Really, it's not your place to be suspicious. Karkat is your cell mate and nothing more. Wow, even thinking about that hurts you. Well, you suppose it doesn't really matter how you're feeling. Karkat seems to be adjusting well to prison life.
Except maybe for the fact that for the past two weeks he's been slipping into the janitor's closet for at least a half hour before coming to your cell.
He doesn't honestly think you haven't noticed, does he?
Oh, that's right.
He doesn't know you've got the hots for him.
You digress.
Every night, you watch from your bunk, pretending to sleep as he walks out of the closet. Then, about ten minutes later, you watch as John slips out. You've caught Karkat with random scratches and bruises before, but you kept quiet. Damn is it hard to do that. You feel pretty betrayed, but as you said, no one is supposed to know. That is until one morning when you finally snap.
Karkat had been out particularly late the night before, so when he wakes up that morning, you're there waiting for him. He slowly blinks awake, yawning and stretching. When he finally notices you, he yelps and jumps, covering himself though he's fully clothed. Once he realizes who you are, he groans and tosses off the blankets. "Jesus, you scared the shit out of me," he grumbles as he stands, getting ready for his day.
"Where were you last night?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest in a motherly fashion and ignoring his previous comment.
He glances up at you, frowning. "Since when did you become my guard?"
"Since we became friends. Tell me where you were. I'll know if you're lying," you retort, tapping your foot impatiently.
Karkat turns around to face you, placing his hands on his hips. "I was with John."
"I know. Where were you?"
"The rec room," he replies simply.
"You're full of shit. What were you doing in the supply closet?" You snap. His eyes widen a bit as he grows quiet. "Don't clam up on me now. You're not good with hiding those hickies."
He rolls his eyes, dropping his arms to his sides. "Fine. You caught me. Me and Egbert are fucking, okay? Cat's out of the fucking bag. Happy?"
"No, I'm not," you growl, feeling the anger rise inside you.
"Cry me a fucking river then. Grow up. Sorry that I'm stealing your friend away, but he's a big boy and so am I. We can make our own decisions. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go see him now since apparently we're no longer sneaking around." He pushes past you, leaving the cell. A big part of you wants to reach out to him, but you refuse to move a muscle.

~

You walk into the library about an hour after lunch, which you had skipped. As you suspected, you found Karkat on the couch reading a book. You plop down beside him, your hand behind your back. "What do you want?" He grumbles without looking at you, flipping a page in his novel.
You hold out a Kitkat bar, frowning. "I'm sorry for trying to govern your life. I just worry. You're my friend and prison is a harsh place. John's a good guy, I just... I don't know that what he feels for you is love. I think it's just a fling. I mean are you two official? Has he said he loves you or anything?"
Now he looks up at you, frowning a bit. "Well I mean... No, but... Sometimes flings turn into love, don't they?"
You shrug. "I personally haven't seen it. I just want you to think about what you're doing so you don't get hurt, okay? Maybe he does love you. If so, I'm happy for you. If not, I'm sorry."
He hesitantly takes the Kitkat from you, opening it and splitting it in half. He hands one half to you, offering you a small smile. "Thank you."
You smile, taking a bite and nodding. "What are friends for?"

~

As another two weeks fly by, you've been busy teaching Karkat the inner workings of what you do. You've taught him how to fix faulty wires, the washing machines, the tv, and the intercom. He's always done his best and paid careful attention to your lessons, but most of the time, he sits in the shop with you as he reads a novel while you work on trinkets.
You often have deep conversations, though you tend to switch gears when the conversation sways to John. According to the Latino, he still hasn't spoken with him about his feelings. You try not to push him too hard. You're also not sure if you want John to reject him or confess. Karkat's feelings mean a great deal to you, so it isn't particularly in your best interest to hurt him. All you want is for him to be happy. If he's happy fucking John, then you guess you'll have to join Terezi in coping.
Speaking of which, it also seems that she's caught wind of the affair. She's seemed so downhearted since she broke things off with Vriska, who's seemingly taken an interest in a black girl named Meenah. Though she acts like she's head over heels for her, you can tell her heart isn't in it.
Over the past few days, you've been hard at work designing a wall decoration for Karkat. It's nothing special. Its just the letter "k" cursively engraved into a piece of silver heart shaped metal. You still think he'll love it anyway.
"Hey, Dave?" Karkat says after a long silence, both of you having been mesmerized by your work.
You pause momentarily to look up at him. "Yeah?"
He's quiet a moment and looks ready to dismiss it all together, but instead, he clears his throat, looking down at his book as he asks, "I know you don't really like talking about it, but... What do I do if John just wants to be friends with benefits?"
You contemplate that for a moment before you ask your own question, "Do you want a friend with benefits? Or do you want something more? I suppose it's more a matter of 'is it worth it to keep being friends or are you willing to sacrifice a part of that for lust?'"
Karkat winces and shrugs, closing the book and playing with his sleeve. "I want a real relationship. I'm not looking to be a fuck buddy..."
"Then I guess that answers your question," you respond with a shrug, ready to get back to work when he speaks up again.
"You'll help me through it though, won't you?" He sounds nervous, maybe even timid.
You look back up at him and nod. "Anything for you."
He smiles softly. "Thanks. You're a good friend." As he returns to his book, you sigh to yourself as you replay his words over in your head. You're a good friend. Maybe that's all you'll ever be.