It was an unusually brisk day in Houston. On top of a metal skeleton, in the middle of the city, sat a small, bizarre home. On the roof of this home, a young man stood. Waiting. He held a sword in one hand, while the other dangled at his side. His eyes were closed, though no one would ever know it; his eyes were concealed behind his most prized possession: a pair of sunglasses he received from his best friend. The wind whipped up slightly, tousling his short blonde hair and nipping at his pale skin.

Suddenly, Dave felt something. After sixteen years of living with his older brother, Dirk, he had learned to anticipate strife at any time. This time, however, was different. This strife was planned. So, Dave was waiting, and what he was waiting for was now flash-stepping on his left. Dave was ready. The blow came quickly, but slow enough to block. Then, his brother was gone in a flash. Dirk was toying with him – Dave knew that – but this strife was different from all the others. Dirk didn't want to fight, he wanted to wear Dave out. To weaken his resolve. He wanted Dave to admit a fact that he refused to admit even to himself. Dave wasn't ready to talk to his brother. Not yet. For now, he just wanted to strife.

This time, he felt a presence behind him, and did an abrupt 180 to meet his brother's blade. Their eyes locked through their respective shades for a brief moment, and then Dirk was gone again, leaving behind Lil Cal. Creepy-ass puppet, Dave thought to himself. He didn't mean that, really – Lil Cal is the only puppet of his brother's that Dave didn't really mind – but right now he was pissed. And depressed, though he had no intention of admitting that. Dirk, however, seemed keen on extracting an admission. Dave, however, wasn't going down without a fight.

==== Dave: Skip back a couple weeks.

It was a blazing hot day in Houston. In a small house atop metal stilts in the middle of the city, sat a bored Dave Strider. The school year had just finished, and now came the long months of summer. For Dave, this meant another summer of destroying fellow teenagers and grown men on Xbox Live, writing new raps, a little music mixing when the mood struck him, strifing with Dirk whenever Dirk decided it was time, and of course being utterly bored. Currently, Dave was watching My Little Pony (ironically, of course) on the TV in the living room, when his phone buzzed, alerting him to new messages on Pesterchum.

EB: Hey Dave!

TG: yo egbert whats up

EB: Not much, I'm kinda bored right now actually haha. But, that's all about to change! Are you busy right now?

TG: what of course im busy egbert who do you think i am. ive always got plans up my sleeve, writing my raps, lighting some sick fires, beating away all my adoring fans with brooms, it's a hard life being me.

EB: So, you're not busy then, good!

Dave lifts his head from his phone as he hears a knock on the door.

TG: hey id love to continue this highly interesting conversation but theres someone here.

EB: hehehe :B

Dave puts his phone down, not seeing John's last message, stands from the couch, mutes the TV with the remote, and goes to find out who the hell is at the door at seven in the evening. Dave opens the door, and suddenly finds himself crashing to the floor with an armful of Egbert.

"Daaaaaaaave!" John shouts gleefully.

"Holy shit Egbert, what the hell are you doing here?" Dave asks. He wants to be pissed, especially since John never mentioned anything about visiting, but the fact that Dave is finally meeting his long-time internet best friend in person outweighs any irritation he feels. He wraps his arms around John and hugs him tight. "Damn, it's so fucking good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Dave," John mumbles into Dave's shoulder. They stay locked together for another few moments, before John pulls away, much to Dave's chagrin. It felt good to finally feel John; to know he was really real, and not just an internet mirage.

"Oh gosh," John starts, "I'm really sorry about not telling you I was coming to visit, but I really wanted to surprise you!"

"John, you're so inconsiderate, I feel violated with you thrusting yourself into my home unannounced, seriously I thought better of you."

"So, you're not mad then?" John asked, flashing a toothy grin.

"Of course not; how could I be anything but ecstatic right now? I'm finally seeing my best bro in person," Dave said, smiling.

Dave was used to acting cool in public, moving silently, not bothering others, and they never bothered him. He wasn't as introverted as most people thought; he just had certain things he wanted out of life, and only spent his time talking with people who understood that. Among said-people, John was his absolute best friend. John was a typical dorky teenager, but he had a serious side underneath. He was goofy and fun in public – always smiling, laughing, and pranking – but when he needed to, John could focus, listen, and help his friends. When they talked on Pesterchum during the day, their conversations flowed like normal friends, conversing about whatever had captured their interest of late. But, at night, they often dropped their masks, discussing their fears, hopes, and dreams they both had of an alternate world filled with strange creatures and god-like powers. Though different during the day, when it was just the two of them talking, with their facades dropped, they really weren't all that different.

