Work Text:
The team finished their afternoon game in a good spot, maintaining a healthy 3-1 lead after the third inning which was kept through the entire game, so, safe to say, Karkat was in a good mood entering the clubhouse. He sat down, stripping off the catchers gear, and getting ready to line up to shower. The months were stretching into July, and he managed to shake off the unending slog of May and June, reaching towards a playoff spot.
He went to shower, washing off the heat of the muggy Texan air, and throwing on a baggy T-shirt and jeans, when he was accosted walking over to his bags. “The Dodgers are playing the White Sox tonight, we’re going out,” Vriska said tilting her head to the side, grinning.
Karkat just grimaced slightly at the implication
“You just like to see my team getting pummelled, and it’s fucked up, and I won’t keep fucking standing for this. We’re going to win sooner or later, we all saw the spring training games.”
“Yeah you’re in the rebuild, that's been taking 20 years.”
“You wouldn’t know anything, your favourite team is a shelless husk,”
“A winning shelless husk,”
Karkat just groaned in frustration, “Yes fucking okay, we’re going out tonight to see this game, but you better be at practice early tomorrow,”
Vriska just shrugged, throwing a bag over her shoulder, with a Dodgers hat shoved onto her head, proudly asserting her wrong opinions.
Karkat pulled out his phone with a sigh, gnawing the inside of his cheek, opening up his messages.
carcinoGeneticist: WE’RE GOING TO A SPORTS BAR TONIGHT TO SEE A GAME, COME WITH?
turntechGodhead: hell yeah man, you know ive sold my soul for the great sport of baseball
carcinoGeneticist: COOL, WE’RE SEEING THE WHITE SOX PLAY THE FUCKING DODGERS. DO NOT FALL PREY TO THE PROPAGANDA, I DON’T CARE HOW MANY NL PENNANTS VRISKA TELLS YOU THEY’VE WON, I WILL BREAK UP WITH YOU IF YOU BECOME A DODGERS FAN.
turntechGodhead: dont worry babe, i would never put myself in danger of being relegated to the couch in such a way, the white sox lifestyle is a hard one, but its the one that has been forced upon me by the narrative, and also my boyfriend
carcinoGeneticist: I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU’VE WATERED DOWN MY THREAT LIKE THAT BUT AS LONG AS YOU UNDERSTAND.
carcinoGeneticist: ANYWAYS I’LL PICK YOU UP IN LIKE 30?
turntechGodhead: word
Karkat then pocketed his phone, looking up for Sollux, waving him over. “I’m assuming you’ve heard Vriska’s plan?” he asked
“Yeah,” Sollux said
“You need a ride?” Karkat asked, “I’m getting Dave but it’s not making the journey all that much longer.”
Sollux just shook his head, “I’m going with Nepeta, she already offered,”
Karkat nodded in acknowledgement, already going to collect his stuff and drive off, without the extra responsibility of Sollux.
He waved at the clubhouse, getting a few excited ‘See you later’s’ before walking out to the carpark to his car.
He climbed in, throwing his gearbag behind him, and starting the car. He switched on his terrible, overly tinny radio, which only played CDs. Through it came another one of Dave’s weird mixtapes that he must have put in last time they drove. Karkat had never seen someone so excited to find a car that didn’t connect to bluetooth, didn’t have an aux cord or have a radio, instead, shoving Karkat his bespoke CDs which he had lovingly handcrafted over the years. This CD consisted of a weird mix of synth music and classical piano that he had claimed was genius, and Karkat had just kind of let him play.
It was still playing by the time he pulled up outside of Dave’s apartment, pulling his phone out of his bag behind him, and ringing Dave.
“Hey?” Dave said, his voice ringing out from Karkat’s phone.
“I’m outside,” Karkat said
“Sick, give me like two shakes of a lamb's tail or whatever. I’ll be so fucking quick you won’t even see, I’ll just fucking appear in your car.”
“Just get going please,” Karkat pleaded softly.
“Anything for you babe,” Dave said, before subsequently hanging up.
Karkat sat quietly in the car, waiting, listening to Dave’s CD, when he was startled by his car door opening.
“Hey babe,” Dave said, climbing in, and leaning over, kissing Karkat quickly before fiddling with the CD player.
Karkat smiled at him, “Hey,” he mumbled.
Dave started chatting Karkat’s ear off about some dirt that he had to look through at work that day, and some forms that he had to fill in.
Karkat listened, interjecting when he had the chance, driving through the familiar Texan streets, to the sports bar he and the baseball team often frequented.
He parked outside, and started rooting through his bag, pulling out a White Sox hat he kept buried in there, for times like these. He looked over to Dave, gesturing at the bar with a tilt of his head, and the both clambered out of the car, walking in. They were immediately assaulted by a wall of noise, seeing the entire baseball team squeezed into a set of tables, in front of a TV mounted on the wall. Karkat grabbed Dave’s hand, dragging him over, and sat him next to Nepeta, who was chatting excitedly to Roxy, their outfielder and unfortunate Yankees fan, which Karkat spent a lot of time trying to look past. Because people are more than their favourite baseball team.
