Your name is Dave Strider, and right now, you are listening to one of your best friends ramble about pudding cups.
Not just any pudding cups, chocolate-vanilla swirl pudding cups. You know, the hella kind. He is just rambling on and on about how amazingly awesome it is, being you know, swirly, while you sit on your bed, listening contently. He says something in particular that automatically catches your attention. Something so fucking ridiculous. It has it caught you off guard.
And what was this particular statement you might ask:
"oh, and by the way…I'm gay."
This comment makes your gaze shoot straight toward him, your eyebrows shooting up on your face.
"Wait what. Repeat that." You say to him, your shoulders rising slightly.
"What? Oh. Yeah. I'm gay." He says plainly, as if it's an everyday situation. You are not quite sure how to respond, so you sort of just stare at him, your jaw drooping a little. This coming from a guy that is always trying to defend his sexuality from teasing at school.
"what happen to 'I'm not a homosexual' Egbert?"
"well, I found someone to have…certain feelings for. I contemplated it, and, well, that was my conclusion. So I, John Egbert, am indeed a HOMOSEXUAL."
You stare at him with wide eyes, contemplating each word that has spilled out of his mouth.
"It's not Vantas, is it?" you ask him, a bit worried. You mean, you suppose they'd make a sorta.. kinda.. not really cute couple, but you know, whatever. He chuckles lightly in response.
"No, dude. It's not Karkat." He replies, a small smile playing on his lips. Your shoulders finally relax. Sorta.
"Oh. Cool." You reply, your cool kid facade regaining its composure. You feel a cold ball in the pit of your stomach.
"So, if it's not Vantas, who in the ever loving fuck is it? Nobody else really comes in mind." You wonder if it's a good idea to ask him who has caught his eye for a few moments, before deciding that it would probably be a bad idea.
"So, who is it?" Well, there goes common sense. You internally slap yourself across the face. By the look on his face you think you just asked the wrong question, and you think you can see a faint blush seep across his cheeks. You have to admit that you have always felt something unexplainable around your best bro, but you always push it to the back of your mind instead of sorting through all of those feelings. "fuck he looks adorable…wait, no. I did not just think that shit. Come on he's your best friend, don't start getting any ideas."
"Uh, what?" he asks you, turning his head away from you slightly. You look at him, and lower your shades on your nose to look at him better. You can see the details on his face more clearly now that those confounded, totally ironic shades are no longer hindering your sight. A sheet of awkward is slowly consuming the quiet room, and that's when…
Your name is John Egbert, and you just told your best friend that you are gay. You are currently staring at each other in an awkward atmosphere.
There's something strange lying in your bed, who you gonna call? Ghost busters!
Your phone erupts in an amazing tune in your pocket and the gaze is broken, you quietly thank the god that set your phone to interrupt at that certain moment. An awkward chuckle escapes your lips and you reach for your phone. As you answer the call, you notice Dave shift his glasses back into place out of the corner of your eye.
"Hello?" you quietly answer your phone, your gaze shifting slightly back and forth from the T.V. in front of you to the blonde man behind you.
"John?" A voice on the other line asks you.
"Uh, yeah. Rose?"
"John. I was wondering if you had informed my brother of… certain feelings that have suddenly come up?" She asks you, contemplating her words carefully. She is the only other person, other than yourself, that know of your affections towards your best friend, the only reason why that happen is because she likes to be your "psychiatrist" and put her nose in your business. And of course she isn't really Dave's sister, although they do have many similar traits.
"I'm working on it! Call back later!" you reply in a hushed tone before hanging up. You roughly turn around, not noticing that you had an untied shoelace and were stepping on it. Before you realize it, you have already fallen on the hard, carpeted ground. As you slowly lift your head, you see a little bit of red liquid on the floor and realization immediately hits you. You are bleeding because you landed on your face so hard. You sit up quickly and press a hand to your nose, pulling it away to see the red staining your hand.
"Shit.." you mutter under your breath.
"Fuck dude, are you okay?" you hear a voice from the bed above you before hearing a creek, and suddenly he is in front of you, examining your now bleeding nose. You feel your face flush when he reaches up to lightly touch your nose.
"Dude, you're bleeding." He says, leaning forward slightly to inspect it more thoroughly. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you fall backward from leaning away too far.
"Ow…" you grumble, rubbing the back of your head. When you open your eyes you don't see Dave anymore, but you see the light in his bathroom flicker on. You cautiously rise to your feet, your hand taking its place to cover your blood from dripping on the ground below your feet. "Dave? Are you okay in there, um, I kinda need paper for this. Dave?"You hear a low grumble come from his bathroom, "What was that?"
