Your name was Karkat Vantas and it was now that you were feeling exceptionally dumbfounded if not incredibly astonished. Yes, you had screwed up and now was no big exception. At least this time it seemed you were going to have an awful hard time weaseling yourself out of this certain dilemma. You sighed deeply, exhaling a visible puff of vapor into the frosty Manhattan air while you adjusted the loose strap of your duffle bag on your shoulder. You looked down once more at the scrap of paper with the hastily scribbled address written across it that you desperately clutched your quivering hand.

Gog, it was like the frozen fucking tundra out here! Well what had you expected? It was the middle of November in as far north as you cared to journey in the U.S. of A. and you stood out in the glacial frigid night in no more than skinny jeans and a hoodie that couldn't keep you from trembling in your red hightops. That only reminded you of how screwed you were right now. And why was that?

You glance back up from the address and allowed your copper yet crimson flecked eyes to skim the shabby apartment complex before you. You honestly weren't entirely sure what to make of the unpleasant brick that seemed to be an aspiring disaster rutted with a dingy fire escape and pathetic barred windows on the three story building. Well. No place like home.

You bit now on your lip to keep it from shivering while the thoughts flooded your mind about the cause of such a sudden change of location. You supposed you should have seen it coming though; your short-tempered and drunken father finally becoming more than just unmercifully violent. You were sickened by the thought and closed your eyes momentarily, wishing the disconcerting notions from your mind. After a deep breath you were ready to forget about leaving home in Harlem and scrapping the precious saved money from the shoebox under your mattress that you'd earned doing odd jobs and what not only to realize that you would only have enough to float you for a couple months.

So what had you done? Escaped to the other side of Manhattan and found a cheap room after research at an internet café where you could at least reside for a while. Until your dad cooled off or until your older brother found you and brutally dragged you back "home". It would never be home and never had been since your mother had died. But you inhaled a shaky breath to calm yourself; to push the tears that threatened in your eyes while bring the back of your hand from your hoodie pocket to wipe across your runny nose.

You shoved your hands down back deep into your jeans pockets and headed for the paint chipped door, head down and converse clad feet shuffling on the marshy street. You irritably remembered that it had been a downpour of a slushy mixture of ice and rain earlier as you huddled deep in your uncomfortable seat on the bus after taking a metro and walking a few blocks. It made the temperature and voyage even more formidable. Yet you still attempted not to slip as you reluctantly treaded up the steps and knocked hesitantly on that same dull colored door with a white boney knuckled fist. You couldn't really distinguish the exact color in the dim orange streetlight but all those thoughts left you as the alarming sounds of someone approaching the door on the other side jolted you from your thoughts.

You stared baffled as the door cracked open a bit to reveal a skeptical looking figure behind the opening in the door that was restrained by a rusty chain on the inside. "What the fuck do you want?" The balding man grunted while narrowing his cloudy eyes at you. Well you actually wondered if he could actually see you to begin with and after waving a tentative hand in his field of vision your studious notion was confirmed. Still you hastily replied through chattering teeth. "I called earlier." You drew a breath and resisted a devious sneeze before continuing. "About a sharing a loft on the third floor." You bit your lip again and vehemently tried to keep the torrent of curses from escaping your chapped lips as he seemed to mull it over before without warning slamming the door in your face.

You flinched and stood flabbergasted at this. Where were you supposed to go now! For fucks sake if you didn't get decent heating in the next five second you knew you'd freeze into a fucking Karcicle! You were absolutely about to explode from your uncontrollable need to piss and you were also extremely starving an-

"No weird shit, alright? I've already got one weird ass kid living up there. He'll be that other I meant when I said 'sharing a loft' by the way." He spat after opening the door again except this time to its full width seeing how he'd removed the subduing chain. You exhaled a deep breath of relief you didn't realize you had been holding while you hastily made your way inside. The subtle warmth of the hallway wasn't the blazingly rejuvenating furnace of heat you had wished for but it was definitely a godsend after the harsh and unforgiving cold. "eh, by the way, how old are you? I don't need any stowaways here either." The man unkindly asserted after slamming the door closed with a flourish of chilly air and sliding the locks back in place.

