You feel his fingers on your neck like so many times before. It's very gentle, just the way it always is, just the very tips of his fingers ghosting over scar tissue as you stare up at the cieling. Your book you'd been reading was forgotten on the bed next to you, dropped the moment his fingers came into contact with your skin. He touched your scars silently, and he wasn't often quiet. He made so much noise and ninety percent of the time he wasn't even aware of it.
You touch his arm and he flinches as if snapping back to reality. He makes a fist, an s, with his hand and rubs a small circle on his chest. "Sorry."
"It's o-k." You sign back and he sort of smiles at you before leaning to give your cheek a kiss. You smile at it. It's sweet. It's so unlike him. Out in public he's such a loud obnoxious character it was so nice to be alone with him.
He makes a 'd' and presses his pointer finger to his lips. His sign for your name. You make a 'k' and press your index finger to your ear. Your sign for his name. He likes it, you think, because he always smiles when you do it. He smiles at you a lot, when no one else is around and he makes a sort of cooing noise and kisses you, this time on the lips.
You met Karkat some years ago, in a sign language class. You like to think it was destiny or something, because the two of you seemed to click immediately. You didn't have to worry about him asking what you sounded like, he didn't have to worry about you trying to say something he wouldn't be able to hear.
When he first walked into that room you wouldn't have been able to guess his problem. He could have taken one look at the bandages covering your chin and probably guessed, but as he took the seat next to you and your stared at him through a pair of dark shades he just turned to you and said "What the fuck are you here for?" It was loud. He was almost yelling, you flinched and he stared at you like you were crazy. You made a gesture like turning a knob and he seemed to get it, immeidately repeating the question at a reasonable volume.
All you could do was point to your throat, and then your mouth and shake your head. He pointed to his ears, shaking his head a little bit too. He kind of talked to you, some words coming out wonky as he said them, some things he said didn't even sound like words. He probably had hardly a clue what he was saying. He was pretty coherent the first few months you two knew each other but over the years it's slipped away. He makes these weird noises that may be words in his head but they're just nonsense to others.
You two learned to sign together, you would talk a lot over skype and occasionally video call, just to sign. He confessed that he loved watching you sign. He said it just looked really nice. It was the first thing he said to you that was borderline complimentary. You loved watching him too.
No matter what he was saying you could feel every single emotion, just by the way he moved his hands. It was beautiful to you. The two of you would hang out as much as possible, and you would have silent conversations for hours on end.
You remember once when your brother walked in and just watched you two, wild hand gestures he didn't understand, he had no idea you were dirty talking. It was just for fun, the dirty talking. At least, for a while it was. You're not sure when you became serious, out of all those times you joked with him about how loud he'd be during sex.
You loved hearing the noises he made when you touched him though, because he didn't know if he was holding them back or not. He'd let off this loud moan and you'd hear your brother yelling from the other room, but you insisted to karkat that he was fine, that he was being quiet. Your bro questioned you a lot about it and you'd merely sign to him and he'd just roll his eyes.
It hurt that he didn't bother to learn it so he could understand you, but at the same time you loved that you and Karkat could have conversations without him eavesdropping.
You moved out when you were nineteen. You got a decent chunk of change from the government, due to your disability, and so you were able to move into a cheap aprtment on your own. You only lived alone for a little bit though, you practically begged Karkat to move in with you and he was sharing your queen size bed with you a month later.
By the time you lived together he was almost incapable of forming words, he'd get the occasioanl sound that got the job done out, but he never really said any words. He loved saying your name, though. Every time the noise 'thave' came out of him you would smile because it was how he said your name. It was the best he could manage, and it seemed to stay the same. There was a time when he could say it properly, but d's had become th's and it was close enough to make you happy.
He was really sweet in private, he'd hug you and kiss you and kiss your scars and he'd sign sweet things and he'd say your name for you. You wished so many times you could say his, but the best you could do was put it into the voice on your computer and listen to the electronic voice say it. You listen to it a lot, and you're jealous of the device that can say your lover's name when you can't. You're jealous of other people, when they say his name.
It's the thing you hate the most, is that you will never be able to say it. He can say yours all he wants but you can never say his. It's probably part of the reason why he loves it when you do his sign. It's the closest you can get.
You try not to get too upset over it, but tearstained pillow covers betray you every time.
He kisses your scar, hugs you tight and lays with you for a while. It's late and you're tired. You let him hold you as he sort of talks to himself. He gets quiet after a while. Usually that's the sign that he's finally difted to sleep, but as you look up at him, he's staring back at you. He looks expectant. He lets go of you and signs, asking you what's wrong. You easily sign that there's nothing wrong and he just sort of looks at you in a way that says he knows better.
He does know better, though. You can't speak a word but he seems to know every thought you ever have. He asks again, except this time he insists a little more. You merely make a k, poke your ear and he stares at you because it doesn't answer his question.
"I can not say your name." You sign and he sort of purses his lips like he's thinking.
"Do you want me to say it?" He finally responds.
"Yes."
He smiles at you, and he speaks. It's warped, his name. He says it and it comes out 'cat cat'.
You stare at him for a long time, both of you quiet and after a handful of minutes he signs again.
"Are you upset?"
"No." You kiss him, and you feel him smile against you. "I love you." You hugs him and let him hold you as you drift off. You wish you could say it, but hearing him say it for you was nice.