A/N: This is an Earthstuck, no SBURB AU. So the humans and trolls share a planet together. Just so you guys know.

You remember how this shit storm all started.

You were fifteen, and starting your first day at a new high school. Your mom didn't take the loss of your dad very well, and tore up both you and your brother and moved all of you back to her home town. Why? Probably to be with her parents and assorted family members you hardly remember. The move didn't effect Kankri much, seeing as how he would be leaving for college once school started back up anyway. Yes, your perfect brother and his perfect scholarship were off at Harvard before he could even consider settling in, much less helping you adjust. You don't like change now, and you sure as fuck didn't like it then, either.

But it wasn't your call, and you were forced to attend school when it started up, even though half of your shit was still in a box somewhere in the house. You, of course, didn't much like that. A new school, new students, new teachers… and in a small town like this, they probably all know each other. You were scared to stand out - to be noticed, especially by the wrong person. That's not to say that you have social anxiety or some shit, because you don't. Any other day, and you'd cuss out anyone who so much as looked at you twice, but, well… let's just say that you had a problem with change and leave it at that.

But all that shit aside, you were actually feeling fairly stable about five minutes into your first day. It's a small school, so you didn't really need a guide, just a paper map, which you had memorized after a few glances. Your locker was easy to find and, surprisingly, wasn't jammed like your old one. You also didn't have to share it, which completely sold you on this "new school" business. You actually felt - dare you say it - optimistic as you made your way to your first class.

Feeling positive proved to be a mistake.

You were used to a bigger school and didn't have any friends to talk to before class started, so you got to the classroom early. Really early. You weren't expecting anyone else to be there, but as soon as you opened the door, loud, obnoxious laughter greeted your presence. It took you just a fraction of a second to figure out why people were laughing, but then gravity caught up with you, and suddenly, you were soaked.

And you were pissed.

Not only did you just fall victim to the most over-used prank in history, but you were also cold. The asshole who set this up didn't even have the decency to heat the water up before dumping it all over you. The bucket he had balanced above the door sat next to you on the tile floor, and you kicked it in frustration. It hit the side of the teacher's desk and sent some miscellaneous items to the floor, but you could not care less.

The other two people in the room were still laughing, and you looked up to see a boy and a girl, chortling away as if they didn't just completely devastate your self-esteem within the confines of three seconds.

Footsteps sounded down the hallway, and a few seconds later, another boy with dark hair came skidding into the room. "What happened-?" He went to say, then stopped. He looked at you, covered with water and almost shaking from both your anger and the cold, and then at the bucket before he sighs. "Really, Dave?" He shot a glare at the blonde boy who was still laughing. The girl, at least, had the decency to stop and at least try to suppress her grin. "You got the wrong person, you know." The new guy pointed out, putting a hand on your shoulder.

The blonde - Dave - finally calmed down, whipping a tear from the corner of his eye as he finally started paying attention to this new kid, who you assumed was his friend. "F-Fucking obviously, Egbert." He said with a grin. "But is it still funny? Absolutely."

Egbert (which was apparently his name?) grimaced and gave you a sympathetic look. "Are you okay?"

Somehow, you resisted the urge to give a smartass reply and roll your eyes. Instead, you just went for the obvious response. "Does it fucking look like it?" Okay, maybe you lied about the smartass reply.

He smiled hesitantly, put off by your attitude, but at least glad that you weren't strangling his friend. "Sorry. Dave and Jade were trying to get me, not you. We're… kinda in the middle of a prank war." He explained. "I really am sorry, though. If you want, I have some extra clothes you can change into."

You were amazed that someone at this school was actually as polite as John was, and it annoyed you. Everything about him kind of annoyed you, but you weren't about to pass up a change of clothes. "Why do you have a change of clothes?" You asked, eyebrow raised, instead of just accepting his offer.

"With the way these two prank?" Egbert jerked his thumb in the direction of his friends. "You can never be too safe."