You weren't about to lie but you really figured you should be more safe than sorry so after a pause you replied. "eighteen." So what? Maybe you were actually only seventeen…ok so you would be in a couple months anyway. "huh, right right, how convenient; so is he." He retorted with a short bark of a laugh in disbelief while moving down the corridor, fingers skimming the aged wall as he led you to a set of stairs. "go up two floors. Second to the left." The man grunted before turning on his heel and hobbling off. You thought about saying thanks but he figured he was a bit crabbier than you cared to entertain so without another thought you bounded up the creaky stairs; two sets to be exact until you remembered you didn't have a key. The cold must have frozen your brain, you reasoned. Well you could just knock. No time to meet your new roommate than now, right?

You walked down the musky hall till, keeping to the left, you stopped short at a door with nothing more than a rusted brass knob and cloudy peek hole. There weren't even numbers or letters on the doors as you had at least expected seeing how your old apartment had such. Readying yourself you cautiously knocked on the door, hoping for the second time tonight that whoever on the other side would take pity and allow you entrance. Your hopes were answered, however not in the exact way you had initially wished.

Your eyes widened in surprise while you were fairly certain your mouth dropped open in astonishment at the sight of what-who- opened the door. He stood long and lean against the frame of the doorway, raven hair in snarls and faded jeans hanging dangerously low on his hips. But what really caught your attention (besides his lack of shirt and the package underneath you approved of) was his clown like face paint. He stood silently staring lazily at you with a lethargic expression that made you question if he was high off some dubious drug. You blinked in disbelief but collected yourself to crossly utter as impolitely as possible, "nice shirt." before realizing the awkwardness that set. Well, no use repairing pleasantries now. You wondered if he had actually heard you since he just continued to indolently stand there.

Then you watched as he cocked his head to the side and languidly replied in a slightly gravelly voice. "You're one cute as hell motherfucker, you know that?" you felt yourself blush at the way his deep voice made your heart skip a beat as he only nodded like that was an incredibly normal greeting and licked his lips yet continued to block the entrance to his-your- room. You averted your eyes from his intense gaze and found yourself rudely pushing past him to enter the toasty room. You tensed at the brief contact when you had to push past him even though he didn't seem to mind; only turned to softly close the door behind the both of you. However you had skidded to a halt about setting eyes on the contents of the room.

To begin with, the musky room was cloaked in a peaceful darkness that was only interrupted by the soft glow of a desktop computer and three or four scentless candles sitting on various surfaces in the room. Not only that but there seemed to be an assortment of clothes scattered on the floor along with, what were those things? Horns? Gog this guy was a total fucking loon! Plus you didn't see the 'loft' the asshole downstairs had assured you about. In fact the only sufficient sleeping surface you could spot was a futon that had definitely seen its better days.

"Honk." Your thoughts were interrupted by that bizarre guy leaning in behind you till he was about two fucking inches from your ear and then proceeded to utter about the most random thing you could think of that had made you practically jump out your skin and turn around only to have his outlandishly painted face inches from yours; an idle smirk lining his features. Of course you stumbled backwards in alarm and of course out of your fright you tripped on a gog damn horn. And that wouldn't be complete without you dropping your duffle bag and tumbling to the floor.

You decided that laying there sprawled on the disorganized and cluttered floor would be the more comfortable idea seeing how you were about exhausted as you could possibly be. That and the hazy dots swimming in your vision that made you give a drawn out out moan told you that even if you tried your attempts would more than likely be futile. It wasn't that you had hit your head that hard but that fact that you couldn't remember your last meal and the fact that you might even be suffering from hypothermia attributed to the fact that lying on some loopy clown guy's floor was a better idea than getting up and running for the hills.

