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albapuella · 4 years

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How to Lose a Lover in 10 Days or Less: A Comprehensive Guide to Becoming a Future Romantic Failure (Chapter Three)

AO3

Fandom: Homestuck

Summary: How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days AU Dave needs to win a bet; Karkat needs to write an article. Shenanigans ensue.

Tags: Humanstuck, alternate universe - no sburb session, POV switches galore, implied/referenced child abuse Author’s note: This story is the result of a jam session I did with aceAdoxography on the davekat thirst federation discord server. This one's a little out of my usual wheelhouse, but I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. New chapters every Saturday/Sunday. Didn’t bother with the formatting this time: You want the fancy formatting, go to AO3 :D

Day 3:

Since Karkat had not managed to scare Dave off with the... outburst yesterday, he figured he’d hooked the idiot as well as he was ever going to. Which meant it was time to start fucking it up. He did his best to ignore the sense of loss already forming in his chest at the thought. Whatever frustrations he’d felt during that hang out/date thing Dave had put him through yesterday, he couldn’t deny that he’d enjoyed the experience, too.

Dave was a dork who talked too much, but he was also witty and charming in a maladroit sort of way. And it had been nice to have someone appreciate Karkat’s sense of humor in return. For once. A part of him wished he had longer to enjoy their time together, but he knew better.

Since he knew better, he also knew it wasn’t the time to mope. It was time to go on the full offensive. “Offensive” being the operative word. In this case, it meant acting like himself. Karkat had been on his best behavior up to this point, and now he’d show Dave who the “real him” really was. If he played his cards right, he probably wouldn’t even have to go on another date to seal the deal.

Karkat felt his eyes ache, and he hated himself for being such an idiot. He’d known this wasn’t going to last—even without his article, it never would have lasted. He’d already proven a countless number of times that, while a fairly good friend, he was simply terrible as a romantic partner. Dave was just one more guy he’d never really had a chance with. Just one more tally mark to add to his failures.

---

When Dave woke up the next day, he saw that he had quite a few messages waiting for him. A handful from Rose about wedding plans (with a reminder of the dress code, because of course her wedding would have a fully defined dress code). A bunch from his far-flung friend Jade (mostly telling a story which did not require more than a quick “cool” on his part). A couple from John (who was excited that he’d be seeing Dave at the wedding). There were also several from Karkat. Which was kind of a relief: Dave hadn’t liked that he’d been the first one to message him all the time: it made him feel like he was bugging the guy. Especially after waking him up yesterday.

CG: OKAY ASSHOLE, HERE’S THE DEAL:

CG: YOU WANT TO DATE THE REAL ME. FINE.

CG: I AM DONE BEING ON MY BEST BEHAVIOR.

CG: BE PREPARED FOR ME TO COMMENT ON EVERY INANITY THAT DRIBBLES FROM YOUR MOUTH LIKE THE LEAVINGS OF AN INCONTINENT PIGEON.

CG: YOU ARE NOT HALF AS FUNNY AS YOU THINK YOU ARE. ALSO YOUR “RAPS” ARE AN AFFRONT TO THE GENRE AS WELL AS TO THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

CG: IF YOU THINK I AM JOKING OR BEING “CUTE”, YOU ARE WRONG. A STATE YOU SHOULD BE EXTREMELY FAMILIAR WITH BECAUSE YOU ARE OBVIOUSLY SUFFERING FROM AT LEAST MODERATE BRAIN DAMAGE.

CG: I AM NOT NOR HAVE I EVER BEEN “A SNACK”. I ALSO DO NOT HAVE A “SEXY PROFESSOR THING GOING”. IN THE ENTIRE SPAN OF MY MISERABLE EXISTENCE, I HAVE NEVER BEEN ANYTHING WHICH COULD BE CONSIDERED TO BE IN EVEN THE MEAGEREST OF WAYS “SEXY”.

CG: MAYBE YOU WOULD BE ABLE TO SEE THAT FOR YOURSELF IF YOU EVER TOOK OFF THOSE DOUCHE SHADES YOU ARE ALWAYS WEARING.

CG: I HOPE YOU HAVE ENJOYED THIS SMALL TASTE OF WHAT IS TO COME IN YOUR FUTURE SHOULD YOU DECIDE TO KEEP DATING ME.