You nodded and sighed, brushing some of the wet hair out of your eyes. His explanation made sense, at least. "Yeah." You agreed, taking a deep breath. "A change of clothes would be great."

He smiled sympathetically, leading you out into the hallway by your elbow, when you heard someone in the other room moving. You looked back, and the girl with hair darker than Egbert's was standing behind you. "Sorry." She said sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. "Dave won't apologize, but I will because unlike some people," She shot a pointed look in the direction of her accomplice, "I'm not a complete ass."

This statement was followed by a muffled, "fuck you, Harley" from the other room. Had you been in a mood even remotely resembling "happy" you might have laughed. But you weren't happy, and you didn't laugh. You just stared at this Harley girl. You hoped she didn't just come over to apologize when you could have already been warm and dry again.

She, however, did laugh, making your silence even more awkward. "I'm Jade, by the way." She added, reaching her hand out for you to shake. You did - albeit hesitantly - because at least she was making an effort to be polite after just completely soaking you.

"I'm Karkat." You replied dryly. Still, as completely fed up at you looked, you kind of had to admit one thing. It could have been worse. Way worse.

Your gaze was drawn back to the classroom and, though you didn't hear him move in the least, Dave was standing behind Jade. It was unnerving as Hell. He didn't even say anything at all - he just stood there and looked at you. Or, you assumed he was looking at you. It was hard to tell with the shades he was wearing. You hoped they weren't a constant thing, because that could and would get annoying real quick.

The strangest thing is, Egbert and Jade didn't seem to notice him. If you two were in a movie, he'd probably be a ghost that only you can see, or some other ridiculous entity that fits into an oddly specific scenario. But you knew he wasn't a ghost because you were living a real life. It was real life, and he was a dick, and you were soaking wet. There was nothing more to it than that.

Or, at least, there wasn't anything more to it until he smiled. He fucking smiled. And not even an obnoxious, self-entitled smile or even just a smirk. Because that would have been too easy. Instead, he smiled a real smile. Like he was genuinely happy to have run into you. But the worst part was how you reacted to that smile. Your face turned red, your heart skipped a beat, and it suddenly became impossible for you to remember any of your extensive vocabulary. Or even speak at all. Your mouth was far too dry for that, and your train of thought had jumped the rails and slammed uncaringly into your brain. Shit. It- It shouldn't be legal for an asshole to have such a nice smile

"Uh, here… Karkat." Egbert spoke up, grabbing your wrist and beginning to lead you down the hall. You didn't particularly care about what he was saying then, and you sure as Hell don't care now. Talk about serious déjà-vu.

"Karkat, are you okay?" John's voice brings you back to reality, with a few noticeable changes. For one, the world is a lot clearer now. You don't have the greatest memory, so it makes sense that your flashbacks would be fuzzy. Your eye level is also higher than in your flashback. It has been two years since then, after all. You've grown, but you've given up hope of ever getting any taller than 5'4" without high-heels. Which is fucking bullshit in your opinion, but whatever. Your family has always been short.

"I'm fine, John." You snap, your words coming out harsher than intended. You're not sure if it's a good or a bad thing that he isn't fazed, but you still hurry to correct yourself. "Just thinking."

John rolls his eyes, stopping outside the boy's bathroom and thrusting a t-shirt into your hands. "You're always thinking. Hurry up and change. I don't want to be late for another class." He sighs, leaning against the wall to wait the two minutes it will take for you to change and make yourself presentable once more.

You mutter a few choice words under your breath but, knowing that John is right (as usual), just leave it at that and hurry to get changed.

The bathroom is, thankfully, empty, and you quickly switch shirts before that can change. You really hate Dave right now. You could report him for bullying if the principal and the staff didn't think that he's God's gift to the world. And also if he was actually bullying you. He's not - technically. Mostly it's just a lot of pestering and "coincidences" such as what happened just a few minutes ago.

