Chapter Text
-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --
[TT]: How goes the pursuit of one John Egbert?
[TG]: ugh dont remind me
[TG]: its like at every turn i come up against a dead end and a pit trap all at once
[TG]: do you know what thats like rose???
[TG]: to barely catch yourself in time before you fall into the pit full of spikes and venomous snakes and have to backtrack except oh wait theres nowhere for you to go to because the entire goddamn floor is peppered with these fucking pits
[TG]: jfc i mean where would someone even get that many snakes???
[TT]: Dave.
[TG]: what
[TT]: You're rambling again.
[TG]: soz
[TT]: I think I can forgive you, especially given your current state of frustration. Have you perhaps given thought to abandoning this futile effort?
[TG]: thats not funny
[TT]: I had not intended for it to be humorous.
[TG]: no
[TG]: just
[TG]: no
[TT]: Why not?
[TG]: because okay
[TT]: I propose a bet.
[TG]: youre gonna lose
[TT]: Don't be so quick to jump to conclusions. I am willing to bet that you have a better chance at seducing John's father than you do at seducing John himself.
[TG]: what
[TG]: seriously???
[TG]: okay this is on rose
[TG]: and btw fuck you
-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --
Dave rubbed his face, trying not to think about what Rose had said. Going after John, futile... Sure, it was something he'd thought of every now and then, but she didn't have to rub it in his face like that.
John's dad was the most straight-laced, boring man in the entire universe, and anyone who hadn't been deluding himself for years (like John) could see that. Saying he was easier to seduce than his son was just... ugh.
Rose probably didn't even expect him to take the bet seriously. It would be just like her, too. But maybe going after someone else could at least distract Dave from harboring unrequited feelings and completely filthy ideas about his best friend. But he wasn't quite sure if it would be worth Rose and her smug "I told you so" attitude.
"Oh my god. Dave, are you complaining about my movies to Rose again?" John tried to lean over Dave's shoulder, reaching for the lid of the laptop when it was turned away from him.
"Dude, Jesus fuck, no I'm not complaining about your shitty movie collection to her. Go back to masturbating over Nic Cage's... okay I'll give you some props Sorcerer's Apprentice ain't half bad, but only because of the bad guy all right? Dude. Stop. No. I swear to God I am not complaining about the movie, dammit. John, let go!"
Dave finally yanked his laptop away from John, closing the lid and shoving it away into his sylladex. "Can't a guy get any privacy around here?"
John rolled his eyes and shoved Dave off the bed onto the floor, not even flinching at the string of curses Dave lobbied at him. "Well, you come over to my place, stay in my bed, and ignore me in favor of complaining to Rose! I'd say I have a right to read over your shoulder!"
The effect of shooting a nasty look at someone was completely ruined when it was covered up by an ever-present pair of shades. But Dave did it anyways, because it made him feel a little better about having his privacy crushed like that. "Whatever. You keep watching wizards play DBZ with each other and I'll go get myself a drink."
"Bring me back a Coke!"
"Sure. What kind?"
"Oh my God, Dave, don't start that. You know what I mean!" Dave dodged a flying pillow and ducked out of the bedroom to go down to the kitchen.
The Egbert household was nothing if not well-stocked on various goodies and edible awesomeness. There was no need to hide food away (even though he still did from time to time), and rummaging through the fridge didn't require dodging a dozen shitty swords lest one impale the opener through the chest. The only real downside that Dave could think of was that it took for-fucking-ever to find something to munch on.
While he was poking around and trying to figure out whether the necessary ingredients for hot cocoa would be too much trouble to get to, Dave heard the soft padding of footsteps. Instinctively, he tensed up, prepared for a strife. But then he remembered that hey, that shit didn't happen in the Egbert house, no matter how much John insisted that prank battles were real strifes.
"Are you all right, David?" John's dad had a rich, smooth voice that always reminded Dave of something he could never really have, even if he didn't know what that was. It was something warm and normal, not covered in layers of irony and pornographic puppet ass.
The usual metaphors Dave might have made would earn him a stern lecture, and he really didn't feel like that, so he went with time-tested, Dad-friendly ones. Much as it pained him to use them. "Cool as a cucumber. Just getting something to drink."
"You've been out here for ten minutes. John asked if you had fallen." Jesus, had it really been that much time? Dave checked the background ticking and frowned when he found out, yeah, it had been.
"Sorry 'bout that. Just can't make up my mind."
He nearly jumped when a hand grabbed his shoulder, and for a split second Dave almost went for his sword. Christ, why couldn't he just be a normal teenager already? That was all he wanted - no strifes on the roof, no jumping at every little thing because of a stupid fucking game...
"Are you sure? You always seem to look through our refrigerator whenever you're upset."
God, no. He couldn't take that. Not the Dad-voice. Not after Rose had already rattled him up. "M'fine." Dave mumbled. Of course he mumbled. It was exactly the sort of thing he shouldn't have done.
"Do you get enough to eat at home?"
That almost made Dave want to laugh. Of course he didn't get enough to eat at home. He lived on a diet of frozen burritos, Easy Mac, and occasional take-out, supplemented by whatever he could get for free at the school cafeteria because Bro forgot to give him some cash. But he dealt with it, because complaining didn't really do anything. But that wasn't the problem.
"S'not that. It..." Dave's bullshit excuse was cut short by a warm, fatherly embrace. He shivered a little at the unfamiliar contact before some part of him took over and hugged back as tight as he could.
"I know you're not my son, but I'm still very proud of you." The words were quiet and warm, so close to his ear that it made his entire body tingle. But there was something more to it, something that Dave desperately needed.
It wasn't until he was given a couple cans of Coca-Cola and gently pushed towards the stairs that Dave snapped out of it. He stayed quiet and let John ramble on and on about the intricacies of The Sorcerer's Apprentice and how it's another of Nic Cage's many gifts to humanity and blah blah blah.
Maybe John wasn't what he really wanted.
There was really only one way to find out.
Dave acted purely on impulse, hoping that one way or another he could at least get things straightened out for good. He yanked John closer and mashed their lips together. It was clumsy and almost kind of painful because he was sure their teeth clacked together.
And then it was painful, because fucking hell, John had just punched him right in the goddamn nose. "What the hell, Dave?"
Dear God, was his nose broken? It felt broken. And there was blood. "I..."
"Get out. Just... go sleep on the couch." John threw the spare blankets at him, and Dave felt like he was going to be sick.
"Good fucking going, numbnuts, you just lost yourself your best friend. What the hell was that even about, anyways? Just had to prove to yourself that you had the balls to go through with it, did you? Now you're never gonna be allowed over again." Dave mumbled to himself as he dragged the covers out to the couch, curling up and trying to stop his nosebleed.
He was not going to cry. He was not going to cry. Crying was for wimps and pussies and he was neither.
"Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, you stupid jackass..." Dave put his sunglasses on the side table and pulled the blankets over his head so no one had to see him bawling like a goddamn little girl if they passed by the couch.