Dave read the messages a few times, frowning. Mostly, he felt confused, too confused to feel either amused or insulted. Sudden. This was sudden. Also, the more he read the messages, the more he thought Karkat was being more mean to himself than to Dave. His inner Rose (the voice which sounded like Rose but was not nearly as smart as the real thing) said that Karkat was lashing out, hoping to hurt Dave before Dave could hurt him.

And wasn’t that sad?

TG: first of all

TG: you are a total snack

TG: this is not negotiable

TG: do not pass go do not collect 200 dollars

TG: not to be all objectifying or whatever

TG: but that was literally the first thing i thought when i saw you

TG: that guy is a total snack

TG: and fuck you you are sexy

TG: i bet you look even better without the sweater

TG: you are the bank and im the debtor

TG: payin compliments is my cheddar

TG: need proof read the letter

TG: dear mr vantas you are hella sexy signed me

CG: OH MY GOD.

CG: THAT WAS THE PART YOU CHOSE TO FOCUS ON. I DO NOT UNDERSTAND YOU AT ALL. MOST PEOPLE DON’T LIKE BEING INSULTED. IS THIS A KINK FOR YOU? IS THAT WHAT THIS IS? ARE YOU A FUCKING MASOCHIST?

Dave was grinning so much his cheeks hurt. Nailed it.

TG: im not a masochist

TG: but i think i might be getting a thing for grumpy assholes

TG: it needs more testing

TG: how about we hang out for a few hours today

TG: and see

“CG is typing” appeared and disappeared several times.

CG: REALLY. YOU REALLY WANT TO KEEP DATING ME.

TG: yea unless you dont want to keep dating me

TG: i hope you do

TG: want to keep dating me

TG: i want to know you better

TG: and kiss you sometime

This time the “CG is typing” message went on for quite a while. Dave wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have sent that last message. Then again, he’d already called the guy sexy several times; saying he wanted to kiss him wasn’t weird.

CG: IF YOU’RE SURE YOU WANT TO KEEP DOING THIS, THEN FINE. OKAY. I THINK I WANT TO GET TO KNOW YOU BETTER TOO. JUST REMEMBER I GAVE YOU AMPLE WARNING OF WHAT THE REAL ME IS LIKE. WHEN I INEVITABLY END UP HURTING YOUR FEELINGS, YOU WILL HAVE NO ONE TO BLAME BUT YOURSELF.

TG: score

---

After, unwisely, agreeing to meet Dave at the park again before going to some secret secondary date destination he had in mind, Karkat slipped his phone into his pocket in a daze. He was still reeling. Where had he misjudged this situation? He’d been certain he’d done enough to scare Dave away, and yet, here he was with another date to prepare for. Masochism or brain damage—those were the only options. Considering how much Dave had insisted on Karkat’s attractiveness, he was leaning towards the latter.

Of course, the words alone were only half of the total package. Even Dave would find difficulty deriving whatever enjoyment he got out of Karkat’s insults when they were being delivered at an ear-ringing volume. Karkat heaved a deep sigh. All he had to do was be himself on this date. That had always been enough for every other person he’d dated to leave him. Dave would be no different: he was just dumber, so it was taking him longer to get with the program.

* Thinks I’m “sexy”. Definite brain damage. Probable masochist. Raps have not increased in quality but I’m starting to get used to them.

---

The problem was Dave knew what he liked to do, what he found fun, but he didn’t know Karkat well enough yet to have much of an idea of what Karkat liked to do. Usually, Dave would have just asked, but seeing as Karkat had just been prepared to be dumped, he didn’t think the question would go over well.

When Dave approached the YO this time, Karkat was already sitting on the bench. His head was bowed over his notepad, and he was furiously writing. Although tempted to look over his shoulder and see what he was doing, Dave decided not to. If it turned out to be something deeply personal, he’d feel like a creep.

Whatever it was held Karkat’s full attention. Dave could be very stealthy, but he wasn’t even trying to be quiet as he got closer. Finally, he was standing right beside where Karkat was sitting. Still nothing. Remembering the reaction he’d gotten the other day, he flopped down close to Karkat, making the other man jump. “Hey.”

