HOME | DD

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

~A/N~ (This is Post!Sburb, with game memories partly Scratched, Guardians alive.) ~A/N~

-Be the dork.-

     It was here. It was finally here. That fateful day you had been obsessing over for at least a month.
     Today, Dave Strider, your best bro in the entire universe, was coming to visit you. Traveling all the way from Texas to Washington just to hang out with you for a week. It would be the first time that you met him face-to-face, rather than through Pesterchum, the chat application you both used religiously. You insisted on staying home while your dad picked him up from the airport, which Strider took as one of you attempts to be "cool and ironic," but really, it was so you could decorate the house! Your dad had already baked a cake, much to your chagrin (ALL FEAR THE BATTERWITCH), and so you decided you'd complete the task and really make this a party.
     Blue and red streamers were...well...everywhere. Matching confetti covered the floor, a genuine accident, but it ended up looking festive anyways. You put the bunny Dave had given you for your birthday by your yellow salamander Casey, who you had named on a silly whim. It was perfectly ironic, or at least you thought it was. Hopefully Dave would appreciate it as much as you did.
     You were glaring at the cake, trying to decide what to do next, when the idea hit you like an unabridged version of Colonel's Sassacre's Daunting Text. You chuckled to yourself as you rifled through your stuff, looking for materials. A few minutes, a can of whipped cream, and a stepladder later, it was complete. The Prankster's Gambit would be ever in your favor. The ultimate prankster. It was you.
     All you could do was smile as the car pulled up the driveway. Dave Strider was about to get the welcome of a lifetime.

-Now be the coolkid.-

     You almost breathed a sigh of relief as the car pulled up the driveway, thankful that the ride was over. It has been awkward as hell, John's dad sitting in the front seat, silently judging you as you sat in the back and flipped through your iPod. He hadn't even said anything to you in the airport, just gave you the once-over and nodded, holding his hand out for a shake. You hope you didn't seem like a total wuss when you shook it, as you were intimidated by that piercing blue gaze. It was strange, though - when you saw that gaze, there was a part of you that wondered if John had eyes that were the same blue. You just brushed it off as nervousness, but now, as you got closer to the house, it nagged at you.
     The nagging didn't go away as you stepped out, looking up at the house that was very different from your apartment. In your extremely derpy distraction, you failed to notice that John's dad had grabbed your things for you. Feeling uncool (but only for a second), you walked up the stairs to the front door. Seeing that it was slightly ajar, and being the coolkid you were, you pushed it open and-

     -suddenly, you couldn't see anything. Your vision was obstructed by something that had spontaneously fallen on your head. A bucket, namely. And it wasn't just a bucket. There was something else too, something wet and sticky that was now entrenched it your perfect bleach blond hair. You were going to kill that fucking little derp. He was laughing, snorting, probably at the sight of you, the coolkid, with a bucket on his head.
    Even though you should have been absolutely fucking furious, a small smile crept over the stoic pokerface you usually wore. There was something about his laugh that made this... almost endearing.
    That pokerface snapped right back at that ridiculously uncool, or what you thought was uncool, idea. What in the hell was going on in there? Before you brain took a flying flip off the fucking handle, you slowly took the bucket off your head.
    You almost drowned when you met those blue eyes.

