Red [A Karezi Fanfic]

My Boy

Karkat: Respect your father. karkat: you fool.

"Seatbelt." Kendrick called, side-eyeing Karkat as he took his seat in the passenger side. The boy let out a huff, crossing his arms and looking anywhere but at his father-but-not-father. 

"Fuck seatbelts." At that the older mans face scrunched up a bit, taking note that maybe he should not get the teenager an extra mcFlurry with that attitude. Sometimes he sounded like Kankri and it freaked him out. 

As for the youngest of the Vantas family? He didn't want to be in this car, but in the spur of the moment he agreed because there was that sliver of  hope for a desperate man. Unfortunately all consideration was then flung out the window after setting foot in this old Honda with the comfy seats that Karkat threw up on when he was 4 because he ate dog food after getting dared by that one snarky girl with glasses. For some reason, one that he can't seem to put his tongue on, that girl had been haunting Karkat's life quietly for as long as he could remember. He just wished he at least had a name to go along with. 

Anyways, Kendrick, yes. Karkat was fuming. But not fuming. Rather, too many emotions rattled his chest that he would prefer to just rip his own heart out or shut off his head for one damn second. He wanted to hate the man beside him,  he really did, but he couldn't. As in mentally-whatever- couldn't, you shallow asshole. It's not because the boy secretly wanted validation or something. It was not  that. Something in him was pushing him to try, try to accept this sorry excuse of an apology but whatever move he did to counter this newfound urge was useless. It was killing him.  He was lost maybe? 

-

"Don't go crying to me if you knock your head up on the dashboard." The man sighed, starting the car with a loud gurgle of an engine. Hell, he hates this car. The boy beside him didn't seem to take notice, and was glaring holes through the passenger seat window. Just like his wife, Kendrick could never pinpoint his sons mood swings or temper, it could've been amusing, but by now it was downright tiring. Whatever, he was going to get through this whether his son liked it or not. 

Kendrick had a vague plan as to how the day was going to span out, at least until Karkat decided he was done for today. In fact, right now, said boy was that of a ticking bomb waiting to explode. He just wished that he could tiptoe around his son successfully, and try to win his trust back. 

"McDonalds will be a bit delayed, we're taking a little pit stop." The man told the other beside him, who was radiating irritation. Karkat grunted in response and Kendrick seemed to sigh once they reached a stoplight, hand reaching the radio. He scrolled through the stations aimlessly, hearing snippets of pop music or acoustic covers, before falling on one channel that merely brought a sly grin to his face. 

"...you're listening to the country music station..." The radio host went on, a guitar riff playing in the background. Kendrick let out a snort as his son whipped his head around. 

Watching him out of the corner of his eye was amusing, as the boy wasn't sure if he would risk dropping a wall of defense just to call out the awful music taste. So Karkat just sat there with his arms crossed, staring at the radio as if maybe if he glared hard enough, the contraption would blow up entirely. No such luck, as a husky man with his guitar melody started ringing through the car, and the light turned green. 

"What, don't like country?" The woman perks to the little child at her side, his limbs flailing around in the baby seat. She had a hand on top of his harness protectively, which also seemed to pose as a gentle touch to calm the child. From the front seat, Kendrick laughed, turning a corner smoothly.