And, now, John was here. In Dave's house. Where they could finally talk in person. Dave was the happiest he'd been in years, and with only him and John in the house, he wasn't afraid to show it.

==== John: Congratulate yourself silently on you success.

John knew he'd taken a bit of a gamble with showing up unannounced at Dave's house, but it had really paid off; Dave had been completely surprised, and yet happy to see him. John hadn't meant to tackle Dave to the floor, but he got a bit carried away. Of course, Dave hugged him back, showing that he clearly wasn't mad. After a very long bro-embrace, John pulled away. Honestly, he felt like he could have hugged Dave for the next day straight, but he didn't want to make Dave feel uncomfortable, so away he pulled.

John rose to his feet, offering his hand to Dave to help him up. When they were both standing, John took a moment to look Dave over. Though they had talked over video-chat several times before, seeing him in person was something completely different. Dave was so pale, with a light smattering of freckles across his cheekbones, and dusted down his arms. Even behind the shades John had given him, he could see a glint of ruby-red eyes. Dave was thin, but not abnormally so, and showed signs of his constant strifes with his brother with light scars and solid muscles. His hair was short and light blonde, almost white, and carefully styled the way Dave always wore it. In short, Dave was handsome, and John began to feel a bit self-conscious.

John was a little shorter than Dave, he noted sadly, with thick glasses framing his plain-blue eyes, and completely untamable black hair framing his gaunt face. John enjoyed building things, especially using traditional hammer and nails, which helped him stay in shape and worked his arms well, but it was nothing compared to Dave. Still, John chided himself, Dave was his friend, and he shouldn't be comparing himself to him physically. They were friends, and that's all that really mattered.

==== Dave: Be confused

Dave and John were still standing an arm's width apart, with John holding Dave's hand that he lifted him with. And, Dave noticed, John appeared to be looking him over rather thoroughly at the moment. Something gnawed at the back of Dave's mind, but he tried to ignore it. He figured if John was getting an eyeful, he was entitled to one as well. John was a little shorter than he was, to Dave's enjoyment. His black hair fell messily along his forehead and ears, but it laid in a way that looked good on John's small face. His large glasses framed his sapphire- blue eyes, and accented them nicely. In short, John looked like the typical "boy-next-door," except for the natural Egbertian dork-charm thrown in. If Dave was an otaku school-girl, he mused, he might have used the word "adorkable" to describe John, but Dave refused to acknowledge such thoughts, because he was neither Japanese nor a girl.

Dave shifted uncomfortably. It had been different, seeing John over a video feed, and in person John was the picture of a charming young man. Next to him, Dave felt self-conscious; like a scrawny bag of muscles and bones, with messy blonde hair and freakish albino pigmentation (or, lack thereof, really). Dave was reminded of how thankful he was for the shades John had given him, as they covered his blood-red eyes. Dave felt more abnormal than he had before. But, he stopped himself, John was his friend. It didn't matter that he was a stringy albino, because he knew John was his friend no matter what. Some of the tension left his shoulders at this thought, just as John released his hand and let them both fall awkwardly to their sides.

==== John: Remember why you came here.

"Ehehe, sorry again for showing up unannounced, but I really wanted to surprise you!" John exclaimed, "but, don't worry, I'm not here to mooch off you or anything; I brought my sleeping bag and packed some food and everything!"

"Jegus Egbert, who do you think I am? You came here to stay, not to camp out. Welcome to Casa del Strider," Dave announced, waving his arms for effect, "help yourself to the food in the kitchen – just watch out for the weapons – and you can have my bed for your stay; I'll sleep on the futon. It's the least I can do for my best bro," Dave rambled on. John opened his mouth to protest, but Dave cut him off. "And, I don't wanna hear any protesting from you. Now ditch your stuff in my room upstairs then get your ass back down here so I can destroy you in Halo." Dave finished.

