Just Your Average Book Night

Cigarettes and Strawberries

"I'd like for you to name just one, just one person in this entire goddamn school - this entire fucking planet - who would ever have the displeasure of falling in love with me."

Was he serious? Was he actually expecting you to answer that?

You'd been hanging around the back of the school after your daily classes, just relaxing against the wall, smoking and looking like the cool mother fucker that you are when this little ball of pent up rage came around the corner, crying. You'd ignored it, knowing well enough he'd just get mad and since he wiped them away fast enough, it was like they were never even there. Your conversation had gone the same way they normally do when for some fucked up reason you just had to go and ask why he was skipping class. It was normal for you since your teacher probably hadn't seen you show up to that class once all year and decided to stop caring. But for Karkat, Mr. I-Can't-Fail-And-Risk-Not-Going-To-College-And-Never-Getting-Out-Of-This-Godforsaken-Town, he never skipped. ((you better appreciate that nickname because it took forever and a decade to type))

He scowled at you, crossing his arms and claiming it to be none of your business. Normally you would just shrug it off and you very nearly did. But of course, your fucked up brain and fucked up prick-ness decided to completely screw up this pleasant conversation you were indulging with him. "'Ey, no need to get so up and arms. I was just wondering why. I mean, jeez, can't a guy be curious as to why someone as uptight about schedules as you would skip class to come back here and cry?"

He looked like he was going to punch you. You very nearly did it to yourself. What the hell, Strider? You asked yourself. Like, what? You'd just meant to shrug, and ask how he was, how did that translate into the very embodiment of insensitivity and ultimate prick-ness coming out of you in word vomit form? You remained still faced, however. You just watched him. Watched as his face started to fall from fury, to anger, to slight annoyance, and on and on until it rested on the saddest expression you've ever seen anybody pull off. Guilt tore at your abdomen as you watched in horror while he started to cry again. He did his best to cover up his hicupping sobs with angry words, no matter how hard his shoulders shook and no matter how many different streams of tears fell down his face and Jesus, you never realized how strong he was before.

"It's none of your goddamn business, like I said. But I just got fucking rejected. Again. But this time, instead of just simply saying, "I don't like you like that," no, this asshole had to make an entire show out of it and invite nearly every single one of those fuckers she calls friends to humiliate me. Not only that, but kiss her girlfriend in front of me to turn me down." He'd collapsed to the ground at this point and you were struggling with yourself whether or not to sit down with him and attempt to comfort him or just remain standing. You stick with the latter and just wait. Watch. You knew instantly who he was talking about. You were wondering who the poor sap was that was going to have to endure such a terrible and cruel prank by the hands of none other than Terezi herself. You just never thought it would be Karkat. Who'd want to do that to him of all people? Sure, he could be bitchy and cranky and an overall nusience((screw you, i know i can't spell)) at times but that was just part of his charm. He, in your words, "angrily cares about everyone." Even you. Which is exactly why you feel even more like shit about this entire situation.

"Ah. . . T-that's gotta hurt bro." you mumbled out, loud enough for him to hear. You deemed this an inappropriate time to continue your smoking, so you simply drop it into the grass and dig your heel into it. "But," you paused thinking of what you could possibly say to ease off some of his pain. "I'm sure you'll find somebody else soon. You shouldn't even stress about this." You said. Apparently, you'd just reminded him of his anger tendencies because he pauses in his sobs. He wiped away some of his tears with his large, over-sized sweater (in the middle of May? Really dude?) and stood up. He glared at you and kept his fists balled up at his sides. You very nearly sighed of relief; if he could still be mad at you that meant you hadn't totally broken him.

Until you heard him start talking again. . .

"Oh, sure. Yeah, everyone will just be lining up for a piece of shit like me! Face it, Strider. I don't think there's anyone out there who could deal with me." He said. He'd started out with so much anger and sarcasm, but it faded all too quickly into that soft and quietly glum voice he'd used when he was trying to be strong through his tears.

"Yeah, there is." You insisted calmly, trying to keep your cool and not yell at him for being so stupid.

"I'd like for you to name just one, just one person in this entire goddamn school - this entire fucking planet - who would ever have the displeasure of falling in love with me."

You glare at him from behind your shades, probably looking pretty damn scary judging by the way he slightly flinched. You lean forward, getting into his personal space. He stands his ground, crossing his arms and scowling harshly at you. You will likely later blame this on the heat of the moment or maybe just the desire to prove him wrong, but you launch yourself forward and kiss him. You kiss him right on those delicate little lips of his that you - hey, surprise, surprise! - have wanted to kiss for close to a year.

You watch with half lidded eyes as his open wide with shock. Satisfied with that as a reaction, you're about to pull away with the intentions of patting him on the head and walking away before finding a safe broom closet to flip the fuck out inside, when all of your plans just get demolished.

He kisses you back.

Cue your eyes widening at this phenomenon. His own eyelids are now screwed shut as he kisses you back forcefully. He wraps his hands around your neck and - oh god, why hadn't you done this before? He was such a good kisser you wondered how many people he had to have kissed to get this good. But that doesn't really matter right now because now it's you. You kiss back again, gently placing your hands on his hips like their made of already partially shattered glass that you do not want to break.

He wrenches himself off of you after a good minute or so of sloppy make outs. You smile contentedly at him, panting harshly. He grins up at you before he replaces it with a disgusted face.

"Ugh, you taste like cigarettes." he growls. You chuckle and peck his cheek.

"And you taste like strawberries."

I just wanted this up and done, so here it is!!

Beddy Bye, Boos. Bea's Buzzin Off to Sleep