Karkat brought his notepad up to his chest, hiding it, and glared. Despite his clear irritation and the roominess of the bench, he didn’t move away. “What the fuck, Dave? Are you incapable of conducting yourself like a normal person? Or am I just special?”

Dave grinned. Looked like Karkat had meant what he’d said about acting more like himself. “I don’t know, you are pretty special. Not in the Special Olympics way,” he hastened to add as he realized his compliment might not come across complimentary. “I mean, nothing against them, they’re great,” he continued, now realizing the actual insult he was now offering them and not wanting to be that guy, “but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

A sort of disbelieving half-smile. “Should I stop you now, or let you keep going?”

“Oh, definitely stop me,” Dave said, relieved. He gestured to the notepad Karkat was no longer holding so tightly against himself. “What are you working on?”

“Nothing important,” Karkat said brusquely, shoving the notepad into his bag as though it had personally offended him. “Something for my work.”

It occurred to Dave that he actually had no idea what Karkat did for a living. “What do you do?”

For a moment, Karkat only regarded him with deep suspicion. Then he sighed. “I write for Dubiously Cultured.” Apparently, Dave’s confusion showed on his face, for he elaborated, “It’s basically a gay Cosmo.” Then he frowned. “You know, a magazine with fashion tips? Make-up? Relationship advice?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Dave said quickly. The last thing he wanted was for his eyes to glaze over on his date like they did when Rose started talking about her magazine (whose title he could not recall at this moment if he’d been being held at gunpoint). “Are you writing an article? Laying down the keep your man tips for the masses?”

Even Karkat seemed surprised by the laughter abruptly bursting from him. “Something like that,” he said once he’d recovered. “You work as a DJ at the Glass, right?”

Honestly, Dave was shocked. He’d been sure Karkat had been just tuning him out! Then again, he had remembered he was from Texas, too. Maybe he just always looked bored and pissed off. “Yeah. It’s not super steady, but it pays the bills.” It actually didn’t pay the bills; Rose’s mom (his mom, she was also his mom) sent him money every month to pay for the apartment and various other expenses. However, his sad family history wasn’t exactly third date material. “You ever been?”

Karkat leveled Dave with a skeptical look which seemed to indicate his estimation of Dave’s intelligence had started low and was only getting lower. “Do I look like the kind of person that would get past a bouncer? Are you actually visually impaired, or are you making fun of me?” He shook his head. “I can see myself in the mirror, jackass; I know what I look like. Stop pretending I’m,” he held up his hands to make the finger quotes, ‘hot’.”

“I’m insulted you would think I’d lie about your hotness. You’re a fucking rooftop in the middle of a Texas summer. I should know; I’ve been there.” The metaphor stirred up memories Dave didn’t want to think about, and he wrapped an arm around Karkat’s shoulder. He immediately wished he’d done it sooner. “Anyway, I’ve already told you, you are a snack. You might as well accept it. It’s obvious. Everyone with eyes can see it. Not you, for some reason, but everyone else.”

“That’s just not true, Dave.” Before he could contest this, Karkat continued, “Most blind people still have eyes, idiot, and they can’t see anything, let alone support your dubious assertion that I’m attractive.” The words practically dripped with sarcasm even as he settled into Dave’s half-embrace. “You’re being so fucking insensitive right now.”

“Oh, shit, you’re right.” The part of Dave not worrying about the words flowing out of his mouth registered how nice and warm Karkat felt under his arm and pressed against his side. “Well, if they got to feel you up, they’d agree you were a snack, too. So, checkmate, Karkat. Check fucking mate. You’re just going to have to accept it. Majority vote. You’re a snack.”

Karkat looked up. “If you tell me you want to eat me, I’m leaving now and blocking your chumhandle.” Then his gaze shifted away. “This is nice,” he said, his voice softer than Dave had thought he was capable of. Maybe it was Dave’s burgeoning hearing loss, but he sounded… sad.

While Dave wanted to ask why he sounded so sad, he figured Karkat would tell him if he wanted him to know. After all, they still hadn’t known each other for very long yet. What was needed was a distraction, and Dave had just the thing to cheer both of them up. “If you think this is nice, you should be super excited for our date.”