John grinned and happily complied, scurrying up the steps and finding Dave's room easily. John made a small mental note that Dave seemed a little off, but that thought was quickly forgotten as John found himself back downstairs, on the couch with Dave, shooting away at each other in PvP mode. They both couldn't help themselves from buckling down and concentrating, the world temporally forgotten as two best friends pummeled each other over Xbox, for the first time in person, instead of online.

====Dave: Okay, skip ahead a bit again.

It had been about two weeks since John had tackled Dave at his front door. John had only planned on staying a week, but had suspiciously brought enough clothes to last him a month. Dave realized he really liked having John around. Since Dirk was almost never home, and when he was, he communicated solely through notes and strifes, it was nice having another human being in the house. The fact that the human was Dave's best friend was a certain plus.

Of course, it's rather difficult for two people to live together for any length of time without finding out small facts about each other. John, for example, still had the Con Air bunny that Dave had sent him on his 13th birthday, and while he didn't actually sleep with it (thank gog, Dave thought), he always kept it on the nightstand next to his bed, and said goodnight to it each night. Dave, for example, took the shades John had given him into a repair shop each month, so the screws could be replaced, cracks could be repaired, and they could be professionally cleaned; other than these times, the shades almost never left his face, even when he slept or showered. Both, for example, had similar dreams of another life, where the commanded god-like powers and played a game to save the universe.

But, they were also learning more about themselves. At least, Dave was. That nagging voice in the back of his mind that started when John collided with him hadn't shut up. In the first week, Dave did a good job of ignoring it – he was really too wrapped up in everything he and John were doing to fully notice – but now that the initial shock had worn off, the voice had come back into the forefront of Dave's mind, nagging, gnawing, eating away and Dave's conscious – and subconscious – thoughts. The voice told Dave things he already knew: he loved hanging out with John, John was the only person he felt completely comfortable around, he couldn't imagine being this close to anyone else ever. But, it was the way the voice said these facts – the way they floated through Dave's mind – that made him uneasy. Something felt off. Something wasn't entirely right.

====Dave: Slide deeper into unease.

John had been at Dave's house a month now. John was off at the local Laundromat, washing his clothes, and Dave once again found himself on the couch, watching My Little Pony (again, completely ironically). When there was a sudden flash in front of the TV, characteristic of Dirk's lightning flash-stepping. Dave glanced down at the coffee table in front of him and saw a note: ROOF. NOW.

Dave sighed and stood. He swung his arm up and behind his head, using his other hand to pull it into a stretch. He whipped his head from shoulder to shoulder until a satisfying crack rang from his vertebrae. He took deep breaths and calmed himself, ready for a strife that was a long-time coming.

Shitty katana in hand, Dave pushed open the already-ajar door to the roof of their boxy home. The roof appeared empty, but Dave knew hat empty didn't mean safe. As he walked out, his eyes darted around, searching for blurs of movement, flashes of Lil Cal's colorful garb. The blur never came; what did was a swift kick to the back of Dave's knees, sending him crashing to the rooftop. Dave gritted his teeth, anger beginning to broil in the pits of his mind. He leapt to his feet. Whipping around, fully expecting to see nothing. He wasn't disappointed. Dave cast his gaze to his right, and the blow to his head came from the left with a swift whack. His shades were launched across the roof, and skidded on their lenses. Damnit, I just got those fixed yesterday, Dave scowled, standing once more. The anger was bubbling higher inside his brain. He whipped around, slashing at the air, catching nothing. He ran to the center of the roof, and began whipping around wildly, slicing only air. As soon as he stopped to catch his breath, he received a blow to the back, and kissed the concrete once more. Dave's blood was on fire. He was done playing. He was done with all of this. He stood, sheathed his katana, and walked back to the stairwell entrance. "I'm done," Dave said to nothing in particular, entered the stairwell, and slammed the door behind him.

====Dave: Sulk in your room.

Dave does not sulk. He does, however, carefully reflect. Currently, Dave is lying in his own bed, reflecting on what made him so angry. He'd strifed with his brother plenty of times before, and gotten his ass handed to him on a silver platter, but this is the first time he had gotten enraged. Something was wrong. He couldn't even think about it, though. Other thoughts kept creeping into his mind. I wonder if John's back yet; I hope John stays for another month; these sheets smell like John now; I wonder if he'll let me hug him again.

