another revealed truth

paternal care

trigger warnings listed in opening author's note

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karl rolls over in response to a soft knocking on his door, shifting to face the door as he waits silently for presumably george to enter. it's not like he can verbally grant access to the brunette.

the door pushes open after a moment, and karl sits up with the intention of waking himself up from whatever dream he's fallen into.

he doesn't wake up and, as the older man offers him a smile, he realises he's not dreaming in the first place.

karl flies out of bed so quickly that, over the last few days, it would usually make him faint. it doesn't though, and he doesn't even have to worry about the possibility of collapsing as he falls into his ex-foster dad's arms, the older man holding him so safely against his chest. karl thinks, in his dad's arms, he's entirely safe from the world.

he barely processes the fact that he's sobbing, loud and real, because the burning in his chest is so overpowering that it seems to be the only thing he can bring himself to focus on.

he's glad that george has kept him washed and dressed in clean clothes, because the brunette thinks he would've broken fully if schlatt had seen the state he was in before.

"i love you," he rasps out, each word scraping out his throat like sandpaper. it's the first time he's spoken since the start of winter break, which is evident in the croak of his words - which is only worsened by his crying.

"i love you more, kid," the older man whispers with a conviction so strong that it seems to wrecking-ball into the walls that karl has spent his last few weeks building up.

being referred to as a kid makes him feel like one, small and safe and hopeful for the future, secure in the strength of his dad's arms. karl's childhood didn't really start until he started living with schlatt, and he wishes he could wipe away all the memories from before then.

"george has gone out, i asked him to give us some space," schlatt speaks, his voice all-consuming from above karl, where he's tucked his head into the taller's neck. schlatt's chin is resting on the top of his head, and the gentle hand stroking his back is making him feel dopey. "i was going to take you out for a good meal, but i had second thoughts and realised that isn't what my boy would want."

karl melts a little, pressing his eyes impossibly tighter shut and feeling the warm glide of the tears that it forces from his eyes.

"i thought maybe i could cook something, or we can order if you want, and we could get out some art stuff, talk and doodle."

karl could technically talk right now -his urge to stay quiet was squished the moment he saw his dad- but he's so choked up that he can't manage it. he just nods, holding tighter for a few moments when he realises the older man is going to pull away.

the brunette has some paternal need to stay as close to the other man as humanly possible, so he feels admittedly a little distressed when schlatt goes to put food on and he's tasked with finishing them art stuff.

it doesn't take too long, because he still has stuff packed into a cardboard box from the last time he had been painting, but he has to throw in some of his cheap materials for his dad to use. schlatt has never been good at art, he's never even been interested, so karl knows it would be silly to waste his pricey things that he would struggle to replace.