"Come in here, you're going to get your blood all over the ground."
You make your way to the restroom and see a first aid kit on the sink and Dave looking for something, a slightly worried expression on his shade- covered face. You stand in the door way, watching him rummage around.
"Uh.. Dave? What are you looking for?" you ask him and continue into the bathroom.
"I'm fucking looking for a washcloth." He tells you, his head inside one of the cabinets underneath the sink. You can't help but laugh at his awkward position.
"It's not in there, dude. It's right there." You point to the towel hanger above the toilet. You find it kind of funny that he doesn't even know the way around his own bathroom. His line of sight shifts to where you are pointing, and he sighs in relief, somewhat, before grabbing it off its hanger and gestures for you to sit on the sink. You look at him with a questioning look, but comply.
"Hold still." He says, his low voice echoing in your ears. He slowly leans closer to you carefully rising the towel up to your nose. A distinct blush dusts across your face, you realize you've been doing that a lot lately, as he lightly dabs at your nose with the towel.
"So, Egbert… you never answered my question."
"Take off your shades and I might let you know." You meant it as a joke but you don't think it sounded that way to Dave by the way he hesitated before dabbing the towel on your nose one last time. Your blush deepens as he gets closer wrapping his arms around you and that's when you realize he was just reaching for the sink. Though, you don't understand why he didn't just ask you to move off.
"Could he possibly…like me too? No! That's ridiculous, there is no way your best friend can like you the same way you like him."
And just at that moment you receive another phone call that happens to have perfect timing.
Your name is Dave Fucking Strider…and your best bro just asked you to remove your shades.
It may not seem like such a big deal for most but to you it's like asking to tell them your deepest, darkest secrets. You are extremely self conscious about them. No one other than your older brother has seen you without your shades. NO ONE.
Lucky for you though, his phone goes off again, so haha, no removing of these shades now. Just then you realize that you have wrapped your arms around him while you are rinsing the blood off of the towel, you quickly move away and walk back into your room before he can see the light blush cover your cheeks. You take a seat on your bed and let out a breathy sigh. This night is not going the way you were expecting it to.
You hear quiet mumbles coming from the bathroom, and you figure it's Egbert answering his phone again. Before long, John "swaggers" into the room, a light pink still firmly across his face.
"So, who was that?" you question, glancing at him up and down. He scratches the back of his head and takes a seat in front of you on the floor.
"Uh, Rose." He replies, biting his bottom lip slightly. God damn it, Egbert. Stop being so adorable.
"Oh god, what did Lalonde want?" you ask him, slightly worried about what your sister wants. He visibly tenses as his face turns a brighter pink.
"Uh, well you know, stuff." He tells you, an awkward smile claiming his lips. You see him suddenly take a stand in front of you, still biting his bottom lip.
"I have to go. My sister is coming home today from college, and I still have a lot of chores to do." He explains to you in a quickened voice.
Before you know it, you have him pinned against your door, his hands on each side of his head. His face gets consumed by a deep red and he looks down, slightly nibbling on his bottom lip. You blink a few times before loosening your grip on his hands and let go. With a loud thump, he falls limp on the ground. You worriedly fall to your knees and inch closer to him. You place a curled finger under his chin and lift it lightly.
Your name is John Egbert and…your crush is too close to your face.
You are currently pinned against his bedroom door and his body, a painful heat on your face causes you to drop your head. You feel him release your hands and you drop to the ground, your body losing its ability to move. You feel his finger raise her head from under your chin, slowly causing you to meet his gaze from between his shades. His face is so close his breath brushes against your chin.
"I…I can't take this anymore. I just…"
You carefully lean in, pressing your lips against his. To be completely honest with yourself, his lips are a lot softer than they look, like he's been using chap stick. You feel his body tense against yours, making you regret this entirely, but his lips are just so soft and inviting. It would be illegal to tell yourself to resist such lips. Before you have decided that this was a horrible idea and you should probably pull away, he has snaked his hand around your neck, pulling your head closer to deepen the kiss.
Well, this is happening. You are kissing your best friend. In his bedroom. Being pushing against the door. God, you hope his brother doesn't decide that this is a good time to start a strife with Dave. You both pull away slowly, you rest your forehead against the other and open your eyes; they must've closed at sometime during that amazing kiss.
"I hope this means you like me back." You say in a quiet whisper.
"Of course not, I just wanted a good macking."
You feel your heart drop in your chest.
"I'm kidding Egbert. In a non-ironic, completely serious, and non-Strider, kind of way… I like you."