literature

It's 6:00 AM. Karkat x Reader

Deviation Actions

Published: Feb 4, 2014

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Literature Text

It's two o'clock in the goddamn morning, and the bar is oddly quiet. The douche nozzles that came there as regular customers had all stumbled out an hour before, hanging onto the shoulders of their friends as if they were a fucking lifeline. That left you standing behind the bar, alone. And normally you would be happy about that. Before, the peace and quiet would be a welcome relief, your ears sorely needing it after six hours of listening to the obnoxious laughter and slurred words of drunken idiots as they attempted to flirt with each other. Tonight, though, you would gladly listen to whatever bullshit pick-up line or shitty joke they had to offer. You wouldn't even grumble about cleaning up after some shit-sponge who had had one too many.

Anything... anything was welcome but this quiet, this eerie stillness that threatened to drive you bat shit up the fucking belfry. As if the ache in your heart wasn't doing a good enough job of that already.

"Fuck my life," you grumble, reaching underneath the counter and retrieving a wet cloth. You wipe down the already spotless bar, the shiny brown wood revealing to you your reflection. Your spiky brown locks are even messier than usual, greasy from the past few days when you had foregone showering, the lure of laying on your bed wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets while you wallowed in your misery and self-pity too powerful. There are bruise-like shadows underneath your dark eyes, damning evidence as to your inability to sleep. Your skin is pale, any tan that the cruel, unforgiving sun of Afghanistan had given you during your years in the army long gone.

"Fuck my life." You scowl, smacking the cloth against the counter. The sickening slap it made as it came into contact with the wood fueled your anger, though God only knows why. The scowl became more pronounced, and you slam your fists down on the counter, shouting, the words tumbling out of your mouth obscene, colorful. You curse yourself for being such a fuck-up, for being away in the army too long. You curse Terezi for being such a whore, for cheating on you with Gamzee, your supposed best friend. You curse the bomb that killed nearly half of your squad, for giving you not only an iron knee, but an honorable discharge and a goddamn purple heart.

You curse anything and everyone, and nearly twenty minutes have gone by before you are sufficiently calmed down. When you are, you open your eyes - when had you fucking closed them? - and look up, coming face-to-face with someone that you haven't seen since your high school graduation ceremony.

"[N...Name]?" you ask, your voice expressing the disbelief that you felt.

"Long time no see, Kit Kat." [Name] smiles, revealing two rows of pearly white teeth that are perfectly straight. It makes you even more self-conscious than usual about your own, which are crooked, sharp, coffee-stained, and so entirely fucked up that not even a thousand dentists could fix them. Well, at least you are taller.

"What...what the flying shit are you doing here, [Name]?" It's all you can say, as stunned as you are. It had been almost seven years since you had last seen or heard from the other man. Seven years of not knowing how he was doing, whether he was alive or dead. Seven years of...fuck. Seven years of fucking waiting for a damned phone call, text message, email, letter, anything. Seven years, and now here he was, standing before you in the flesh, dressed in an expensive tuxedo that was probably imported from somewhere in Europe.

"I came to see you!" [Name] said, his grin growing wider. "I haven't seen you in forever!"

Your scowl from earlier returns, and you clench your hands into fists at your sides. "And who's fucking fault is that?" you hiss, your voice sharp, bitter, filled with accusations and all of the hurt that came with them. It makes [Name] flinch, and the smile on his face to disappear. He takes a step back, heading towards the door, and no no don't go you didn't mean it fuckdammit please don't leave [Name] you didn't mean it you...

"Shh...don't cry, Kit Kat," [Name] says quietly, reaching up to brush something away from your cheek. You're startled, and you realize with embarrassment that you're crying. Sobbing, actually, and somewhere in the back of your mind you are wondering when [Name] had joined you behind the bar, and when you had started clinging to him as a small child would their father's pant leg.

"I...I'm sorry," you say over and over again, hugging him close. "I...I'm so sorry."

"Sssh...there's nothing for you to be sorry about. I'm the one who should be sorry." He strokes your hair, murmuring apologies for his absence, explaining why he had been gone so long, why he hadn't tried to get in touch. He tells you, in a moment of bravery, about his feelings for you, how he couldn't stand to watch you fawn over Terezi any longer. How he, selfishly, had to get away, had to leave, how once he had heard that you had been injured he had rushed back as fast as he could. He explains how crushed he had been to find that you had moved off, and how he had spent several months trying to find you because no one would tell him anything.

He explains how it was merely by chance that he had found you, here, of all places. His mother had gotten remarried to some douche, and in an attempt to get away from them he had gone for a walk. He tells you how excited he had been when, out of the corner of his eye, he had spotted you inside the bar. He explains how you had just started ranting when he had walked in, how he had heard everything, how- You stop him right there.

"Jesus fucking Christ, [Name]," you mumble, nuzzling his hair. "Shut the flying fuck up."

He laughs, a blush warming his cheeks. "Make me," he says, and gasps when you do just that.

The kiss is pretty shitty as first kisses go. It's toothy, sloppy, and your noses bump more than once. However, it's the best first kiss you've ever experienced, even better than the one you had shared with Terezi. It's filled with love, understanding, comfort, want, longing, everything that should be in a first kiss. If it was up to you, you would never end it. However, your lungs and the customer that is waiting, awkwardly, to be served in front of you don't care what you want, and reluctantly you break the kiss.

"Wait for me until it's time to close up?"

He nods, smiling. "Of course~" He squeezes you tight before walking back around the counter, settling himself in a stool. You quickly tend to the customer, and immediately walk back over to him once you're done.

"I take it your taste in movies is still shitty, so you're coming over to my place to watch some classics with me."

He laughs, shaking his head. "RomComs?"

"Of fucking course."

You both laugh at this, and the time flies by. It seems to you that it has been only a few minutes, when actually it's been four hours. You clean up the place and double check everything before closing, giving a brief, backward glance at the clock on the wall as you exit and head back to your duplex, a hand, smaller than your own, settled comfortably in it. You smile. It's six o'clock in the goddamn morning, and you, Karkat Vantas, are finally being loved.