Wait, what? Dave sat up on his bed, where he had been lying, staring up at the ceiling. Hug John again? Why? The voice in his head grew unusually calm at the thought. Dave's mind was blank for a moment; he stared straight ahead. Dave knew he was angry, and his prevailing thought was to just hug John again. Because he's my best friend, Dave thought. Dave didn't know why he was so angry, but he knew hugging his best friend would help him calm down. He just hoped John wouldn't get awkward about it.

====John: Return from the Laundromat; Dave: Brohugs. Now.

A cheery "I'm baaaaaaaack!" alerted Dave to John's return. He stood calmly from his bed and exited his room, making his way down the stairs. John had ditched his stuff in the living room, and was now in the kitchen, filling a glass with water. Dave walked up behind him, and without saying anything, grabbed John by the shoulder, turned him around, and pulled him into a solid brohug.

"Uhhh, Dave? Are you okay?" John squeaked out, surprised.

"Shhh, only brohugs now. Had a bad day," Dave mumbled into John's shoulder. John was still tense, but now wrapped his arms around Dave in turn. They stayed in an awkward embrace for a few moments more. Dave had a fleeting thought that while his bed now smelled like John, nothing smelled more like John than John himself. Here. In the flesh. God, it feels so good to just hold him, Dave couldn't help but think. The voice in his head began to perk up again, but Dave squelched it as he pulled away from John finally.

John looked a little confused for a moment more, but then smiled a stupidly large, and charming, grin. "Wow Dave, turning all emotional now?" John joked, laughing.

"Shut up Egderp," Dave said, as he began to realize how odd he had just acted. But, he felt better. A lot better. So, Dave decided to just move past it, and not chide himself any longer. This was John, after all.

====Dave: Skip to present time. Well, arrive at present time.

It is now an unusually cool day in Houston. John Egbert has been a guest of the Strider household for approximately five weeks now. And Dave is quickly becoming a mess. The voice in his head won't stop. He's having thoughts that make him uneasy, and heat churns uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. He realized he loves when John asks to strife with him, because he gets to be near him. He loves it when they watch shitty movies, because their hands brush together in the popcorn bowl, like in some shitty romcom. He loves it when John reaches up to the top cupboard – the only ones actually containing food – because his shirt lifts up just enough to show his tiny waist. He loves it when John…

Dave growls in frustration and flips over on his bed again, breathing deep to comfort himself. Breathing in his sheets, which still smell like John. He doesn't even try to block out the voice anymore, he just tries not to listen. He's reached his breaking point.

Mindlessly, like a zombie, Dave shuffles up to the rooftop, like he did a week ago, katana in hand. As the cold air hits him, he zombified state transitions to anger once more. Dave walks to the center of the roof, closes his eyes, and waits.

And, here, we have reached present time. Dave welcomes the strife with his brother this time, allowing him to operate mindlessly, focusing on nothing but the movements of air around him that alert him to Dirk's presence. He's awake now. He's ready to fight. A kick is aimed at the back of his knees; Dave jumps and pivots, slashing at air, but hearing a small rip as the tip of his blade catches on unseen fabric. Success. Dirks attacks begin to come more swiftly. Dave blocks and parries, stepping back as he does. Slash, block, slash, block. Dave begins to tire. The voice is screaming in his head. Suddenly, Dirk stops in front of him, and just stands there. Staring. Unmoving. Dave looks back at his brother. Their eyes lock for a moment, and unheard words are exchanged. Anger simmers in Dave's stomach, but it quickly melts to depression. Hopelessness. Dave's mouth opens, and the voice in his head speaks through him: "I… Bro, I'm in love with my best friend. I'm in love with John." Dave doesn't feel like he spoke the words, but he knows they're true. The voice is gone now; the voice has become his own. Reality comes crashing down on his shoulders, and it's too much weight to bear. Dave's knees buckle, and he collapses to his hands and knees. His eyes prickle, and suddenly he feels arms wrapped around his back, pulling him into a sitting position, and holding him. Dave doesn't think; he's done with thinking. He just wants to sit there, curled in the fetal position, being held by his Bro. For the first time in six years, Dave Strider begins to cry.

====John: What are you doing?

John is currently out shopping. Dave told him several times that he didn't have to, but John insisted that he didn't mind doing the grocery shopping, since he was Dave's guest after all. They had decided to switch who went shopping every other week, and today was John's day. As John glanced over the different brands of apple juice, searching for the particular brand he knew was Dave's favorite, he paused a moment to reflect on what his life had become.

