Author's Note: Hello, friends and internet strangers! Just a quick few words before we get on with the story. First of all, it's post-game. Second of all, it's my first Homestuck pairing fic, so it might be total crap. Lastly, it's Davekat, which you probably already gathered, but there is possibility of the story progressing and a few other ships in the future, or else some relations with Dave and Karkat and others, in different quadrants. The primary relationship is an attempt at matespritship budding from past moriallegance/friendship, although it may turn into blackrom later on, depending on how I feel about it. Basically, this fanfiction could go anywhere. Also, I use these headcanons for everything: http://cancercarcino.dreamwidth.org/333.html and my fanfic Karkat had freckles. Shh, it's possible. Now, without futher ado, let's get on to the story.
Chapter one
This had to be the place. To Karkat Vantas, it was so blatantly obvious, the fact may well have been printed out on the facade of the club: 'Dave Strider is strutting about, fuckin' around, and being an arrogant, primitive, dickwad prick inside this building'. This was obvious, of course, because no other known entity could even begin to fathom an alias containing as much douchebaggery as DJ Stryde. He wouldn't even spell his last name without fucking it up and twisting it into the alias of an incompetant prick. Even Dave would think it lame, but he'd probably use it "ironically".
So Karkat had made his assumption, and proceeded to enter the club. He was inside a few minutes later, after a lengthly line and the grumble of "I know somebody inside". To be honest, hhad really not expected such statement to be affective, but there he was, inside, and not enjoying it one bit.
The club was busy and crowded, and people where pressed tightly to one another. Karkat cursed it for being so, not quietly, under his breath, but loudly and creatively as he entered. He took a few steps, until he was trapped, standing awkardly in a melee of bodies. He glanced about, uncertain, and stood on his toes in attemot to catch sight of the DJ. His efforts where in vain. However, few minutes passed until Dave made is presence even more apparent than before.
"Who's ready to get this party started?" shouted the blonde into the mic in a godly way. People screamed and yelled in his wake, but Karkat only frowned. Oh god, thought the troll comically, was he going to strip? What kind of club was this anyways? Karkat might actually enjoy this a bit more than he thought. But no, he was dissapointed once again as he watched Dave, who grinned, basking in the crowd for a moment, before changing the music to his own mix. The crowd screamed in a way that the nubby horned mutant considered similar to a bucket of ass-shits begging for their creator to shed his glory further apon them. That would not be an attractive vision at all, but Karkat could take that chance.
There was no way, Karkat decided, he would ever be able to get Dave's attention from here. Especially with the croud making such noise. While they may have wanted to get the party started, Vantas wanted it to end. As soon as possible. He was endlessly being shoved in all directions, between people jumping and grinding and yelling and laughing. He attempted to make his way through the crowd and towards the DJ, and at some point even yelled and waved his arms, but his actions dissapeared into the mix of screams and guestures.
This troll was, in no way, a social butterfly. All he really wanted was to go home. But then again, there was Dave, and he couldn't bear to turn back. Finally making it to Dave's cose proximity, he still was unable to make out Dave's features, or anything really, other than his figure glorified and illuminated by backlights, transforming him into a sillhouette. Karkat once again waved his arms, shouting, "Over here, you blind fucking shitsponge. You're eyesight is worse than Terezi if you can't see me flailing about like a writhing idiot over here!" What a nice way to greet an old friend. Darkat's high pitched, loud, and agressive voice was all too familiar. Dave, of course, knew that voice, and he put it all together as he caught a glipse of two nubby colourful horns. A few moments more of searching the crowd, and they made eye contact. Or Karkat assumed they did. He never knew with those shades.