“Dave” Roxy said, loudly, trying to speak over the cacophony of noise which was filling the bar, “Long time no see, the ASU Wood Ducks aren’t the same without your mascot work!” She said, grinning.
“Good to see my work has been valued. I’d hate to put everything I had into my performances nightly only to be forgotten on the first chance you all get,”
Karkat shook his head at that, “I don’t think we can, that duck is burnt into my retinas, it’s eyes were empty.”
Dave grinned over at Karkat, “Don’t tell me you didn’t have a thing for it babe, you were all over me. You couldn’t get enough of Duck Strider,”
Karkat grimaced in disgust, “Never imply that again, I would never stoop so fucking low,” He said, standing up, “Anyways, I need a drink to get through this game, you want?” He asked, turning to Dave, who just nodded.
Dave turned back to Nepeta and Roxy once Karkat left, “So give it to me straight, how likely are the Sox in on this one. What are we talking.”
Nepeta and Roxy were both silent for a minute.
“It’s not going to be pretty,” Nepeta said, rolling her R’s in a way that’s just characteristic of her.
“I think they could,” Roxy said, “Tell Kitkat over there not to lose hope,”
“I would never turn on my team,” Karkat said, pushing a drink over to Dave, placing his own in front of him. “I have full belief that they can pull through.”
Everyone around them looked doubtful, but they turned their sights up to the screen for the first pitch nonetheless.
Karkat was looking less and less sure of his original confidence as the game progressed, and the Dodgers batted in runs.
After a particularly nasty hit pushed past the shortstop, and another run was batted in, Karkat looked downright horrified.
He was yelling passionately at both the screen, and at Vriska who was finding great joy in taunting Karkat.
“No it’s only the third fucking inning, and they’re only leading by two, your team is a fucking empty husk depleted of joy,” Karkat said to her, glaring. This was when another run was batted in and a pointed cheer went up from Vriska.
Karkat rolled his eyes looking back over to the screen as the inning ended.
The fourth inning went a little better. Just enough to give Karkat hope. The White Sox score a single run home run.
He cheers loudly, enough to get pointed looks from the surrounding patrons, but they’ve been getting pointed looks all night, because they’re loud as shit, and taunts Vriska, and Eridan, who is also sat clad in a Dodgers hat.
They’re still losing 3-1 but Karkat felt he deserved this much at least.
He sat down heavily after that run, leaning back into Dave slightly, sipping his drink. He had managed to collect his second drink, finishing his first one in the humiliating first three innings.
The game wore on, Karkat got another drink, and the Dodgers scored another run, yelling as he saw the second baseman fumble yet another ball. “What the fuck was that,” Karkat yelled, “The ball was coming straight at you, what good is a second baseman if they can’t catch a ball, that’s like your only fucking job,”
“Besides throwing the ball, I assume,” Dave mumbled.
“Whatever, he needs to keep hold of it to throw it.”
“Touché”
The innings dragged on, for Karkat. Everyone else was having a great time. He groaned as a fly ball landed in the glove of the Dodgers centre fielder, ending out the game. The score ended with a 6-1 to the Dodgers, which, Karkat still managed to be surprised by, no matter how predictable the outcome may have been.
Dave patted Karkat on the shoulder in an attempt at what he thought was comforting, and Karkat just sighed leaning back. “I have to go buy Vriska a drink now,” Karkat mumbled.
“Wow, lose a game and like $10. You just can’t win here can you,” Dave said.
“My life as a White Sox fan consists of endless suffering.” Karkat said, standing heavily.
“Can’t even keep the record for the most losses, can’t win anything,” someone yelled from the table. Karkat just held up his middle finger, walking over to the bar.
When he returned, everyone was in a little huddle, split between those staying and those getting ready to get back to their respective homes. He gave Vriska her drink, and nudged Sollux, “Hey, you’re driving us home,”
Sollux looked at Karkat, then sighed, getting up from the table, grabbing Karkat’s keys off of him.
“Yeah, whatever.”
Karkat grinned at Dave like he achieved something, which, not getting arrested for drunk driving was maybe something.
Karkat was leaning heavily on Dave, holding his baseball cap lightly in the other hand.
They both climbed into the back seat, while Sollux settled behind the wheel.
“I’m not a taxi service here guys,” Sollux complained, starting the engine.
Karkat just grinned over at him, before leaning back onto Dave.
The drive home was relatively quiet, with Karkat tired from the game he played earlier in the day, and the alcohol slowing him down. He shut his eyes, with the gentle bumping of the tyres against the dirt and the heavy weight of Dave’s arm around him.
He woke up suddenly, to Dave shaking his arm gently and Karkat slowly, with effort stood up, with Dave leading him. The three of them went up to Karkat and Sollux’s apartment, and Karkat walked into his room. He sat down on the bed and Dave followed him a few minutes later with two glasses of water, handing one to Karkat.
“Here, sorry the White Sox lost today man,” Dave said, passing the glass over.
Karkat just shrugged. “Nothing I haven’t seen before,”
Dave just nodded, climbing in next to Karkat. Karkat fell back with him, throwing an arm around Dave’s midsection, passing out pretty much as soon as his head hit the pillow. Dave dropped his shades on the nightstand next to him, closing his eyes.