The one time you let your guard down, and what does Dave do? He just so happens to walk by your table and the cafeteria, and "accidentally" trip and spill his lunch all over you. You're just lucky that John always has a back up pair of clothes and that he's more or less your size. It's not a bad idea, actually. You still have to survive the rest of this year and senior year with Dave, so you should prepare, right? Right. You make a mental note to start packing spare clothes in your backpack.

You sigh tiredly, seeing your pitiful reflection in the mirror. It's not too hard to see why Dave would single you out to be the victim of his fucked-up sense of humor. Not that you actually understand Dave at all, much less know why he seems to hate you so much. He's never told you, and you've never bothered to ask. You'd rather dig your eye out with a dull spoon than attempt to have a pleasant conversation with Dave motherfucking Strider.

You turn the sink on and simply stand there, watching the water run through your fingers for about twenty seconds before you remember that school water doesn't heat up. Cheap ass bastards… Still, it'll do, and you do your best to comb the mashed potatoes out of your hair. Something that looks vaguely like solid gravy slips down the drain, and you suppress a shiver. There's a reason you never eat school lunches, and this is it. It's sick. You can make better food in your sleep, and you sometimes do. Yeah. You sleepwalk. It's better than the insomnia you had as a kid, you suppose, but you're still always tired.

Whatever. It doesn't matter. You're done making yourself at least a little presentable, so now you get to suffer through the last two classes of the day. Hooray for you.

Ah, if only your life could be that simple.

When you step out of the bathroom, you find not one, but two boys waiting for you. Well, kind of. You know that John is waiting for you, but, well, you're not entirely sure why Dave is here. "...need to end this bullshit." John is saying as you step outside. The door (surprisingly) doesn't make a sound, and neither do you, but despite the fact that Dave is wearing aviators that take up half his face, you can still feel when his gaze slides over to you. God, he is so fucking creepy. If there's one good thing about the constant, bizarre attention he gives you, it's that you've finally learned to control your facial expressions and body language. You're no longer quite the open book you were when you first arrived at this school.

John, sensing that his friend is no longer listening, turns to look over his shoulder at you. He frowns. "Dave, whatever you're thinking-" He begins, facing him once more, but is quickly cut off.

"No, John." He shakes his head, and you can tell that he's not looking at Egbert anymore. "You're right. Don't worry - I know exactly what to do."

Dave has very long legs. Much longer than yours could ever be, and even though you already know this, you're more than a little caught off guard when Dave is suddenly standing in front of you. He towers over your messily 5'4" frame easily, and it pisses you off. It should probably scare you - considering some of the things he's done to you - but it doesn't. You don't get scared. You get mad, and then impulsive, and then do something stupid that you'll probably regret later. You're not quite at the point where you want to kick his balls back into his body, but you're close.

It does nothing to calm you down when Dave puts a hand on your shoulder. How dare he touch you! And in such a friendly, carefree manner, too! If it weren't for the utter lack of bullshit in his expression, you would have given into the impulse to respond violently. You pack a bigger punch than your appearance may lead people to believe. Admittedly, you're punches aren't very good, but you like to think that you can still hold your own in a fight. Just… not a fight against Dave.

"We need to talk privately." Dave says suddenly, pulling you from your mind and back to the mortal plain. You frown. You were trying to remember all the ways to kill a man with your bare hands, and he interrupted you. You open your mouth to refuse his "request" but your protests die in your throat when he squeezes your shoulder so hard that you know it's going to bruise. You wince, but keep your lips sealed. You aren't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he's caused you pain. "Now. This isn't up for negotiation."

John, who has been watching silently with concern up to now, steps forwards then and puts a hand on Dave's arm. "Uh, Dave?" He forces a laugh that does nothing to ease the tension between the three of you. "Don't get me wrong - it's great that you want to work this whole thing out, but we have class soon. So…" His blue eyes dart anxiously to the hand on your shoulder which, for what it's worth, isn't holding you anywhere near as tightly as before.