-Be the derp again.-

     Dave's pokerface was absolutely classic as he slowly (ironically!) took the bucket off his head, the whipped cream all over his hair. You couldn't help but burst into another laughing fit, snorts and all. He was just so... adorable like that wait what was that thought there?
     It was rudely interrupted by Dave's voice cutting through your little bout of snickering, southern
accent thin and tone cool and ironic. "Very fucking funny, Egderp." You stopped laughing and looked up at him, (kind of?) meeting his eyes through the shades he wore. They were the same shades you had given him for his birthday, which made you happy beyond measure. "This is your idea of a spectacular welcome?"
     You stopped chuckling, the effects of prankster satisfaction wearing off. "Surprise!" you cried, walking forward and giving him a hug. He was stiff as he accepted it, and you could feel one of his arms move. At that moment, you should've jumped back, but you didn't, and so whipped cream was now also entrenched in your hair. Pulling back, you laughed, reaching up to wipe it off. "Dave! Not fair!"
     "That was totally fucking fair. You were the one who landed a bucket full of it on my head. Didn't you know this shit was holy?" he asked, gesturing at his hair. "You have desecrated the monument that is Strider's hair."
     Rolling your eyes, you took a step back. There was something about you that felt strange when you were close to him, and you weren't sure how to place it yet. "I offer my completely penitence in the form of a shower, once I show you around my place!" Grabbing him by the arm, you led him around, showing him the kitchen (evil cake and all) and the living room. He commented on how it looked like 3D glasses had shattered and been rearranged around you house, which made you laugh. You pulled him upstairs, pointing out the bathroom, and ending in your room. You pointed out your salamander with the bunny, and he actually smiled.
     "Looks like my student as learned well," he said, ruffling your hair, only making the whipped cream situation worse. In spite of that, you cracked your best bucktooth grin in return.
     "You are free to shower now, o holy Strider," you said, giving a small bow. He just snorted and asked for a towel, which you got out of the cabinet in the hallway. He walked into the bathroom, closing the door gently, and you walked back to your room, grinning like an absolute derp. Flopping down on your bed, you closed your eyes, daydreaming of the week to come.
     It was going to be a good week. You were sure of it.

-Back to the ironic one.-

     You were almost losing your shit as you washed your hair, leaning over the tub with a towel around your neck. Those blue eyes practically ruled your brain as you tried to scrub the thoughts and whipped cream out of your head. You already knew you weren't entirely straight, but godammit, this was just uncool. Going for your best bro (who often insisted that he was not a homo) was just all kinds of wrong on so many unironic levels. Resisting the urge to bash your head against a mirror, you towel dried your hair, not really caring what happened to it at this point. Throwing the towel over your neck and your shirt on, you calmly walked out of the bathroom, entirely distracted by the images in your head.
     The little derp was laying back on his bed when you entered him room, smiling like an idiot. He looked over at you when you walked in, and his jaw dropped. You were about to ask why when you realized what had happened.
     In your distraction, you had left your sunglasses on the bathroom counter.

-Quickly, back to the Egderp!-

     Holy hell.
     One minute, you're staring at the ceiling, and the next, you were staring right into Strider's eyes. Strider's ruby red eyes. Your jaw took a trip downwards, you couldn't help it! Those eyes were so... so... electrifying. Even if Nicholas Cage had showed up, right at that moment, he wouldn't have held a candle to Dave's gaze.
     Strider looked confused for a moment, and then it dawned in his face. He turned to go, and you were brought out of your reverie. You leaped up, going after him. "Dave, wait!"
     "Fuck off, Egbert." You hated the tone of his voice, which was filled with shame. Why was he so ashamed of those eyes?
     "No, wait!" You caught his arm, spinning him around. His face was contorted in an expression of self-hatred, and your heart twisted a bit. Perhaps your reaction wasn't exactly tactful. "Why are you so upset about this?" Shit, way to be helpful, Egbert!
     "God damn it John, let me go. I already saw your face, I'll just put the fucking shades back on, so you don't have to look at them anymore." He turned away, tugging at your grip.
     You held fast, determined. Your heart was still twisting, contorting, and you knew you had to make this right. You tread gently, your voice low and quiet. "Dave... I'm not afraid of your eyes."
     The tugging stopped almost instantaneously, and the red eyes faced you once again. "What?"
     "I said, I'm not afraid of your eyes. In fact..." You bit your lip, looking down, your brain going a million directions at once. You mumbled and slurred your next sentence. "Ithinkthey'rereallypretty." There, it was out.
     "What did you say John? I couldn't make out a fucking word you said."
     Or not. You took a deep breath, the million directions at war. Some asked what in the hell you were doing, you were not a homo, this wasn't right! Some responded... some responded that it was right. You had thought about it, and with your best bro right in front of you, you couldn't ignore that cry anymore. Strider had been there for you, through... everything. Even in your dreams, which was a blur of color and adventure, he was there, saving your sorry ass. He put up with your antics, your love for absolutely shitty movies, and your fear of the Batterwitch that was Betty Crocker. After a minute, Dave intruded your thoughts again.
     "John? Are you in there?"
     When you looked back up and saw his face, eyebrows knitted together in concern, that cry in your head won out. "I think your eyes are really pretty, Dave."
     Strider gave you this funny look, like he was happy and sad and confused, all at once. A spark went off in his eyes, almost unnoticeable, but you caught it. Then he raised the arm you weren't holding onto, cupped your face, leaned in and-
     ohmyfuckinggod he kissed you.

