because I'm in love with you, you idiot!" you yell.

"Really?" He tries to make it sound skeptical, but his bangs are dripping rain, and there's a little crack in his voice, and between both those things, he doesn't remotely pull the skepticism off, and if you're not kissing him within the next ten seconds, you're going to die.

"Of course really! I love you, Sollux Captor. I love your lisp, and your fucking stupid hair, and how you remind me of a goddamn hedgehog in 3D glasses, and mostly I. Just. Love you."

Your audience murmurs, but they're nothing but white noise to you; all that matters is him, and how he's staring at you and the tension's cracking, not crumbling like last time when you were a goddamn idiot, more like he's trembling on the edge of believing, and he doesn't quite, but he wants to.

"So," you say, and the trembling's in your voice, too, somehow. "Would you. Come here? Please?"

And the tension cracks into light, into this totally goofy, sunny grin, one you've never seen before, still a shade of disbelief in it, but it doesn't matter because he drops the books and closes the distance between you, and you pull him into your arms, not even bothering to hold back the little relieved noise you make at how fucking good it feels to have him here again.

"Lother," he says, muffled against your neck. "You'll never get rid of me now."

"I never want to," you say. "Now shush. Only sloppy makeouts now."


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March 2014

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