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Suddenly Striders.
Dave trying to snap pictures of Bro, but Bro ALWAYS turns around before the shutter closes, so Dave has amassed a huge collection of photos of the back of Bro's head.
Once, Bro even used his extreme speed to turn his shades and hat backwards, so it's hat, glasses and blonde hair.
Dave flips his shit when he develops that one.
Like, AW COME ON.
It becomes like a game for them. Dave trying to snap pictures of him everywhere.
And always nope.
At first Bro is just being a contrary big shithead about it.
But then he starts making the pics interesting by getting things on the way right before the shutter closes.
Once he gets Lil'Cal in one of them, so fast in an out that Dave thinks he saw something but doesn't dwell on it.
Forgets about it.
Is scared shitless when he's developing it.
SUDDENLY LIL'CAL. He might have screamed a little.
Dave starts thinking the back of Bro's head is kind of nice.
Which is a weird fixation to have.
Tries to get Bro out the bathroom leaving the shower.
Bro is one of those people who wears a hand towel to roll around his hips, because big fluffy towels are Dave's thing.
So Dave snaps pics as fast as he can.
But when he develops them Bro has the towel over his own face.
Like a bad attempt at a Halloween costume with a too short sheet.
Maybe even has the shades in their proper place OVER it.
The pic doesn't really show anything bellow that delicious V on his abdomen.
And it's a shame.
No wait, it's not a shame, what the actual fuck, Dave.
Bro decides to raise the stakes of this whole pic tag game.
Because it's fun as hell in a way. And it's good training for Dave's flashstepping skills.
So one day Dave is developing his pics and there is one he doesn't recognize, or better, he does too well.
It's a pic of him, drinking apple juice in the kitchen, hip checked against the counter. Lighting could be better, but the composition is pretty nice -- wait WAHT.
Motherfucker.
When the fuck did he DO this.
Dave stalks off the room, trying to find Bro, but of course he ain't around.
There is a damned post it on the fridge though.
Reads: Bro 1 Dave 0.
This goes on for quite some time. Dave starts noticing when Bro's around, actually manages to get seven profile pics of Bro, and Bro just got another three full pics of Dave - he's getting better.
Starts using smuppets to ALSO bodge Bro's pics.
Then one day, after Bro had a gig and got home shit late, Dave goes out of his room and sees him passed out on the couch, just dead to the world.
Sleeping peacefully.
Dave's blood sings in his veins, getting him all tingly, because this is a great opportunity, he has the chance to win this shit, this is the chance.
He’s almost positive that Bro is gonna wake up before the shutter goes off, but he has to try.
His photographer's soul is checking the lighting, the way Bro’s lips are barely open, how his arm's position, with his hand behind his head, is a nice one. How dawn's light frames his angular features making them even more so, the game of shades on his face triggering the words “dormant strength” in Dave’s mind - so very BRO it's crazy.
And.
He doesn't take the shot.
He just doesn't take the shot, because that would mean they would be tied, and this would be the end of their little game, and he doesn’t want that to end.
Doesn’t want Bro to stop paying attention to him, doesn't want to stop having an excuse to try and snap pictures of Bro for a purpose other than one-upmanship because that is a valid, safe and totally alright reason.
When in reality it’s everything but by this point.
The realization leaves him kinda reeling.
Fretting Dave enters scene.
Bro notices that Dave seems to be holding back. Almost as if disinterested? And starts feeling marginally like a bigger dick.
Bigger dick than usual.
Doesn't know what's going on, and then is kinda pissed because it seems like Dave gave up, if we see this like training, but in the end he is just kind of sad that Dave is slowly drifting away from him again - even worse now it seems.
Dave is still having a small aneurysm every time he thinks about that lost shot.
Not because of the lost shot, but because of what he saw there and what it stirred in him.
Conflicted and paradoxical situation, because he didn't take the shot because he didn't want the game to end, but in the end, him not taking it WAS what ended it.
The feeling behind it was what killed the game.
In a way.
Bro, for all the daily badassery, can't think of a way to fix this.
He's more of an action man, so he just wings it.
And by this I mean he clearly "steals" one of Dave's cameras and stops close to Dave when he's in the kitchen and just snaps a pic without even trying to be stealthy.
Which kind of works, because if Bro's making noise Dave knows he's there and that means, usually, no shit will happen.
He just says, "Sup" and Dave looks up and FLASH.
Dave's half pissed by now, because don't you understand what this has been doing to me, how honed I've been on you lately, in all your motions and glances of your face and you, you dickface why the fuck are you making me feel like this. He doesn't say it, but his mind is reeling and it's a pokerface competition.
Tension.
Dave's just, aw fuck it, bad decisions are youth's prerogative. And goes to take the camera from Bro. And Bro lets him. Which is weird. But this is important, it feels important.
So he just takes it, points it up slowly. But before it even reaches his face, he just, BAD DECISIONS and uses his other hand to grab Bro by his polo shirt and pull him down to mash a really bad excuse for a kiss on Bro's lips.
Eyes shut tight, heels off the floor a bit because Bro leaned down a tad at the pull, but he's still taller.
Breathes out a clicker sound with his tongue on the roof of his mouth, against Bro’s lips.
Snop.