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It was a dreary day, the aftermath of a storm passing over, apathetic to any destruction it had caused as it had rolled on by. The thunder continued bellowing overhead, its roar less intimidating than it was a distant comfort. Where the lightning had struck earlier, a shallow puddle of rainwater now rested. The storm had long since left, with the distant thunder and the puddles being all that remained. The thunder, the puddles, and the two trolls taking refuge in the safety of a once lonely hive. They did not touch, for the thought of what would happen if they did terrified them both. In fact, it was quite a while before either of them even chose to break the silence. But one did, and he broke it with an apology, as it seemed the most fitting thing to do in the stagnant discomfort that had fallen over them both.
“I’m so sorry.”
Eridan visibly perked up at the noise, though his sombre expression remained the same as it had looked when he first showed up to his friend’s hive hours ago.
“Sorry?” he questioned. “Why on Alternia would you be sorry? You didn’t do anything, Kar.” He received a head-shake in response.
“Exactly,” Karkat said. “I knew you two were having issues, I knew that for quite a long time. I guess I just figured that you’d both eventually sort it out somehow?” He pulled his legs up onto the couch as he spoke. “Not that it was your fault that you didn’t. I guess not being able to sort things out was the biggest problem you two had.”
“Hey now.” Karkat looked up. “It wasn’t your fault either, Kar. Don’t go blamin’ yourself for anyfin that happened between me and…” He trailed off, his fins falling limp beside his neck. Karkat continued looking at him, his face betraying the pity he felt for his friend.
“I never said I was blaming myself for jack shit.” Eridan laughed in response, though it was weak and polite, not at all a genuine expression of amusement. “I’m your friend, Kar. I’m pretty sure I can tell when you’re blaming yourself for “jack shit”.” He paused before adding, “You are makin’ it pretty easy to tell, y’know.” Karkat sighed.
“Okay. Okay, fine. I guess I am blaming myself, just a bit. I should’ve at least tried to help out in some way before it got this bad. Now look at you!” He gestured to where Eridan was slouched on the seat. “You’re washed up on my couch like some sort of derelict wreck on the shore of a neglected beach. Not one of those nice-looking, photogenic wrecks either. You are not at all the kind of wreck that even some hipster with their own shitty five-dollar camera from the bargain store and fifty fucking filters could make some angsty aesthetic image out of. I’m sorry for saying it, but you kind of look like shit.”
“I feel like shit too, actually,” Eridan added.
“It shows.” Eridan looked down at the ground, blowing some of the hair out of his eyes. He continued to avoid looking up, even when Karkat spoke again. “And that’s why I’m sorry.”
“Quit apologisin’, Kar. You’re just makin’ me feel worse.”
“Sorry,” Karkat said, before realising his mistake and beginning to stumble over his words. “Wait, fuck, I mean-” But he was cut off by the snicker that escaped from Eridan. “Okay, I’m goin’ to let that one slide. Only ‘cause it was kinda endearin’, though.” And that stopped all of Karkat’s thoughts right in their tracks. He found himself stuck between the small and genuine smile that had found its way on to Eridan’s face and the playfully affectionate comment he’d made towards him. He stared at Eridan for what seemed like a second too long before forcing himself to respond in whatever way came to his mind first.
“Endearing?”
The question quickly flustered Eridan for his own wording. They both looked away from each other at the same time, but if either of them had dared to look back, they would have noticed a hint of red, or of violet, present on the other’s cheeks.
However, they did not, and instead, the uncomfortable silence fell upon the conversation once again. It remained for a minute, or maybe for two. The specifics were not important, for to both of them it felt like an eternity.
“Could I stay here?” Eridan finally broke the silence, once he’d regained his composure.
“Of course. Why in the name of bloody hell would I kick you off of my couch?” Eridan laughed once again, though with a touch more restraint than last time. “No, no, I mean at your hive, Kar.” Despite his good spirits, his voice still quietened down as he neared the end of his question. Karkat didn’t respond for a good moment, a moment which Eridan took to be due to his disgust for the request. “Okay, now that I’ve actually asked that I realise how fuckin’ stupid it sounds. You don’t actually have to let me, I really don’t mind, so-”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“You can stay at my hive for today.” Before Eridan could thank him, he continued. “Tomorrow too, if that’s what you want. Fuck it, you can stay however long you want. What’s mine is yours and all that.” Eridan waited another second before responding, making sure Karkat was finished.
“You’re actually lettin’ me stay?”
“Of course. That’s what friends are for, aren’t they?” Karkat’s response was hasty, a fact that Eridan immediately picked up on, though he chose to consider it pessimistically. No point getting his hopes up for the unlikely.
“I guess so.”
And then the silence fell upon them for the third time that night. A feeling that was becoming more familiar each time it pressed down upon them. But behind the silence was another feeling, and it was a feeling that they were both coming to terms with. In the midst of that silence, as overbearing as it was, Karkat’s thoughts were growing louder. He drew his gaze over to Eridan once more. Still sombre. Still pensive. He wanted to see him smile again.
And so he hugged him.
It felt warmer than anything Eridan had felt before. Not physically, but emotionally, because that simple embrace was filled with more genuine compassion than any other touch in his life. That heat seeped through his skin straight into his heart, and erupted out of his eyes, flowing down his face in a silent show of emotion. Never before had he felt so safe.
He uttered three words to Karkat, barely more than a whisper. Karkat’s face morphed from confused regret to grateful comfort. Though he could not hear the words Eridan had spoken to him, his grin and his tone and the way his fins quickly perked up as he hugged him back- all of that said enough.
“I love you, too,” he responded.
The storm had passed. And it felt like a lifetime since it had shrouded the lands at all.