4 rules | karlnap

chapter 1

Karl likes to think he's a pretty chill guy, apart from the fact he's gay, he doesn't really have a type. When people ask, he shrugs his shoulders and smiles, not too concerned about it. When the right person comes, Karl is certain he will know, so why does he need a set in stone type?

But when George makes a stupid, lighthearted comment about him being willing to smash whatever he can get, Karl seethes and decides he does in fact have a type, and he will write it down, now. The problem is both of them are extremely drunk, have been for a while, so when Karl finally finds a piece of paper and a crayon, his writing is barely legible.

"I have a type," He mutters softly because George deserves to be proven wrong, his pretty privilege won't get him out of this one.

Karl's Perfect Boyfriend, he writes messily at the top of the paper, in bright purple crayon. It's barely legible, but Karl is proud of it to no end, and he holds up his crayon after writing the first point with great confidence.

1. Taller than me

Karl looks smugly at George. "So you don't count."

George rolls his eyes, biting his lip as he lays on the floor. Karl isn't even that tall, 5'11, he thinks, but since George is shorter than him, it's too golden to miss out on a short joke every once in a while.

Karl hums softly to himself. He doesn't really know what to write, but a quick glance at his half-empty monster can from hours before they started drinking tells him enough.

2. He has to buy me a lot of monsters

"That so doesn't count," George says indignantly, "You need something else, like his personality or something"

Karl rolls his eyes. "Monster is important." Nevertheless, he adds another point under his second.

3. He's smart

And after a moment, Karl adds another two words.

3. He's smart and nice

Karl looks over to see George snoozing on the bed. He sighs before heaving the man up onto their shared couch, much too lazy to drag him over to his room. He watches for a moment as George almost falls off the bed, then sighs and heads towards the counter.

Karl stares at the stupid piece of paper then sits back down to finish it. It's stupid, and he knows it, but he'll probably, no definitely, lose it before he wakes up the next morning, so what harm could it do?

He supposes he should probably add something looks-wise, and even though Karl claims he doesn't mind appearances, he does have a certain look he tends to appreciate more.

4. Dark hair, dark eyes, and an eyebrow slit

He laughs at how stupid it sounds, a small missing piece of an eyebrow shouldn't be so attractive to him, but he always seems to stare whenever a guy walks past him with one. Karl decides, in the spur of the money, that it's a necessity, and if someone doesn't have it, he might as well do it to them himself. He underlines the words eyebrow slit and winces as his crayon snaps in half at the pressure.

Karl brings the paper up to his face, laughing while tilting his head side to side. He's absolutely gone at this point, and he throws the paper across the room, closing his eyes with soft, light giggles.

When he wakes up to a massive hangover, his legs hanging off the edge of the couch mindlessly, he remembers nothing off the night before after he and George got home. As he makes his way across the kitchen, making the laziest breakfast possible, George drags himself in as well, his foot kicking a loose paper on the ground.

"Karl's Perfect Boyfriend." George reads aloud, his voice managing to sound amused even though the man had clearly just woken up. Karl shoots his head up, frowning as he vaguely remembers writing those words. "Look at your handwriting!" George cackles, and Karl groans, barely reading through the list before pointedly shoving it under a pile of his calculus notes.

George stretches brings his arms up with him as if Karl wasn't absolutely humiliated, and Karl freezes. "George," He says hesitantly, "What's that on your neck?"

George moves his hand to his neck feeling for something. "It's not a hickey is it?" He asks frantically and Karl just wants to die right about now.

"No, it's not, What the honk, George?" Karl says, taking out a phone and snapping a picture of George's neck, closer to his collar bone.

He shows the picture to George and the man freezes, before sprinting to the bathroom, Karl laughing behind him.

"We were barely out last night, Jesus, George."

"I HAVE A FUCKING SMILEY FACE TATTOO KARL, HELP!"

Karl erupts into a fit of giggles and George regrets ever becoming friends with the loser he is forced to call his roommate.