Living with Dave is great! John thought he and Dave were friends before, but living in the same house has allowed them to mesh together perfectly, like two peas in a pod. John knew he had been at Dave's house for a lot longer than he had originally planned, but every time John started feeling guilty for staying so long, Dave suggested that he should stick around another week, and John was more than happy to comply! In fact, just last week, John was pretty sure they reached an unspoken agreement that John would stay at Dave's for the rest of the summer. Which was a fact John was completely okay with.

Summers were usually boring times for John; he spent most of his time holed up in his room, chatting with Rose, Jade, and especially Dave over Pesterchum, playing video games, reading, and practicing piano, with occasional forays to the kitchen for food, and outside to stretch his legs. And, of course, the constant pastry strifes with his dad, which he had gotten better at avoiding over the years. But, spending the summer at Dave's house was a completely different experience! They spent their time playing video games together, walking around the city visiting joke shops and record dealers, and watching movies on the couch in the living room. Of course, John forced Dave to watch at least one Nic Cage movie whenever they had a movie night, which Dave groaned over and insulted, and John laughed and defended (though, as time went on, John found his immense affinity for movies fading, but he would never tell Dave this, of course, if only to laugh at Dave's expense). But, the past few weeks had been some of the best in John's life. In fact, John couldn't remember a time when he was happier.

But, Dave had been acting a bit odd of late, John mused. As time went on, Dave began to look worried; he almost looked sad at times, but when John asked him, Dave world only stare at him for a moment, then shake his head and insist it was nothing. In truth, Dave's melancholic mood had begun to worry John himself, especially since Dave usually told him what was bothering him without hesitation. That was part of the reason John was standing where he was now; he planned on buying Dave a ridiculous amount of apple juice in the hopes that it might lighten his spirits.

====John: Buy your stuff and go home already!

John bought his stuff and went home, and by home he meant Dave's home, but John had started thinking of it as his own, at least for the summer. When he came to the front door, he used the key Dave had given him to open it, and enter. "Lucy! I'm hoooooooomeeeeeeee!" John shouted the "I Love Lucy" reference gleefully. "And, I got you something I think you're gonna like!" he continued, in a singsong voice.

John busied himself in the kitchen, unpacking groceries and setting them on the counter. A few weeks ago, he had gone through some of the lower pantries and set off the traps Dirk had set, clearing them for actual storage. As he began putting the nonperishables in the lower cabinets, he heard Dave descending the stairs.

====Dave: Don't look at Egbert's ass.

Dave fails miserably. It's not like he hadn't done it before, but he used to rationalize it internally, saying he was just making sure John was shaping up nice for the ladies, or saying he was comparing his own assets to John's. Now, he didn't try to kid himself anymore. He was checking John out. He slapped himself mentally, and shook his head to unstick his eyes.

"Welcome home, dear. You were gone so long, I was beginnin' to worry you were off canoodlin' with some other man!" Dave cooed dramatically in a feminine voice, placing the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically.

"Oh, you know me, Dave, I'm always out getting into things I shouldn't; I'm a lying, cheating spouse!" John laughed, and Dave laughed in return, entering the kitchen and snagging a bottle of AJ. Dave seems to be in a better mood, John thought. But, John noticed, Dave still seemed to be straining a bit to smile. John frowned.

"Hey, Dave? Can I ask you something?" John queried.

"Shoot," was all Dave said in response as he walked back into the living room, cracking the seal on the bottle, and taking a large swig. John followed behind him.

"Mmkay… Dave, I know something's bothering you, and don't keep acting like it isn't. What happened? Why won't you tell me?" John had stopped walking, and crossed his arms lightly.

Dave froze. The house was silent. "I don't want to talk about it, okay?" Dave said after a while. Not turning around. John saw his shoulders slump slightly.

"Why." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. John needed to know.

Another pause. Then, Dave's fists clenched. He whipped around, a cold fury blazing in his eyes. He walked calmly over to John. "Because I can't talk about this with you, John; you know I tell you everything, but this is one thing I cannot discuss with you," he said coldly.

John was hurt; Dave knew he could tell John anything, but now he was purposely blocking John out. "Dave! Why the hell wouldn't you be able to tell me? I'm your best friend, and I know that YOU know you can tell me anything. So why aren't you?" John asked, starting to feel mad himself.