-Coolkid.-

     You couldn't help it. He was just... god, there weren't words for this. When those words tumbled out of his mouth, you nearly had a fucking heart attack, that's how much it surprised you. You drowned in those blue eyes of his and... that's how you ended up here. Kissing him like the world was fucking ending.

-Derp.-

     Your brain had ceased to function as "ohmygod" continued to ring throughout the rafters that was your thought process.

-Coolkid.-

     After a while, you felt Egbert kind of slumping, and you pulled away. His bright blue eyes were wide, and his mouth open in shock. He tried to speak, which was absolutely fucking adorable, because all he could get out was "Um." Shit, he needed to stop, before you keeled over from cute diabetes. R.I.P. Strider, victim of one of the cutest boys who ever lived. You had to half drag him back onto his bed, where he laid down and stared at the ceiling, grinning. You waved your hand in front of his face, and he turned back to you, still smiling.
     "That... that was amazing." You gave him a twitch of a smile, and somehow, his grin got wider.
     "Thought you weren't a homo, Egbert," you teased, smirking wider. He threw a pillow at your face, which you easily caught, laughing.
     "Fuck you, Strider, it was your hypnotizing gaze that put me under your spell!" He wiggled his hands at you, being adorable again, and you kissed him on the forehead, making him blush.
     "I think this will be a fun week," you said with a chuckle, laying back next to John.
     "Yeah," he agreed, clinging onto your side as you petted his hair. "It will."

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

~A/N~ (This is Post!Sburb, with game memories partly Scratched, Guardians alive.) ~A/N~

-Be the dork.-

     It was here. It was finally here. That fateful day you had been obsessing over for at least a month.
     Today, Dave Strider, your best bro in the entire universe, was coming to visit you. Traveling all the way from Texas to Washington just to hang out with you for a week. It would be the first time that you met him face-to-face, rather than through Pesterchum, the chat application you both used religiously. You insisted on staying home while your dad picked him up from the airport, which Strider took as one of you attempts to be "cool and ironic," but really, it was so you could decorate the house! Your dad had already baked a cake, much to your chagrin (ALL FEAR THE BATTERWITCH), and so you decided you'd complete the task and really make this a party.
     Blue and red streamers were...well...everywhere. Matching confetti covered the floor, a genuine accident, but it ended up looking festive anyways. You put the bunny Dave had given you for your birthday by your yellow salamander Casey, who you had named on a silly whim. It was perfectly ironic, or at least you thought it was. Hopefully Dave would appreciate it as much as you did.
     You were glaring at the cake, trying to decide what to do next, when the idea hit you like an unabridged version of Colonel's Sassacre's Daunting Text. You chuckled to yourself as you rifled through your stuff, looking for materials. A few minutes, a can of whipped cream, and a stepladder later, it was complete. The Prankster's Gambit would be ever in your favor. The ultimate prankster. It was you.
     All you could do was smile as the car pulled up the driveway. Dave Strider was about to get the welcome of a lifetime.