"You ok, little motherfucker?" that same loon asked causing you to sluggishly open one eye and gaze at his new position sitting with his long legs folded Indian style by your limp form with his elbows on his knees and chin resting in his palms. He sounded genuinely concerned even though you only scowled at being called 'little'. It was one of those odd pet peeves you had. "I am not 'little' and no I'm not ok, you fuckass." You maliciously spat at him but only got more irritated when he grinned at your anger. So maybe you were kind of little…but at barely 5"5 when you were sixteen (almost seventeen) you knew you still had years to grow. Besides this guy was just freakishly tall. The old man who let you in said he was eighteen presumably but with his height you believed it. He must have been at least six feet tall and had that sinewy masculine that made you swoon.

"well," he began with a sigh that included stopping to poke you in the cheek with a black fingernail, something that made you cringe at the slight way your empty stomach flopped. "do I know you?" he finished with another poke to your rosy cheek that you were barely able to swat away with a still quivering hand. You swallowed and tried to sit up but only succeeded in making those black swimming dots consume your vision further as you clutched your head between your palms with another moan. But you still replied, not wanting to seem weak like always. "No. the asshole who owns this shitty place said I was going to share a loft when I asked for a fucking room, uh, and I'm…" You drew a shaky breath at the sight of his unchanged expression before whispering your name through quivering lips. "Karkat…Vantas."

You close your eyes and was just about to consider returning back to the floor before that clowny ass idiot picked you up. Literally just scooped you up like it was the most naturally thing to do with highly impolite strangers whom had barged into your home without a reason or excuse. Your stomach fluttered and you relaxed slightly at the astounding comfort you found in this strangers arms. You didn't even know his name and here he was, one arm under your knees the behind your back as his steps carried you to the futon you had seen earlier.

For the slightest moment you panicked, nails digging in to his still bare chest and giving a frightened gasp once you realized what he might do. That was just the thing; you really had no idea about this strange teen and yet even before he gently laid you down on the cushioned futon there was that part of you that knew he wasn't like…like that. "The names Gamzee motherfucking Makara by the way there, Kar-bro." He leaned in close to say so you'd have to look him in the eyes and quite frankly that made you blush even deeper as he stayed leaning over you on the sofa with one hand grasping the metal of its back while he kept a knee on the cushioned surface at your hip and lastly his other hand firmly gripping the arm rest at your head.

You were trapped and any reasoning that had told you he was marginally safe evaporated with all the air in your lungs. It wasn't like you would be able to fight him if he decided what he wanted from you tonight as you laid there, eyes wide and afraid as you balled the fabric of the sheets in your fists. "Gamzee?" you spoke finally after what seemed like forever, only to watched as he moved his other leg to now be straddling your hips something that made you swallow past the lump in your throat. You flinched when he once again poked you in the cheek with a digit that had previously been gripping the back of the futon. He still had you barred in. Except now he was sitting on you too.

"hhhhmm?" the clown sighed in reply for a ridiculously extended amount of time. You opened your mouth to say something but stopped when his fingers found your dark hair and you sadly failed to resist the arising urge to release a satisfying moan at the way he slowly ran the lengthy digits of his hand through you disheveled hair. He chuckled at the sound of your pleasure and adjusted his hips on yours; that or he was considering grinding on you. You couldn't say that would of come as a surprise.