Dave opens his mouth to say something - possibly a complete dismissal of the rules - but before he can, the bell cuts through the silence, jarring all of you back to reality. When Dave speaks again, it's after some hesitance as students begin to flood the hallways. Why they're in such a hurry to get to class, you may never know. "You can stand to be late for one more class." Dave says finally. His head is tilted towards John, but you can tell that he's looking at you. It feels like he always is, and you just don't get it. What exactly did you do to deserve this asshole's attention?

Once again, John starts to protest, but this time, it's you who silences him. "Don't worry about it, Egbert." You shake your head, signaling to him that it's just not worth it. "Might as well get this over with…" You sigh, looking up at Dave unhappily.

If he notices your displeasure, he doesn't comment on it. He simply presses his lips into a thin line - like he's trying to keep from smiling - and nods his head towards the end of the hallway. Students are pooling into their classes, so it's easy to see what he's indicating. But even if a fucking wall had been in your way, you would know that he's gesturing to the school's back exit. "Let's talk outside. And don't worry," his gaze slides over to John, "I promise to have him back in ten minutes or less."

John just sighs, appearing to be completely done with your shit. "Fine. But I'm not covering for you with the teacher." He tries and fails to look mad at you, before simply giving up and heading towards his class.

If he looks back, you'll never know, because Dave almost automatically begins pulling you towards the doors. You are strangely indifferent to all of this. You figure that whatever happens is going to happen regardless of how tense you get, so you just stay loose. You heard somewhere that things hurt more if you're tensed up, which is why drunk drivers have a higher chance of surviving car crashes than the sober people they hit. Or something. You don't really care, which is a surprise to absolutely nobody.

You remain indifferent as you and Dave step outside and into the scorching sun. He's leading you by your hand, and you do your best to remain indifferent about this, too. You try to pretend that his hand isn't warm, and that it doesn't feel nice in yours, and that you're not turning red from all of this indifference. Yeah. You're definitely not blushing. Not even when he pushes you down into a sitting position at one of the many tables scattered about behind the school. You're also not blushing when he sits across from you and, leaning forward, takes your hands in his.

You hate yourself for finding him attractive, and you hate him even more for being attractive. He hates you and you hate him. Where is he getting the idea that making you feel this way is even remotely okay? You think that the universe is out to get you too, because you've shared a majority of your classes with him over the years. Especially gym. God, gym class is absolutely horrible because then he's shirtless and smirking at you in that knowing way and sweating and- okay, you really need to stop with these thoughts. Hormones be damned- you do not find Dave attractive. Not at all. He is awfully close, though…

"I have an offer I want to make." He speaks up suddenly, after a solid minute of silence. Maybe he was sizing you up? You don't know.

Curiosity gets the better of you faster than you'd like to admit and, against all logic, you make the mistake of asking, "What kind of offer?" Wow, you already regret this. Why didn't you just let John take you to class? It would have made this day a lot easier.

Dave smirks in that smug, know-it-all way of his, and any interest you have in this conversation instantly gives way to anger. He rubs you in all the wrong ways. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

You're about to tell him to "fuck off" in the most colorful way possible, but he starts talking before you. You scowl, but begrudgingly pay attention. "So, John has taken the liberty of informing me that my "asshole behavior" is really fucking with you, so I came up with a solution."

You put a sarcastic smile on your face and, in your best teenage girl impression, say, "You're finally going to become a decent member of society and leave me alone?" The amount of false sweetness in your voice is enough to choke a professional wrestler. They'd probably have to punch the wall to feel manly again after all that sugar you dumped on them.

"No." Dave says flatly.

Of course.

"Or, well, maybe." He adds, and you can't help but perk up at this. Maybe is good enough for you. "But only if," Dave rushes to continue before you can get too hopeful, "you can beat me at a game."

"A game?" You repeat, eyebrow raised. You're more than a little suspicious, to say the least. Dave doesn't seem like the type of person to play games. Even when it comes to you. Everything he does seems… personal. And although you'd rather jump off of a cliff than talk to him most of the time, you know that he cares about you in his own fucked up way. You're special. No one else is allowed to pick on you which, again, really creeps you out.