-Now be the coolkid.-

     You almost breathed a sigh of relief as the car pulled up the driveway, thankful that the ride was over. It has been awkward as hell, John's dad sitting in the front seat, silently judging you as you sat in the back and flipped through your iPod. He hadn't even said anything to you in the airport, just gave you the once-over and nodded, holding his hand out for a shake. You hope you didn't seem like a total wuss when you shook it, as you were intimidated by that piercing blue gaze. It was strange, though - when you saw that gaze, there was a part of you that wondered if John had eyes that were the same blue. You just brushed it off as nervousness, but now, as you got closer to the house, it nagged at you.
     The nagging didn't go away as you stepped out, looking up at the house that was very different from your apartment. In your extremely derpy distraction, you failed to notice that John's dad had grabbed your things for you. Feeling uncool (but only for a second), you walked up the stairs to the front door. Seeing that it was slightly ajar, and being the coolkid you were, you pushed it open and-

     -suddenly, you couldn't see anything. Your vision was obstructed by something that had spontaneously fallen on your head. A bucket, namely. And it wasn't just a bucket. There was something else too, something wet and sticky that was now entrenched it your perfect bleach blond hair. You were going to kill that fucking little derp. He was laughing, snorting, probably at the sight of you, the coolkid, with a bucket on his head.
    Even though you should have been absolutely fucking furious, a small smile crept over the stoic pokerface you usually wore. There was something about his laugh that made this... almost endearing.
    That pokerface snapped right back at that ridiculously uncool, or what you thought was uncool, idea. What in the hell was going on in there? Before you brain took a flying flip off the fucking handle, you slowly took the bucket off your head.
    You almost drowned when you met those blue eyes.

-Be the derp again.-

     Dave's pokerface was absolutely classic as he slowly (ironically!) took the bucket off his head, the whipped cream all over his hair. You couldn't help but burst into another laughing fit, snorts and all. He was just so... adorable like that wait what was that thought there?
     It was rudely interrupted by Dave's voice cutting through your little bout of snickering, southern
accent thin and tone cool and ironic. "Very fucking funny, Egderp." You stopped laughing and looked up at him, (kind of?) meeting his eyes through the shades he wore. They were the same shades you had given him for his birthday, which made you happy beyond measure. "This is your idea of a spectacular welcome?"
     You stopped chuckling, the effects of prankster satisfaction wearing off. "Surprise!" you cried, walking forward and giving him a hug. He was stiff as he accepted it, and you could feel one of his arms move. At that moment, you should've jumped back, but you didn't, and so whipped cream was now also entrenched in your hair. Pulling back, you laughed, reaching up to wipe it off. "Dave! Not fair!"
     "That was totally fucking fair. You were the one who landed a bucket full of it on my head. Didn't you know this shit was holy?" he asked, gesturing at his hair. "You have desecrated the monument that is Strider's hair."
     Rolling your eyes, you took a step back. There was something about you that felt strange when you were close to him, and you weren't sure how to place it yet. "I offer my completely penitence in the form of a shower, once I show you around my place!" Grabbing him by the arm, you led him around, showing him the kitchen (evil cake and all) and the living room. He commented on how it looked like 3D glasses had shattered and been rearranged around you house, which made you laugh. You pulled him upstairs, pointing out the bathroom, and ending in your room. You pointed out your salamander with the bunny, and he actually smiled.
     "Looks like my student as learned well," he said, ruffling your hair, only making the whipped cream situation worse. In spite of that, you cracked your best bucktooth grin in return.
     "You are free to shower now, o holy Strider," you said, giving a small bow. He just snorted and asked for a towel, which you got out of the cabinet in the hallway. He walked into the bathroom, closing the door gently, and you walked back to your room, grinning like an absolute derp. Flopping down on your bed, you closed your eyes, daydreaming of the week to come.
     It was going to be a good week. You were sure of it.

-Back to the ironic one.-

     You were almost losing your shit as you washed your hair, leaning over the tub with a towel around your neck. Those blue eyes practically ruled your brain as you tried to scrub the thoughts and whipped cream out of your head. You already knew you weren't entirely straight, but godammit, this was just uncool. Going for your best bro (who often insisted that he was not a homo) was just all kinds of wrong on so many unironic levels. Resisting the urge to bash your head against a mirror, you towel dried your hair, not really caring what happened to it at this point. Throwing the towel over your neck and your shirt on, you calmly walked out of the bathroom, entirely distracted by the images in your head.
     The little derp was laying back on his bed when you entered him room, smiling like an idiot. He looked over at you when you walked in, and his jaw dropped. You were about to ask why when you realized what had happened.
     In your distraction, you had left your sunglasses on the bathroom counter.

