Chapter Text
Dave Strider is a man of many passions, life is a charcuterie of different flavors and there’s a never-ending list of everything he wants to try embedded in his heart. It’s raining when he steps into a Dance Studio and signs up like it was his purpose in life. It’s sunny and warm when he draws with his right hand to mess with a friend. Lightning strikes when he begins to write, drafting play after another. It’s hot as hell when he ‘slips’, falling several flights of stairs and obtaining a striped pattern of wounds, the pounding on his ears is a sick beat. A rhythm he catches sometimes when he talks, a melody he chases and follows him wherever he goes.
Without any plan or system, a sparkle is born and he finds himself indulging into another passion. The last isn’t forgotten but dims ever so slightly while he embraces his next fixation. It keeps happening, adding one after another in different combinations until one day, it goes different.
It’s hailing when he is messing with his camera and there’s something about it, about the sparkle he just captured for the first time. A lifetime isn’t enough to get a taste of everything he desires, be everything he desires. But what if.
What if he makes it come to him instead?
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It’s the unholy 20XX and Dave Strider is said to be many things. Obnoxious, eccentric, and hot as fuck (obviously), among similar descriptions. He’s an established director. He writes, produces, shoots and directs. Getting his hands on every part of the process even if it’s uncharted territory. He’s currently taking a break. There’s no stopping, it’s just that sometimes you gotta’ lay down and just be. Embrace the gifts life ‘gave you’ or whatever, he remembers couch surfing like it was yesterday. He’s still got a soft spot for instant ramen and misses his friends sometimes. They are busy these days.
That’s why he wasn’t in the best mood when one of his best friends asked him to meet a friend of hers, they haven’t spoken in months and suddenly his career was took into consideration. He trusts her but he can’t promise shit. To be honest, he’s meeting this dude because he somehow managed to ditch their shared social gatherings and that is impressive with the number of friends they have in common. His decision may be biased with the fact he’s been wanting to meet him himself but nobody needs to know, it’s the perfect crime.
A ringing interrupts his thoughts, oh shit.
He opens the door, hoping his casual attire is fine for the occasion. It’s surreal how their paths were close enough for him to know stuff about the other and yet they never hung out, just like a friendship in third person.
---x---
His name is Karkat Vantas and his sweat is sweating. Fuck. If there were literally any other option than didn’t involve giving up on his dream project, he would abso-fucking-lutely take it but roses are red, violets are red, everything is red ‘cause he’s about to faint. No wait-
Deep breaths.
In. Out. Alright, back on track.
It’s not the end of the world, he’ll just ask his ex-boyfriend for a favor. It’ll be fine! It’s not like Karkat keeps the secret that said ex-boyfriend never met him in real life or ever saw a picture of him, or like Karkat intentionally avoided him in person as soon as he recognized him under the fear of being recognized himself and subsequently dumped because of his awfully mediocre looks or trash personality. Anyway, he rings the bell before he loses the courage to do it. The door opens in the same breath as if Dave had been waiting on the other side all his monologue.
Karkat’s breath hitches because Dave looks just like he remembers him, blond with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as if he were excited about meeting Karkat and shit. His heart aches so good he’s tempted to break the promise he can’t keep and tell him how badly he misses talking to him every day about everything, how he still keeps the selfies Dave used to send him in the most absurd poses possible to make him laugh or how he prepares pasta the way Dave told him he liked it even though it’s too bland for himself. His mind struggles to find a way to convey every single thing he is experiencing from fear to affection, his mouth opens as if to make things easier but it’s too late. Something tells him they are in different wavelengths, that even if he could tell him, it’d be meaningless.
“Karkat. Vantas. Terezi told you I was coming?”