Work Text:
The last thing you remember, you were sitting on John's shitty sofa. You'd been arguing with Dave about… something. You have no idea. There are far too many things in this world that you could be arguing with Dave about, both seriously and jokingly.
As you slowly come back into consciousness, you realize you are very much not on John's shitty sofa. You can feel cool glass beneath your cheek and something soft and fuzzy around your neck. Music is blasting away and you know there's no way you could possibly be at John's anymore, because you don't think he'd be playing Kesha.
When you sit up, it finally clicks that you were slumped against a car window, and that you are currently wearing a neck pillow. The car lurches as you go over a speed bump and you close your ganderbulbs again because holy shit, why is everything spinning?
"You okay over there, Kitty Kat?"
"…Roxy? What the fuck are you doing here?"
"It's my car, silly."
"Sure, fine. It's your car. But why am I in it?" Roxy doesn't immediately respond and you realize that she probably can't hear you over her obnoxiously loud music. How did you not wake up before now? "Roxy! Why am I in your car?"
"Shhh, hold on. This is my jam." Instead of turning the music down, she turns it up. You groan, but let her finish scream-singing along to the song.
"Okie dokie, I'm all ears now," she says as she turns the stereo way down, until it's almost inaudible. "What's up?"
"What's going on?" You hate that you can hear how drunk you still are. "Where are we going?"
"Takin' you home."
You almost accept that answer, until you realize that it doesn't actually make any fucking sense. "…My apartment is within walking distance of John's place."
"Well obviously that's not where I'm taking you, duh."
You raise your hands up to your eyes and press your palms into them, hoping that will somehow take away the all-consuming confusion you are feeling right now. "Then where are we going?"
"Dave's place."
"Dave's place?"
"Yup! That's what I said. You might need to help me drag him inside when we get there."
You remove your hands from your face and look around, alarmed. "Where is—is that lump in the backseat him? Holy shit."
After catching sight of something in the rear view mirror, you turn around to look in the backseat. You know you must be fucked up, because you have no idea how you didn't notice him before. His legs are literally pressed into the back of your seat. There is a blanket over his upper half, concealing his head entirely, but the long legs that are currently curled up into a highly uncomfortable looking position are clearly his.
"Is he dead?"
Roxy just laughs. "Why would I put him in the backseat if he was dead? Obviously he'd go in the truck. Don't wanna stink everything up in here." When you don't immediately respond, she adds, "You can laugh, that was a joke. I'd never put my baby brother's dead body in the trunk. But he's not dead, so it doesn't matter. He's just hella drunk."
"…And you aren't?"
She laughs again. "Nope. It was my turn to be DD."
You eye her suspiciously. "You definitely had a drink in your hand all night."
"Mocktail. All juice. Still real tasty, I'll have to make you one some time."
She slows down and the car goes over another speed bump, this time a lot more gently than the first one. "You're sure?"
"Promise," she responds. The serious tone of her voice is almost a shock because you aren't used to hearing it from her. "Gonna get you two back to Dave's all safe and sound. I'll even tuck you in and everything."
"That's not necessary at all."
"Fiiine. If you say so."
A mumble comes from the back and you turn around again. "Are you alive again?"
Dave groans. "No."
"You're real good at talkin' for someone who isn't alive," Roxy tells him. "I'm almost to your place, you want me to stop and get you anything before we get there?"
He mumbles again and you don't catch it at all, but Roxy clearly does. "Already got you red gatorades, don't worry. They're in the trunk with some other snacks. There's some for you too, Karkat."
"When could you possibly have gotten gatorade and snacks?" you ask her.
"After we left John's. You were literally there."
"I was not?" You actually aren't sure about that. There is a huge, dark chasm in your memory when you try to remember what happened between sitting on John's couch and waking up in Roxy's car. You have zero recollection of leaving and getting in the car.
"You were," she insists. "You stayed in the car to keep an eye on Dave while I went and got us stuff from the gas station. I even got you those chocolate covered coffee beans you kept askin' for. And some bananas? You were real worried about Dave not getting enough potassiums or something."
You really and truly hate Past Karkat. And Drunk Karkat. Which you still are, but you're Regular Drunk Karkat, not Blacked Out Drunk Karkat. The latter is an absolute asshole and you hope you never have to see his stupid face again. "Why am I so embarrassing?"
"You're no' 'mbarassin'."
You roll your eyes. "Wow, those were actual words."
Dave tries to sit up, which mostly involves him kicking the back of your seat multiple times and you yelling at him to knock it off until he's finally able to pull himself into an upright position. "Yeah, never mind," is all he says before curling back up on his side.
He stays that way for the next five minutes, until Roxy pulls up in front of his apartment building. You stumble when you get out of the car and Dave nearly falls on his face, so things are clearly going well for both of you.