"A game." Dave confirms, nodding. "A game of the heart. It's like this-" He pulls his hands from yours, and you squash the disappointment that curls up in your stomach at the lack of contact. "We start dating. Like a real couple. Holding hands, kissing, cuddling, date nights - the works." He can see that he's losing you, so he hurries to finish. At any other point, you'd be quick to make your complete lack of interest clear, but this offer - genuinely has you stumped. "Just for seven months - until the end of the school year. We try to woo each other. And the first person to fall in love, loses." He rests his chin on his hands, watching you carefully from behind his shades. "If I fall in love-" He laughs for a few seconds before remembering what he's doing, and continues, "I'll stop bugging you. Ever. You'll never hear shit from me again."

Now that you like the sound of. Much better than this "dating" bullshit. And you can't believe you're asking, but… "What if I fall in love?"

"Then I'll tell you why I've been so… invested in you for the past few years." Dave states calmly. His eyes are burning holes in you, and it makes you shift uncomfortably. You hate it when he stares. You get the feeling that he can read you like a magazine, and it unnerves you. Everything about Dave unnerves you. But there's still that tiny part of you that likes the idea of this "game" for more reasons than simply getting Dave off your back. You hate that part of yourself.

Seeing as how you haven't flat-out rejected him yet, Dave makes the decision to keep talking. "Of course, there are rules to this game." Of course. "If you want to play, then we start dating immediately. No questions asked. That means that we actually have to act like we're dating. So, if I kissed you or held your hand or something, pulling away would be considered a forfeit, and we'll continue our relationship from where we left off." He pauses, and you remain silent, fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt under the table. You can't believe that you're actually seriously considering this. "The arrangement stays between us." Dave moves on. "As far as anyone else knows, we're completely ga-ga for each other." He leans forward - so close that you can actually see the silhouette of his eyes behind his shades - and smirks. "So. Wanna play?"

You bite your lip nervously, looking up at his patient expression and then back down at your fists clenched in your lap. You grip the material of your jeans, pulling and pinching it while you think.

On the one hand, you hate Dave. You really do. It would cause you no pain if he suddenly was removed from your life. In fact, you dare say that you might actually enjoy school if that happened. Maybe you'd even leave your house more often since your chances of seeing him on the streets would be reduced to 0%.

But on the other hand…

He is cute. Really unfairly cute. And you don't think you would entirely mind kissing a face like that. So, yeah, maybe you're physically attracted to Dave, but you were also once attracted to John. You had to learn the hard way that physical attraction means absolutely jackshit when it comes to actual love. So, you can do this. You can get through seven months of dating one of the hotter boys in your school. Because, let's be honest - when are you ever going to get another chance at this? At the very least, it'll be good kissing practice for when you start a real relationship. Love isn't a game to you, and you sure as fuck aren't losing this one.

You can't believe you're doing this. You look up at him, doing your best to make eye-contact. Fuck, was he always so close? You shove that thought out of your way, and narrow your eyes challengingly. "Game on."

And, of course, he smirks. He knew even when he was dragging you out here that you'd say yes. You're so predictable, aren't you? Dave, however, isn't predictable, and he proves it with what he does next.

The space still left between the two of you (what?, like six inches?) is quickly diminished to nothing, and his lips are soft and surprisingly warm against yours. You jerk in surprise, and move to pull away, but the hand he places on your cheek keeps you still. You remember what he said. Any pulling back means that you forfeit. You clench your jaw in frustration, and kiss him back. If you're going down, you sure as fuck aren't going down easy. Dave seems pleased that you're going to play the game, and makes a small humming sound in the back of his throat.

Your heart skips a beat.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you get the feeling that this is going to be a long seven months.

A/N: So, this is an idea I've been toying around with for a while, and I honestly don't know how long this will be. I'm just tossing this out there for the time being. If anyone is interested in more chapters, I'll try to get those out as soon as possible.