Work Text:
You didn’t really realize that you preferred a type in guys until you got them into the same room. To be fair, your type in girls was something along the lines of “Smarter than me and could probably kick my fucking ass in a fight”, but you were also fairly sure that that was everyone’s type in girls. At least. Everyone sensible.
Still, it takes having them in the same shitty apartment to realize that Dave and Sollux are indeed assholes of a feather, and you’re not entirely certain what that says about you and-slash-or your hypothetical taste in guys. You’re pretty sure it’s not good, possibly in all caps with multiple curse words interspersed.
The fact that they seem to be sizing each other up is more worrying (and hot) than you’re willing to admit.
Someone needs to write a guide. Someone probably has written a guide, buried in the depths of deviantArt, someone’s middle school shame full of capslock, “omg so random!!!!”, and XD XD XD literally fucking everywhere. They’ve titled it HOW TO HANDLE HAVING BOTH YOUR BOYFRIENDS IN THE SAME ROOM AT ONCE XD XD. The caps are mandatory. The secondary title is probably some reference to whatever fandom they were in when they shat out that pièce de résistance. Possibly a mention of one of their anime boyfriendos or waifus. You’re not sure.
The fact that you’re still considering using some Google Fu to find that fucking guide ought to be an indicator of exactly how deep down this shitty ass rabbit hole you are.
So you’ve got both your sort-of boyfriends in the room at the same time, and they seem to be done giving each other the pre-fight once over, and so far they haven’t moved on to the actual fight. You’re going to take that as a good omen.
You’ve also hidden literally every fucking mildly competitive video game you own, but we’re not going to go pointing fingers here. Not after the Great Mario Kart War of ‘16.
The doorbell rings, and you nearly topple out of your seat in relief. Knowing the three of you could each put away a pizza over the course of a few hours meant there was no fuss over toppings, and right now, you were willing to count each and every one of the small blessings.
You practically throw the money (plus tip, you’re not a heathen) at the poor delivery guy, scooping the pizzas up and neatly hooking the door with your foot to slam it behind you. “Who’s hungry?”
Also, you’re reasonably sure this is the first time someone’s spoken since the introductions.
Dave relieves you of the top pie and checks under the lid before passing it on to Sollux. Yours is the next one, and your nerves make you fumble the trade—time slows, and you get to watch your mushroom, ham, and olive pie tumble to the ground—Dave’s hand snaps out and snags the box, face up and everything, and he gives you the smuggest smirk.
“Nice,” says Sollux, without even the slightest hint of sarcasm, and Dave offers him a fistbump. Somehow, you can breathe again.
So you’re not sure what possessed you to suggest a movie night, but it’s not going terrible? Scratch that, you know exactly what possessed you, you’re a romcom-loving movie nerd, and your only claim to decency is that your taste in movies is slightly less shit-awful than Egbert’s or English’s.
You need better friends.
Either way, the three of you narrow your choices down. The Perfect Score, Accepted, or Hitch. You’re fairly sure they’re attempting to butter you up when Hitch is the unanimous choice of the night, but honestly, you’re not going to read too much into it. Besides, a romcom with Will Smith? Cinema doesn’t get much better than that.
Also, you’re not sure if the ban on Sollux watching hacker movies is still in effect. To be fair, it was high school, and you were all even more shitty than you are now, but to be fair, you don’t doubt that he’d spend the entire movie shredding all of the characters and whispering “I’m in” every time someone opened a door.
You still remember Source Code. You have nightmares about watching Source Code. In the theaters. With Sollux Captor.
A shudder runs down your spine, and Dave slings an arm around your shoulders, while Sollux leans against you slightly more. You sort of resent that you’re shorter than the both of them, but at the same time, it’s sort of...nice, to have them looking after you.
That’s another thing, you remember, just a bit late. Assholes of a feather, yeah, but they’re also probably the most caring people in their respective friend groups, and the giant one you’d all sort of mashed together post high school. Dave would, and has, done just about anything for his friends, including driving approximately ten hours overnight to another state because someone had a bad breakup. Sollux, for all of his bluster and attitude, once called a teacher on the carpet so hard they cried because they’d been consistently giving someone undeserved bad grades as a “punishment”.
They try. That’s the common theme, you realize, they try even when they think it’s hopeless, they try even when they’re sure they’re going to fail, they’re the most fucking altruistic people that you’ve known in your entire life, and right now, you’re feeling all kinds of lucky to have them both here, and–
And of-fucking-course you burst into tears. Of fucking course you have to get emotional over something like this. Sollux swears and scoops you into a hug (you're a little startled, he usually pretends to be more fussy about snuggling), and while you’re not sure that Dave didn’t blur from moving so fast, he’s back with tissues and a blanket to throw over the three of you before you know it. Someone pauses the movie, and they settle you across both of their laps while you try to stifle the sniffles.
It’s so stupid , you think, while they talk over your head, trying to work out what exactly upset you. You’ve known them for ages. You’ve all hung out in groups before. You’re not entirely sure which past Karkat got you worked up into a frenzy of “but you’re dating both of them now so it’ll be different and horrible”, but you’re going to invent time travel so you can go back and punch him.
For now, you settle for wiping your stupid face off and kissing them both. Happy ending, just like that. Fucking suck it, Duncan Jones.