Dave's cold fury melted away under John's heated gaze. "Goddamnit Egbert, why do you think?" he asked, looking defeated, "Maybe because it's about you? Maybe because it has SOMETHING TO DO WITH YOU?" His fury had returned, hot now, battling with the heat of John's stare.

====Dave: Do something stupid.

Dave proceeds to do something stupid.

====John: Ignite.

John stared at Dave, unsure of what to say. What could he say? He didn't even understand what Dave was trying to say. But Dave had stopped talking. The frustration melted away from Dave's reddened eyes, and a look of sadness rushed into its place. Then, Dave's hands were on John's shoulders. They were close now; John could feel Dave's warm breath on his skin.

Then, John erupted in flames. The world disappeared from around him. Suddenly, he was alone; all of his senses cut out, and the only thing in existence was heat. Fire spread throughout his body, the flames seeping through his blood, leaving it boiling; sparks danced in his head, and fiery tongues lapped at his thoughts, burning them away. John was on fire; John was warm. The flames engulfed him, but didn't burn him. The flames heated his soul, melted his emotions, leaving behind comforting warmth. John was lost; John wasn't sure he wanted to be found.

But, a voice called out to him. From the depths of his mind, a voice rang out. John couldn't hear what the voice was saying, but as it grew louder, the world began to reform around him. The voice screeched that everything was wrong; the voice pulled him from the warmth and into the chilled room. John felt the flames still; the flames were at his face. The flames were on his lips. The world was back in focus. Dave was kissing him.

Dave. Is kissing. Me, were John's only thoughts. The voice reached a bloody howl in his head, telling John to get away, that everything was wrong. John's body moved despite his hazy mind. His hands found their way to Dave's chest, and pushed lightly. The oxygen rushed from the room. The flames were suffocated. John was cold.

They stood an arm's length apart now. Dave looked frightened, almost pleading. John's mind had gone blank. His mouth moved. "I…. I think I… I should go now," he heard himself say, and felt himself backing up. Dave's face became blank, unemotional. John turned, fumbled with the doorknob, and was out the door and gone.

====John: Think about stuff.

John is currently sitting on a swing, in a park not far from Dave's house. He always loved the swings, both when he was little and even now. His brain felt frosted, and he needed to deice it. He dug his heels into the soft loam beneath him, and kicked backwards, launching his swing up high. John began kicking his legs in time with the swinging, sending himself higher and higher. Whenever John felt uneasy, he always liked to swing. The rush of the wind whipping through his hair felt invigorating, and at times he felt like he was flying. He wasn't sure why the wind felt so peaceful to him, but since it always comforted him, he didn't question it. As the gale whipped around him, John closed his eyes, letting his body work mechanically while his mind unraveled his lingering thoughts. John took a deep breath, and exhaled.

Everything had just gotten a lot more confusing. Dave was John's friend. But, he had kissed John. That wasn't something friends do. And, worst of all, when Dave was kissing him, John felt warm, relaxed. John's swinging slowed. If his inner voice of reason hadn't beaten him over the head, John doesn't know what would have happened. But, John realized guiltily, slowing his swing to a halt, he felt… good. Happy. That didn't make sense.

John had never really felt strong feelings for anyone, other than his purely platonic feelings for Dave, but now his body felt cold and lacking, like the warmth had become an integral part of him in such a short time, and was missing now, leaving John feeling hollow inside. He missed it. John wanted to feel warm again. John banged his head against the swing chain, causing it to produce a metallic rattle.

"Jegus, what am I even thinking?" John whined out loud, "I am NOT a homosexual!"

Dave was John's best friend. There was no doubt in John's mind that he loved Dave, platonically of course. Dave understood him! He hid behind a mask of irony usually, but when it was just the two of them, he often let his mask drop, showing his emotions hidden underneath. And, John knew he pretended to be happier than he actually was around other people, but John knew he could just be himself around Dave, because he wouldn't take it personally. John couldn't imagine spending the rest of his life with anyone else.

Wait what.

Oh god, that sounds really homo doesn't it? John thought. He started chuckling, then full blown laughing. John looked up at the sky, and stared at nothing. Wow, I'm an idiot, John thought, somberly.

====John: Stop being an idiot.

John leapt off the swing, and started walking in the direction of Dave's house.

