Chapter Text
You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to do this at all. You so desperately don’t want to do this, in fact, that the mere thought of moving from this very spot makes you want to vomit.
“You promised.” Sollux whines, sliding his shades down his face just enough that you can get a good look at his pout. And you feel like the worst best friend ever for even considering bailing on him because you did promise.
On the other hand, if you can manage to actually vomit in the next three minutes you’ll be able to get out of this with your Good Best Friend cred still intact. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the nausea to produce results. Come on gastrointestinal system, you think, don’t let me down.
Your gastrointestinal system lets you down. No puke is forthcoming.
“Karkat.” Sollux is making hardcore eye contact now. He’s speaking in that intense almost-whisper that lets you know how serious he’s being without letting anyone else overhear. It's the sort of intense person-to-person communication that makes you feel itchy down to your bones. The faint burning sensation of human connection. “Karkat please. I can’t walk into that room on my own.”
You don’t mention the lisp, even though it makes you feel like your ears are bleeding. That’s how good of a bro you are.
“Fuck it, Sollux.” You hiss, “Can I just point out that we could be doing something way less painful? I was considering maybe killing myself this afternoon.”
“Karkat.”
“Sollux.”
“Karkat.”
“Sollu- No! Fuck you, I’m not playing this game and I’m not going in that room!”
“Yes you are. You have to.”
“I don’t have to do any single nutsucking thing you stupid, drooling, meatsack of a human being. I could stand in this hallway until the heat death of the universe. I could literally never move from this spot and eventually die from hunger, and they’ll have to bronze my corpse because even after my death I will still not have to do a single fucking thing. This is so beyond the realm of 'required of me' that it might actually be necessary for me to not do this. In fact, fuck this whole stupid idea in its gaping, bacteria-infested mouthole. I’m not going to do it. I am going to stay right fucking here with my own pansy-ass self for the rest of time immemorial. I am going to sit on my god-fucking-damned hands and not make any friends at all and be a social pariah for the rest of my time at this school. I cannot do this and I’m too much of a wet fucking pussy to join a club because people might think I’m gay! So fuck you!”
You realize that you have grabbed the lapels of his stupid twee blazer and are about to shake him. You also, slowly, realize that you did that thing again. The word-spewing insecurity thing.
You hate that thing.
“Um, KK.” Sollux says as he carefully pries your hands, finger-by-finger, from his clothing, “You are gay. You're really gay. Really, really--”
“Shut up! Jesus, someone might hear you!” You do not slap a hand over his mouth only because the last time you tried that trick he licked you.
“So this is pretty much why I think we need to go to this meeting.” Sollux says with an eyeroll. He's feeling exasperated. How dare he.
“Listen up douchenozzle.” You hiss as quietly as you can (which, in all honesty, isn’t that quiet), “I’m not closeted, I’m discrete. And for good fucking reasons.” You and Sollux have had this conversation before, numerous times. He says that you’re denying your true self, and you argue that your true self would prefer not to get the shit beaten out of it, thanks very much. “And anyway, I thought we were going to this meeting so you could put something progressive on your college applications.”
“That too.”
Ugh. It’s pretty freaking obvious to you that college applications are the last thing on Sollux’s mind. Not that you can be sure what he reasons really are, but you’re betting it has something to do with the increased chances of scoring some hot twink ass.
“They’re going to think we’re together.” You point out. Because maybe the fear of looking like your boyfriend will knock some sense into the retard.
“Then we’ll tell them we aren’t.” No dice. You’ve only got one weapon left in your arsenal. It is the fucking atom-bomb of emotional manipulation. The grandest of all tearjerkers.
You put on your best kicked-puppy-face. It is surprisingly similar to the way you normally look. “So maybe I don’t want to put myself in a position to get the shit beat out of me. Again. Did you ever think that? High school is a physically violent and emotionally damaging place. I'm already damaged dude, I will have literal fucking shitfit panic attacks if you make me go. ”
Sollux droops a little you almost think you’ve convinced him, “I don’t want you to think I’m not being sympathetic, KK. Because I was really worried about you, and what happened was kind of scary-”
Yes. Score one for blatant emotional manipulation.
“-but this club is here to prevent that shit. They're pretty well established and this school is way better than that fucking shitheap you were at last year. And I think you could use the support. Also I really, really, need someone to show up with so they don’t think I’m a weird loser.”
No. You sigh.
“You are a weird loser and I hate you.” You say. You don’t add ‘platonically’ because obviously your hate would be platonic. Is there any other way to hate someone? You don’t think so.
“We’re doing this.” Sollux says, grabbing you by the sleeve of your hoodie, and it appears as though you are because he is dragging you towards the small room that is home to the Alternia High Gay-Straight-Alliance.
You're making it happen. And there is nothing you can do about it.