But you had to stay focused and only reached a hand up to grip the wrist that owned the fingers that had decided to begin massaging your scalp in a way that had goose bumps and the hair on your arms rising as well as another problem you'd rather not discuss. He leaned forward even further and you closed your eyes to avoid his gaze as he watch the way you reacted to feeling his 'weight shift' once more. Despite the fact that he hooked a finger through one of your belt loops but then decided to move his curious hand up you actually wonder for the slightest moment if you really wanted to put a stop to it. His face was inches from yours and you could feel his warm breath lightly smoothing over your skin as he took great interest in your jaw line before hovering at your ear. "Kar-bro…?" he whispered and you bit your lip to keep from flat out yelling at him that you wanted him to fuc-

"what?" you growled while you realized your hands had wondered to his sides and now your fingernails were digging into his skin hard enough to make your fingers white. "that motherfucking hurts." He spoke again except this time his lips skimmed your jaw and you opened your eyes to see him tilting his head slightly while giving you a quizzical look. But the warm texture of his prodding fingers at the sensitive flesh of your side, right under your rib cage, had you choking out fuming reply. "g-get off me." You choked out and tried to wriggling out from underneath him even though your pathetic attempts were fruitless. Besides, you knew that when you had told him to get off you that you hadn't imagined the way your lips brushed his.

So you really weren't surprised when he lightly pressed his lips to yours. He was teasing you when he just as quickly removed them and smirked at you. To be honest you couldn't really call that a kiss. Before it went any further you opened your mouth to repeat your command except he took advantage of your opened mouth. You gasped against his mouth when he moved his lips with yours. Softly at first then without warning forcefully letting his tongue dance with yours in a way that had trying to pull him down closer to you while he moved his hips in slow circles. You were moving to wrap your legs around his waist while the hand he had under your hoodie explored the expanse of your chest and push it up just enough that the bare skin of both your chest were sliding against each other.

And then suddenly that was that.

"sure thing." Gamzee hesitantly uttered and then swiftly sat up to remove his weight from your hips. You heard yourself catch your breath and the feeble springs of the futon creak as his collected himself and began to walk somewhere you like entirely nothing had just happened. You blinked a couple times to clear the thoughts (all of them) from your muddled head as he returned with two bottles of soda. You wondered what the fuck that red liquid was. You'd never even heard of Faygo yet he still thrust the bottle into your hands and plopped down at the space at the end of the sofa. He propped his feet on the coffee table in front of the futon while twisting the cap off the redpop and taking a gulp of the soda.

You only stared in disbelief. What the fuck was with this guy! One minute he's practically grinding on you- or had that been you? – and the next he's taking a fucking water break like he hadn't just sexually assaulted you on disgusting futon! Except you also wondered if it could be called sexual assault since it might have been consensual.

You took a deep breath to try and calm yourself while you hurriedly twisted off the cap on your soda. You couldn't care less what type of beverage it was, you were dying of thirst. At least you hadn't cared until you took a sip of the sweet soda and almost spit it back out. Gog! It was the most horrid thing to ever of passed between your lips! And yet the clown at the end of the couch seemed to have already finished his bottle and was now untying your red converse.

"hey, quick that you-" you stopped when he pulled off your shoe and threw it over to the area behind you were your figured your duffle bag was. You were baffled by the fact that he was actually chuckling at your feet as he unlaced your left shoe and then proceeded to do the same as with the right. "what?" you asked a little bit too harshly for the situation yet you guessed why we was laughing. "What are you? Sixteen? And you wear a motherfucking size ten." He grinned at your annoyed expression before he quickly leaned forward to grab the bottle out of your hands.

But this guy obviously had an issue with respecting people's personal space because he practically climbed back on top of you again without ever breaking eye contact with you. His knee dug into your hip and you tensed when he reached for the bottle. Something that made your stomach drop to your toes for about the eighth time since you'd gotten there. And yet he returned to his position on the futon and you watched as he finished your soda, staring absently out the barred window as he did so.

You were back to not caring about your situation. In fact, you were scaring yourself by how relaxed this juggalo was beginning to make you and how comfortable you were feeling around him. But maybe those were thoughts to be pondered over tomorrow? Because right about now you could feel yourself floating into unconsciousness. A part of you even wished more than anything that when you woke up, that this wasn't in fact a dream but your own sweet reality you had been searching for.