Karkat Vantas' Stri-Do's and Dont's of Highschool: A Davekat Fanfiction

Chapter 5: Practice Makes Perfect

You're beginning to regret every decision you've ever made. Okay, you may be exaggerating just a little, but not much. What you are specifically regretting is agreeing to join the cheer squad. Why did you allow this to be a thing that is happening again? Oh, that's right. Stridouche's indirect challenge he made when he touched your ass. How could you forget? You didn't forget. You will never forget all the indecency. It has been permanently fried into your thinkpan. But regardless of how or why, it is most definitely happening right this very moment. The sweaty meatheads groping each other on the field- no, excuse you. The football players tackling each other on the field are distracting you from what Kanaya is trying to tell you. "So I Have Finished Your Outfit. I Have It Here For You. Vriska Would Like You To Try It On And Join Us For Practice."
You grumble and take the bundle of clothes from her hands, heading towards the bathrooms. You strip and change into your new- No, absolutely not. This is ridiculous and degrading and there in no way you're going out there dressed like this. Your school's colors are fuchsia and violet. Mix that with a stupid glittery t-shirt and the shortest shorts you've ever seen with the schools logo on it. That is the ridiculousness you are forced to wear. You're about to change when you hear Dirk walk in, calling for you. You grumble and walk out, Dirk whistling with a smirk. "Look at you. Lookin' good. If I wasn't already set on someone I'd be flirting with you harder than my brother does."
You roll your eyes and flush "WHOS CAUGHT YOUR EYE?"
He motions for you to follow and you do so. He leads you back to the squad and points towards the field, "Number twenty-eight."
"ENGLISH?"
He shushes you and smacks your arm "Yes, Jake English. God, his accent is like heaven."
"I GUESS HES PRETTY CUTE."
"Hey! Can you two stop swooning for a second and get 8ack to practice?!" Vriska snaps, throwing a pom pom at the two of you. Dirk grabs your arm and leads you over to the group.
"LISTEN, IM NOT SURE I WANT TO-"
"Wwait. Don't tell me you're quittin already," Eridan frowns.
"What?! You can't quit! And you look so adorabubble in your uniform, Crabcatch!"
Roxy wraps her arms around your neck, hugging you tightly "You're gonna make such a cute addition to the group. You have to stay."
"It Is Karkat's Decision. We Cannot Force Him To Do Anything," Kanaya says, sounding disappointed herself.
You pry yourself from Roxy's grasp, "WOULD YOU NOOKSUCKERS RELAX? I NEVER SAID I WAS LEAVING. IM NOT SURE IM GOING TO BE GOOD AT THIS, BUT I AM SURE THAT SHORTS THIS SHORT SHOULDN'T BE LEGAL. DO I REALLY HAVE TO PARADE AROUND IN THESE?"
Kanaya pauses, then smiles, "Did You Not Say You Wanted Revenge?" You hesitate then nod, quirking an eyebrow suspiciously at her. She nods towards the field, "Look Who's Attention You Have Already Caught." You glance back and see none other than the very insufferable prick you despise so much looking your way. No, more like staring. You turn back to Kanaya, a small smirk playing on her lips, "So Is The Uniform To Your Liking?"
You stare at her in disbelief, "YOURE ONE SLICK MOTHER FUCKER, YOU KNOW THAT?"
She smiles, "Come Now, Karkat. I May Be A Lady, But I Still Know What Men Like. Though I Would Never Use Those Advantages For Myself."
Vriska groans, "Revenge is gr8 and all 8ut can we start now please????????"
Dirk nods in agreement. They teach you some basic cheers and moves. You do your best to keep up, and you do so enthusiastically. You can feel those shades piercing through your soul. Better sell it as much as possible, right? It was pretty tiring, but you got a break while you waited for the football team to finish so you could practice your half time routine. "So how was it for your first day?" Dirk asks as he sits beside you, handing you a water bottle.
You gulp half of it down before wiping your forehead and responding. "Not nearly as bad as I expected. Tiring, but it's not as excruciatingly humiliating as I thought it would be."