"Why did you bring me here again?" you ask Roxy as she is attempting to help both of you get up to Dave's apartment. Thankfully there is a functioning elevator in this building, unlike the last place he lived, because there is no way you two would make it up six flights of stairs.
She shrugs. "You're the one who asked to come over. I'm just doin' your bidding."
That sounds like something Past Karkat would do, yeah. What an idiot.
Roxy deposits the two of you on Dave's couch once you get inside. Dave is back to being almost entirely incoherent, and she has to take his shoes off for him because all he does is slump over into your lap as soon as you two are sitting down.
"I'm not a pillow," you complain.
"Mhmm. Y'are."
Roxy says BRB out loud, because apparently doing that is a family trait, then rushes out of the apartment. You lean back against Dave's couch and shift a bit, trying to get him to at least lay in a more comfortable position if he's going to insist on having his entire upper body over top of your legs.
You must doze off because when you wake back up again, there is an assortment of gatorade, soda, and various snacks strewn across Dave's coffee table. Two glasses of water, a bottle of painkillers, and some antacids have also been carefully placed in the center of the table, likely so neither of you knock them over.
Dave is snoring away in your lap. It's a hideous yet endearing sound. You'll have to make him use of those nose strips next time he drinks though because wow is it loud.
You don't even notice that your fingers are playing with his curls until you hear giggling coming from somewhere to your right.
"The fuck are you laughing at?"
"Nothin'," Roxy replies as she makes her way back into the living room. "I got Dave's room all tidied up if you two wanna move in there. But you look pretty cozy right where you are."
There is no way you're getting up right now. Even if Dave wasn't preventing you from doing so. "Maybe later."
"Suit yourself. There's more drinks in the fridge if you want cold ones later. And a trash can with some extra bags next to the couch in case Dave's stomach decides to betray him." You watch as she starts gathering up her things, which are thrown all around the living room. "You okay if I head out? I can stay if you want but you two seem like you're not in any danger of alcohol poisoning."
"Yeah, don't let our dumb asses keep you up. If Dave suddenly starts dying I'll be sure to call someone who is a better adult than either of us."
"Sounds good." She sounds far too cheerful for… actually, you have no idea what time it is and you don't really care too look. She sounds far too cheerful in general. "My number's in your phone now if you decide I'm the better adult that you're gonna call."
You don't bother asking when that happened. You apparently got up to a lot that you don't remember tonight.
Roxy says her goodbyes, mostly to you because Dave is still passed the fuck out, and then you are left alone with him. You really wish you could remember why you wanted to come home with him, but you guess it's not that odd. He is one of your best friends, stupid drunken arguments aside.
You're about to drift off again when you feel Dave start to stir in your lap. You pull your hand away from his head, embarrassed that two people caught you fondling his hair. It's not your fault it's so soft. "If you puke on me, I'm going to strangle you with one of these trash bags."
"Not gonna puke." He once again takes more than one try to sit up, even with you there to help steady him. "Bed?"
"What about bed?"
"You wanna go to bed?" He rubs at his eyes for a moment, then adds, "Your lap is super comfy, am down to keep sleeping on it, but the bed is probably more comfy for you."
You are going to blame the sudden heat you feel in your cheeks on the alcohol that is likely still coursing through your veins. "Are you asking me to come to bed with you?"
"Uh. Yeah. That's exactly what I'm askin'." He stretches out, then seems to notice all the things on the coffee table and reaches for one of the gatorades. "You got my permission to blame it on being drunk if you wake up tomorrow questioning all of your life choices."
"I feel like that is something I should be saying to you."
He grins at you and oh. That sure is doing something to your pump biscuit. "Naw man, won't be no regerts here. Told you earlier, I'm absolutely down for a sleepover."
"I have no idea what you told me earlier, but whatever. Let's go have a sleepover, I guess."
"Fuck yes."
Dave seems to be much less drunk than he was earlier, based on the fact that he is able to carry his own water and gatorade into his bedroom. When you two get in there, you see that Roxy did indeed clean up. The bed is made and there isn't a single item of clothing on the floor, unlike the other times you've been over here.
Dave does not question the sudden cleanliness of his room and instead immediately messes it up by taking off his pants. "You want some PJ pants or anything?"
"None of your clothing is going to fit me." You say fuck it and also take off your jeans. If Dave isn't embarrassed about being pantsless, neither are you.
Dave waits for you to climb into his bed and then he turns off the lights and lays down next to you. You're a little surprised that he immediately cuddles up to you, but maybe you shouldn't be.
"Remind me to tell Roxy thanks in the morning," he mumbles against your shoulder. "Or afternoon. Dunno if I'm gonna be awake in the actual morning."
"Me neither. But will do."
"Mmkay. Night, 'Kat."
You allow yourself to pull him tighter against your side as you two drift off to sleep. You can figure out what this all means tomorrow. "Night Dave."