---

Karkat had been feeling guilty again. It really had been nice, sitting on that bench in front of that giant art installation, to pretend that there was actually some sort of future for them. For him and Dave. Together. So, he’d been feeling guilty—even if he was an idiot who talked too much, Dave wasn’t a bad guy, and he didn’t deserve what Karkat planned on putting him through.

At least, that’s what Karkat had been thinking until they’d arrived at their final destination.

“A karaoke bar?” Karkat felt a scowl furrow his brow, and he turned it onto Dave, who had the audacity to be grinning at him. “It might interest you to know that I can’t fucking sing.”

Dave shrugged. “No one can at these places, Karkat. That’s why it’s fun.” He pushed his glasses down his nose, allowing Karkat the briefest glimpse of his eyes before he pushed them up again. “You’ve had fun before right? Or do we have to go slow and ease you into it, because fun is a hotel pool with a broken heater, and you haven’t raided the mini-bar yet.”

“Of course I know what fun is, you festering anal wart.” He saw himself ranting reflected in the lenses of Dave’s stupid glasses and looked away. “Fun is a walk in the park, or watching a movie, or going on a picnic, or playing a game. Fun is not embarrassing yourself in front of dozens of strangers by subjecting them to what can only laughingly be called your singing voice!” He started at the unexpected hand on his shoulder but made no move to shrug it off.

“Hey,” Dave said quietly, “if you really don’t want to be here, we can do something else. I don’t really know what you like yet outside of chick flicks. And writing for a magazine. And coming up with creative insults for me.” His grip on Karkat’s shoulder tightened slightly. “Help me out here, Karkat; I’m drowning with only seconds left to live. You’re the hot lifeguard, and I’m gonna need your sweet lips on mine fairly soon, or else I’m leaving the beach in a body bag. And no one wants that.”

Karkat turned back to face Dave. There were so many things to unpack in this latest offering of word vomit that he wasn’t even going to make the attempt. “Do you ever actually listen to the things you say?”

“I try not to,” Dave said blithely. “Messes with my flow.” Then the smile faded. “I mean it, though. If you want to go somewhere else, we totally can. I don’t have my heart set on this place; I just thought it’d be fun. Maybe you’d loosen up a little.”

“I am exactly as loose as I want to be,” Karkat sniped back, tacitly admitting that now he was the one saying stupid things. As much as he wanted to make things difficult for Dave for the sake of his article, he really couldn’t deny being touched that Dave was willing to change his plans because Karkat had complained about them.

Besides, while Karkat could be (and often was) loudly unpleasant and vulgar, it wasn’t the kind of thing he could force. He had to feel it. And he wasn’t feeling it. “No, we can stay. Just are there private rooms?”

Dave was frowning, perhaps in displeasure, perhaps in thought. “We can check.”

---

It turned out that there were private rooms, but they were prohibitively expensive. If this had been something Karkat had really wanted to do, Dave would have shelled out the cash, but he’d known he’d made the right call to spend the date elsewhere when he’d given Karkat the verdict and his shoulders had immediately relaxed.

Although Karkat had also protested that he wasn’t much better at bowling than he was at singing, he’d seemed less agitated about the prospect. He’d actually smiled a little when Dave had confided that he, too, wasn’t much of a bowler. Dave also wasn’t much of a drinker, but when Karkat offered to buy him a beer, he’d accepted it.

Dave was currently sipping his apple? flavored ale from the chair in their section of the alley and watching Karkat lob yet another ball down the gutter. This made, what? the tenth in a row? Dave had managed via blind luck to hit a strike with his first shot—a feat he had not been able to repeat—and that had pissed Karkat off like nothing else. Each additional failure to even get his ball any closer to hitting any of the pins only made Karkat’s face redder.

The only question was when he was going to pop.

“FUCK!” Karkat stomped back to the ball return. “FUCK ME, FUCK BOWLING, AND FUCK YOU, DAVE. YOU THINK YOU’RE BETTER THAN ME? NEWSFLASH, FUCK FACE, YOU ARE JUST AS OBJECTIVELY TERRIBLE AT THIS AS I AM—AT LEAST *I* HAVE THE FUCKING DECENCY TO BE ASHAMED OF MYSELF!”

Dave made absolutely no attempt to hold back his laughter.

