"Hey, Dave?" John asks as he clings to your arm, his head resting on your shoulder.
"Yeah?" You reply dully, your fingers drumming on your desk in study hall as you peruse Instagram, waiting impatiently as always for a message from Karkat. As usual, you receive nothing.
"You seem pretty distracted lately. Are you okay?" The concern in his voice is evident, but for some reason, it doesn't bother you in the slightest. What's bothering you is Karkat's constant absence. No one has replied to you in over a month since the night that Karkat told you to leave him alone for good. You're not sure if he's just ignoring you or if he's done something horrible to himself. Either way, you want to know. No, you need to know, and, at the moment, John is the only thing distracting you.
"I'm fine." The lie comes naturally; almost as naturally as if it were the truth. If under any other circumstances, your ability to lie so easily would startle you. These, however, are not those circumstances.
"There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about, but it's something sort of personal. I was wondering if maybe I could come to your place after school," John continues, nervously picking at his nails.
You simply hum in response, pausing a moment before you comment, "You don't have a note. They won't let you come on my bus without one."
He looks crestfallen for a moment. Then, he chimes, "We could walk?"
Most of you wants to object, but he gives you the puppy dog eyes that he always does when he wants you to cave. He knows it's your kryptonite, and, as he surely expected, you give in as the bell rings. "Fine," you sigh softly, standing and slinging your bag over your shoulder.
John is at your side in an instant, his arm hooked with yours as the two of you make your way through the crowd of teenagers and out the front doors. "Good! I've been thinking about this a lot, but I was never sure how to go about it. You know... Telling you and all..."
You hum in agreement and pretend to listen while he talks. Every once in a while, you'll glance down at your phone to check for messages. Unfortunately, it's in vain. It doesn't take long to get to your house. Perhaps it's due to the fact that you were so lost in thought, or perhaps it's because your focus was on your phone and not on where you were going. Regardless, your body moved on autopilot right to your front door. John releases his grip on you long enough for you to open the door before he grabs your hand and drags you to your room. You'd barely had time to kick the door shut.
"What's the rush?" You ask, tripping over your own feet as you follow him, plopping down on your bed.
"I just don't want my nerves to get the best of me. I don't want to back out," John says shyly, shuffling his feet in front of you.
Quirking an eyebrow, you lean back and ask, "Back out of what?"
He opens his mouth to speak, but seems to think better of it as he moves to sit on your lap, instead replying by pressing his lips firmly to yours. It takes you a moment to respond, but you begin to grasp the idea and kiss back as he takes your hands and places them on his upper thighs. Before you know it, he's tugging off your shirt and leading you to do the same to his own. This forces you to break apart, which in turn gives you enough time to ask, "Are we gonna fuck?"
By now, John's face is bright red, his glasses slightly fogged from the heat. "That was the idea..." He then quickly adds, "We don't have to if you don't want to."
You shake your head. "It's fine. I mean, I want to if you do. I just have to get something first and check to make sure Bro won't be home for a while."
John nods and moves off of your lap, instead sitting on the bed. "Good idea. I'll wait here."
Pushing yourself up, you hurry out of your room and rush to your brother's room. As you search through his nightstand, you shoot him a quick text and ask when he'll be home. You then grab what you were looking for and stick it in your pocket as you head to the bathroom to brush your teeth and check your reflection. Your phone buzzes about halfway through with a reply from your brother. He informs you that he'll be home in a little over an hour, which you thank your lucky stars for. Your phone makes its way back to your pocket as you rinse your toothbrush and hurry back to your room. The sight you're greeted with upon arrival both excites and terrifies you.
John is sitting at your computer in his boxers. On the screen is Karkat's image. He must've video called you while you were gone. They're both glaring at you, which makes you swallow thickly. It takes a moment, but you eventually find your voice, clearing your throat before speaking up. "What's going on here?"
"Who is this?" John snaps irritably, pointing to Karkat.
You search for the right words, but they seem to evade you. "It's... It's a long story..." You decide is the best answer to go with.
"A long story, huh? I don't see what could take so long to explain. You've been messaging this guy for weeks practically begging for him to talk to you. Meanwhile, I was trying to do the same exact thing with you. Is he why you've been ignoring me? Because you wanted his attention instead of mine?"
"It's not like that!" You quickly defend. "I was worried something had happened to him."
John scoffs. "I'm sure. How did you two meet?"
"He joined my depression club," Karkat chimes in, his eyes narrowed at you. You can tell by the heartbroken look on John's face that it's all over.
"How long have you been depressed for?" He questions, his voice weak and heavily strained.
You sigh in defeat. "I'm not that depressed. I was just trying to help them."
"How many times have you cut since we last spoke?" Karkat muses, a cold, bitter tone to his words.
John's eyes widen in shock. "You cut, too?"
"Only once!" You insist.
He purses his lips and stands, redressing himself. "I can't believe this is the first I'm hearing all of this..."
"I'm sorry! I didn't know how to tell you! John, please don't go," you plead, grabbing his arm as he walks past.
Glancing back at you, he frowns and pulls his arm away. "I'm supposed to be your boyfriend, Dave. But, first and foremost, I'm supposed to be your best friend. The fact that you'd hide something like this from me just shows me that you either aren't ready to be in a relationship with me, that you don't trust me enough to tell me these things, or that you don't love me like I thought you did. I'm sorry, Dave. I just thought I meant more to you than this." You don't get another chance to speak before he leaves and closes your door behind him. You listen helplessly as his footsteps fade down the hall and to the front door, which slams shut behind him as he goes.
It takes you a moment to force yourself to move. You first lock your door, then moving to close the blinds before finally sinking into your desk chair, facing the monitor where Karkat has been patiently waiting. You pull your phone and the condom you'd grabbed from your brother's room from out of your pocket and toss them on your bed. Neither you or Karkat say a single word, your eyes boring into the other's as you silently stare.
Karkat is the first to speak, breaking the silence by noting, "My intention wasn't to ruin your relationship."
"I know," you tell him.
"My intention was to call you and tell you to leave me alone."
"I know."
"I'm sorry."
"I know."
"Are you okay?"
"I'll live."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
Silence.
"Do you still have that razor?"
"Yeah."
"Why don't you go get it? I'll wait here."
You nod meekly and leave your room, making your way to the front door where you'd left your shoes and book bag. You dig around until you found the blade, returning to your room and locking the door before sitting down again. "Are you going to teach me the right way to cut?" You ask in a monotone voice.
Karkat smiles sympathetically and nods. "Sure." He then shuffles around until he finds his own blade. Glancing up at you, he shows it off, allowing the dull metal to glint off the light from the computer monitor. "Let's get started, shall we?"