-Quickly, back to the Egderp!-

     Holy hell.
     One minute, you're staring at the ceiling, and the next, you were staring right into Strider's eyes. Strider's ruby red eyes. Your jaw took a trip downwards, you couldn't help it! Those eyes were so... so... electrifying. Even if Nicholas Cage had showed up, right at that moment, he wouldn't have held a candle to Dave's gaze.
     Strider looked confused for a moment, and then it dawned in his face. He turned to go, and you were brought out of your reverie. You leaped up, going after him. "Dave, wait!"
     "Fuck off, Egbert." You hated the tone of his voice, which was filled with shame. Why was he so ashamed of those eyes?
     "No, wait!" You caught his arm, spinning him around. His face was contorted in an expression of self-hatred, and your heart twisted a bit. Perhaps your reaction wasn't exactly tactful. "Why are you so upset about this?" Shit, way to be helpful, Egbert!
     "God damn it John, let me go. I already saw your face, I'll just put the fucking shades back on, so you don't have to look at them anymore." He turned away, tugging at your grip.
     You held fast, determined. Your heart was still twisting, contorting, and you knew you had to make this right. You tread gently, your voice low and quiet. "Dave... I'm not afraid of your eyes."
     The tugging stopped almost instantaneously, and the red eyes faced you once again. "What?"
     "I said, I'm not afraid of your eyes. In fact..." You bit your lip, looking down, your brain going a million directions at once. You mumbled and slurred your next sentence. "Ithinkthey'rereallypretty." There, it was out.
     "What did you say John? I couldn't make out a fucking word you said."
     Or not. You took a deep breath, the million directions at war. Some asked what in the hell you were doing, you were not a homo, this wasn't right! Some responded... some responded that it was right. You had thought about it, and with your best bro right in front of you, you couldn't ignore that cry anymore. Strider had been there for you, through... everything. Even in your dreams, which was a blur of color and adventure, he was there, saving your sorry ass. He put up with your antics, your love for absolutely shitty movies, and your fear of the Batterwitch that was Betty Crocker. After a minute, Dave intruded your thoughts again.
     "John? Are you in there?"
     When you looked back up and saw his face, eyebrows knitted together in concern, that cry in your head won out. "I think your eyes are really pretty, Dave."
     Strider gave you this funny look, like he was happy and sad and confused, all at once. A spark went off in his eyes, almost unnoticeable, but you caught it. Then he raised the arm you weren't holding onto, cupped your face, leaned in and-
     ohmyfuckinggod he kissed you.

-Coolkid.-

     You couldn't help it. He was just... god, there weren't words for this. When those words tumbled out of his mouth, you nearly had a fucking heart attack, that's how much it surprised you. You drowned in those blue eyes of his and... that's how you ended up here. Kissing him like the world was fucking ending.

-Derp.-

     Your brain had ceased to function as "ohmygod" continued to ring throughout the rafters that was your thought process.

-Coolkid.-

     After a while, you felt Egbert kind of slumping, and you pulled away. His bright blue eyes were wide, and his mouth open in shock. He tried to speak, which was absolutely fucking adorable, because all he could get out was "Um." Shit, he needed to stop, before you keeled over from cute diabetes. R.I.P. Strider, victim of one of the cutest boys who ever lived. You had to half drag him back onto his bed, where he laid down and stared at the ceiling, grinning. You waved your hand in front of his face, and he turned back to you, still smiling.
     "That... that was amazing." You gave him a twitch of a smile, and somehow, his grin got wider.
     "Thought you weren't a homo, Egbert," you teased, smirking wider. He threw a pillow at your face, which you easily caught, laughing.
     "Fuck you, Strider, it was your hypnotizing gaze that put me under your spell!" He wiggled his hands at you, being adorable again, and you kissed him on the forehead, making him blush.
     "I think this will be a fun week," you said with a chuckle, laying back next to John.
     "Yeah," he agreed, clinging onto your side as you petted his hair. "It will."