“Hey, do you mind watching your language?” An older man in the next lane was giving Karkat quite an impressive glare. “There are kids present.”

Karkat’s face went purple.

---

“Well, Karkat,” Dave said as they walked down the street to no stated destination, his tone infuriatingly casual, “I can honestly say I’ve never been kicked out of a bowling alley before. I can scratch that off the old bucket list. It wasn’t on there because I hadn’t thought of it, but now I see I was blind to the possibilities. Thanks for opening my third eye or some shit like that.”

Karkat had let Dave put his stupid arm around his shoulders about a block back, and he hated the fact it felt so comforting. Bad enough he’d made an ass out of himself over nothing in public (again!), but it hadn’t even worked. He’d wanted to piss Dave off by showcasing his abhorrent personality, and he’d failed miserably. It wasn’t even his fault he’d failed either. For some inscrutible fucking reason, the idiot found temper tantrums hilarious to watch rather than embarrassing to be associated with. “Fuck you, Dave,” he said quietly, his energy quite spent.

Dave chuckled. Case in fucking point. “Aw come on, don’t be like that. It’s not like we’re banned from the place.” He paused. “I’m probably not going to get you to go there again anyway, am I?”

“I am never stepping foot back into that establishment, no.”

“Are you still pissed at me for that strike?” Dave’s voice sounded disbelieving. Maybe a little hurt. “I told you, man, it was a fluke. I wasn’t trying to hustle you. If I’d wanted to hustle you, there’d be money involved. That’s how that shit works. It’s like the definition of a hustle.”

Karkat sighed. “No, I’m not mad about that.” He hadn’t really been that mad about it in the bowling alley either. He’d just been frustrated. Loudly. Which was how he usually expressed his frustration. In the moment, it made him feel better… afterwards, he just felt tired. “I’m just really fucking embarrassed, okay? I know embarrassment is probably a foreign concept for you, but—”

Then he was being hugged. He tensed for a moment, then relaxed into it. He knew he shouldn’t be accepting Dave’s comfort, that this was only going to make things harder in the long run, but he couldn’t help himself. He really was such a selfish asshole. His head fell naturally against Dave’s shoulder, and he felt a distressingly familiar ache in his eyes. “Why are you hugging me?”

A soft guff of laughter blew past his ear. “Dude, you looked like you needed a hug. I’m not a hug expert or anything, but sometimes you look at a guy and think, that guy, he needs a hug.” The arms around him held him just a little tighter. “I hope you leave me a good review on yelp.”

Karkat choked on his unexpected laughter. “Dave. You are so fucking ridiculous.” As much as a part of him wanted to remain in his arms, he knew if he stayed any longer, he really would start crying. “Let go of me, asshole.”

Dave did so with only a moment’s hesitation. He put his hands on his hips. “So, what do you think?”

“About what?” Karkat successfully resisted the urge to wipe his eyes. With any luck, Dave wouldn’t notice how tear bright they probably were. Why was he getting so emotional anyway? None of this would matter soon enough.

“My review,” Dave said as though Karkat should have any idea what he was talking about. “Five out of five stars, right? Don’t crash my yelp score, dude—I have a reputation to maintain as hug master supreme; it’s all I have.”

And Karkat was laughing again. It really felt good.

---

* Gives nice hugs. Doesn’t respect personal space. Karaoke bar? Shitty bowler. Why isn’t this working?

---

{{ The third step is the ego. For Dr. Freud (famous psychology hack), the ego was a moderator. For our purposes, we return to the original Latin: I. Make it all about you and your comfort. If you have had enough of your short-term partner’s incessant prattle, say so. When you want to scream, do it at the top of your lungs. Use whatever language feels best to you at all times regardless of the situation. Make your short-term partner embarrassed to be associated with you. If you can get you and your short-term partner kicked out of an establishment due to your behavior, so much the better. However, if you find that such antics only serve to amuse your short-term partner, cease them immediately. The point of this exercise is to humiliate your short-term partner, not further endear you to them. Also, in the event that you are more embarrassed by your conduct than your short-term partner is, under no circumstances allow them to comfort you. It will only distract you from your objective. }}

#Homestuck #humanstuck #davekat #fan fic #my fic #wip

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