/ignores my other fic and starts this shit
I'm sorry for any possible OOCness or any other mistakes I've made in writing this nonsense.
Um, personally I feel like Dave wouldn't be very popular and in school, and is actually pretty awkward in real life. Which might not be all that evident at least yet? I think if I continue this, it'll all be from Dave's point of view.
Oh, and this is AU, sbrub never happened, and I may or may not throw in some humanstuck trolls. I doubt I'll end up doing that though.
Well, that's enough blabbering from me. I hope you enjoy and I'd love some reviews!
Egbert is late, but that was to be expected. Since when have planes every arrived on time? You wait patiently, of course, not letting yourself get worked up over things like late flights and excessive waiting. Okay, maybe you're fidgeting just a little bit in frustration, but that's besides the point.
In fifteen minutes you're chewing on your straw until there's only a thin strip of plastic left.
"Where the hell are you?" you mutter to nobody in particular. You start toying with your shades without taking them off.
You must have missed the change on the screen saying the late flight has arrived, because there's a loud clatter of a suitcase being dropped to the ground and you're suddenly engulfed in a pair of crushing arms, belonging to no other than John Egbert.
"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod."
You let yourself smile a bit (he can't see you right now after all what with his face pressed into your shoulder in his eagerness), and hug him back lightly, patting his back slightly.
John lets go at last, a huge grin plastered to his face, showing off his buck teeth in all their glory. You would laugh, but you're a Strider, so you supply him with a small smirk instead.
"Oh my god, I can't believe I'm finally here, the flight was so late I was getting really impatient, there was this drunk guy and it was really weird and he kept kicking at the back of my chair, and woah you're a lot taller than me, that's kind of embarrassing!" It looks like the only thing that stopped him from talking was the need for oxygen, so you get a word in while you have the chance.
"Breathe, Egbert," you instruct him. "Breathe."
He laughs sheepishly and picks up the bag he had dropped earlier. "Sorry!"
"Wouldn't want you to die on your first day here. There'd be legal troubles."
He laughs. You smirk.
He starts going on about the strange tasting crackers on the plane as the two of you head out of the airport and to your car.
You stop at a McDonald's on the way home, eating inside rather than risking the Drive Thru, where they were bound to get your order wrong.
"What do you want to eat?" You nudge John with your elbow to stop him from spacing out. Typical Egbert.
"Anything's good," he tells you happily, and rushes off to get settled at a table ahead of time.
You order yourself large fries and a Coke and a Happy Meal for John, replacing fries with apple slices and a soda with chocolate milk.
That's what he gets for being indecisive.
"Food," you tell him, and dump the Happy Meal Box in front of him on the table. "Try not to choke on the apples."
John huffs at the apple slices but his eyes surprisingly light up at the sight of the chocolate milk. "Aww yeah, chocolate mil-woah, is that a Scooby-Doo toy?"
"God, Egbert, I swear you're still ten sometimes."
He sticks his tongue out at you in an exaggerated imitation of a little kid before starting on his meal. He finishes it in record speed and moves on to help you with your fries. You protest for the sake of protesting, but you both know you don't really mind.
When you arrive at your apartment an hour later, John jumps out of the car and stares up at the tall building.
"It's huge!"
"Nothing compared to my dick."
John rolls his eyes. "I'm sure." Sarcasm must be contagious.
You help him get his back out of the car, and then, because you're a fucking gentleman, you decide to carry it all the way to the elevator. Once you're both inside, you punch one of the buttons, and the doors slide shut before the elevator begins to ascend.
"Ugh, I don't like elevators," John mutters.
You blink in surprise, not that it's possible to see through your shades, and notice that John is indeed looking a bit queasy.
Throwing a friendly arm around his shoulders, you tusse his already messy hair.
"It's all good, we're almost there, darlin'," you say jokingly, exaggerating your Texas drawl.
John grinned as usual right as the elevator stops, doors opening. Just in time, too. You're suddenly aware of an alarmingly fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach at the sight of John's smile.
Damn it, Strider, pull it together.
It's almost eight in the evening, and you're scavenging the kitchen for whatever food you can find. Bro should really do the groceries soon. You find a few cups of instant noodles, and fill two with water, putting them into the microwave to heat up while you continue to look for anything else you could magic into dinner. You don't find any food, but you do find an unopened bottle of apple juice. Egbert will just love that.
John is lying on the couch, a blanket covering his crossed legs. Eagerly, he looks to see what you've brought.
"Ooh, noodles!" he says happily.
"Yep. And juice."
"Oh god. Dude, I'm not drinking that."
"Paranoid fucker."
"Hey, I'm just being cautious!" he insists, trying to get a forkful of noodles into his mouth, but ending up dropping them, broth splashing onto his glasses.
The evening proceeds in a similar manner, full of joking, laughing (on John's part), and throwing things at the TV screen whenever one of you got bored of the channel.
By midnight, John is yawning, and you figure its about time you yourself go to bed, seeing as there's one more day of school for you until spring break.
The two of you head to your room, kicking puppets out of the way as you walk. Your place is a mess, and neither you or Bro will clean. Not that you'd touch those creepy-as-fuck puppets even if you did.
You lead John to your room, and he throws himself onto your bed, bouncing a few times, before pulling his sleeping bag out and dumping it on the floor. You toss a pillow at him and he just barely catches it.
"Hey, Dave," he mutters when the lights have already been turned off, and he's already settled comfortably in his sleeping bag on the floor.
"Yeah?" you mumble, voice muffled.
"It's really cool to finally see you."
You can't think of anything to say to that, but you smile into your pillow before drifting off to sleep.