====Dave: Have mental breakdown.

Dave refuses to have a mental breakdown. He got too close to that already when he told Dirk that he was in love with John. Now, in a desperate attempt to get John to see how Dave really felt, Dave had kissed John. And John had pushed him away. John had left. John was gone.

Dave is currently sitting on the floor of his house, staring at empty spacing, willing himself to not exist. It felt like he was frozen in time, with nothing moving around him, just thoughts swimming in his head.

====Dave: Come to your senses.

Dave exhaled after what felt like an eternity trapped within a second. Then, he smiled. Sulking wouldn't get him anywhere. Dave had finally realized what was most important to him in life, and he had fucked it up. But, the clocks in the house kept ticking. Time went on, and so would Dave's life. With a final sigh, Dave stood.

====Dave: Find closure.

The most important step to finding closure was to gather up everything that was John's from around the house and pack it up. Dave did so, and placed Egbert's cases by the front door. He knew John would have to come back for them at some point, and Dave was so looking forward to that awkward exchange, but it would come and it would pass. Dave flopped down on the couch, but didn't turn on the TV. He needed to breathe, and get used to what was now going to be a gaping hole in his life. He felt like he had lost a limb; he kept searching for it, only to remind himself that it was no longer there. It had only been about an hour since John had run out, but to Dave it already felt like the day was done. His body was achy, and he thought about going to sleep, but he wanted to stay up and do something. Something to keep him busy. For now, though, Dave decided to rest.

There was a hesitant knock at the door. Dave's body tensed up. He hadn't expected John to come back for his stuff tonight. Probably wants to get the hell out of here as soon as possible, Dave thought. He rose from the couch and walked to the door, his hand hesitating over the knob. Okay, breathe, just gotta say hi, hand him his stuff, then close the door. Simple and clean, Dave thought. He inhaled, and opened the door.

====John: Make things not simple and clean.

When Dave opened the door, he didn't even get out his "Hi" before John's lips were on his.

====Dave: Be confused.

Dave is doing an excellent job of being confused. The hole in his chest throbs painfully. The kiss is poison, seeping into Dave's body, taunting him. The voice in Dave's head returns, and laughs at him.

====John: Let Dave breathe.

The fire fills John's head intoxicatingly once more, but he forces himself to pull away; there are things he needs to say.

====John: Apologize.

Dave stared at John, his face blank, but his eyes revealing inner pain.

"John… What the he–," Dave started, but John cut him off.

"I'm a complete idiot. It's me," John began. Dave tried to speak once more, but John cut him off again. "I've been stupid, and selfish, and naive, and god I'm so sorry," John continued, "You are my best friend, Dave, and always will be. And, you're my best friend for a reason: we get along perfectly." John laughed softly. "And well, when you kissed me earlier, I was really confused! I mean, I understand I've had some awkward man-crushes on Nic Cage and Matthew McConaughey in the past, but I realize I've never really had feelings for anyone, ever," John shuffled his feet uncomfortably, "Well, except for you. And, I guess I always just thought that they were platonic feelings. But, I guess I just never really thought about it hard, because I've never felt strong emotions towards anyone else before, so I guess that's why I just didn't recognize it." John seemed to have reached the end of a thought, so Dave spoke up again.

"I… John I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have done that," was all Dave mumbled out.

"No, it's alright, Dave. In fact, it's better than alright. Because when you kissed me, it was the closest I've ever been to you, and it made me happy. I was kissing YOU Dave, and, well, nothing else mattered. And, if it didn't matter then, it shouldn't matter now," John smiled sheepishly, "So, I'm sorry, Dave. I'm sorry for not realizing sooner that we're perfect together. I honestly can't imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else," John concluded, closing his eyes and smiling warmly.

John felt the touch of soft lips against his, and he reached his arms up and out, wrapping them around Dave's neck. Dave's hands found their way to John's back, and they stayed there for a moment, just holding each other, held together in a warm kiss.

Dave pulled away, and started laughing. "Wow Egbert, didn't think you were such an emotional sap," he chuckled.

John detached one of his arms from Dave's neck and punched him in the shoulder.

"Hey, don't make fun of me! I just poured my heart out here, and it wasn't exactly easy!" John protested, but then Dave's lips were on his again, and they mumbled the words, "I love you, John." Without even thinking, John mumbled, "I love you too, Dave."