Dirk smiles at that, "You'll come to love it, I promise."
"HEY! HEADS UP!"
You turn your head towards the field and yelp, just barely catching a football flying at your head. Dirk's head snaps towards the field, "WHAT THE HELL?!" He growls, looking ready to tear someone's head off. You'll admit that it made you blush.
Dave walks over, "Shit. My bad. Wasn't aiming for you."
If that wasn't the most bullshit thing you've ever heard, you don't know what is. You stand and snarl at him, "AS FUCKING IF. WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM, BULGEMUNCH?"
He gives you an innocent look, "I have no problem. What's yours?"
"MY PROBLEM IS THAT YOURE THE MOST INSUFFERABLE DOUCHEBAG TO EVER EXIST, YOU HAVE THE WORST EGO COMPLEX IVE EVER SEEN, AND YOU DONT KNOW HOW TO KEEP YOUR DISGUSTING HANDS TO YOURSELF."
This only makes him smirk, "I love when you talk like that. So cute." You throw a string of curses at him as Dirk pulls you onto the field. As soon as Dave's back is turned, you launch the football right at the back of his head, giving a triumphant grin as it nails him exactly where you wanted it to. He turns around and shoots you a look, rubbing his new injury as you flash him an innocent smile. He stares a moment before cracking a smile, chuckling and shaking his head, "Nice shot."
Your smile drops and you blink in confusion. Thats not at all how you expected that to go. He didn't sound mad at all. Not even cocky. He said it in a way that almost sounded...playful? But not in the usual 'playful' way he spoke to you. It was almost endearing to hear him talk to you like that. Maybe Dirk was right. Maybe he wasn't as bad as you first thought. You mull this over as you learn half time and run through it a few times.
When you finish, you walk back to the sidelines and finish the rest of your water as the team returns to the field. Dave sits on the bench next to you, "Hey, you guys looked pretty good out there for your first run."
Okay now youre beyond confused. How in the hell does this prick go from one hundred to zero on the douchemeter in mere seconds? It simply baffles you. Maybe that football to the head knocked some sense into him. You glance over at him, quirking an eyebrow, "ARE YOU PERHAPS BIPOLAR? BECAUSE I COULD'VE SWORN YOU HATED ME TEN MINUTES AGO."
He shrugs, "Yeah, but you've got some balls to stand up to me. To actually stand up for yourself. I admire that. Sure it was all meant to be flirty good fun, but you didn't seem to catch on. All that and you can throw. You can color me impressed. Also, throwing that football at you was a pretty low blow and I actually feel kinda bad for that."
You're even more confused than you were. Did he just apologize? "STRIDER, WHAT EXACTLY DO YOU WANT FROM ME?"
"Truthfully? Friendship, as ridiculous as that sounds. I know I don't really deserve it at this point, and I know I'm probably blowing your mind with my whole personality switch. This is going to make me sound like a really shitty person, but I have a rep to uphold, y'know? At first, yeah, I was just doing it to look cool, but I don't think I ever had the intention of hurting you. I'm pretty sure I didn't insult you at all, did I?"
You stop and mentally slap yourself. Never once did he insult you. Sure he had a million nicknames for you, but they were never rude or degrading. In fact, even from the start, you were the one who insulted him, and you've been spewing out insults like a broken faucet ever since. You feel like a complete idiot. If anything, it was you who didn't deserve his friendship. You didn't even deserve an apology.
He continued anyways, "I mean if my brother took a liking to you then you've definitely gotta be worth it. But then again I kinda knew that already," he stops, seeing how lost in thought you are, "Fuck, I'm rambling, aren't I?" He glances from you to the field and back, "Listen, would you maybe want to go get something to eat so I can better explain myself?" He's right. Your mind has been blown. You have absolutely no idea what do say or do, but if he's willing to give you a chance after all you've said, you can surely at least hear him out. You nod and he smiles. A genuine smile. It does weird things to your chest. He stands and grabs his bag, "Just give me a second to change and we can go." You nod again and watch him jog off to the locker rooms, completely dumbfounded. You're beginning to wonder what the hell you got yourself into.