A/N - Alrighty, so this was a present for my friend Ashley. It's really shitty, 'cause I wrote it at, like, one in the morning while half asleep. Regardless, here it is. Enjoy and review it despite it's blatant bullshittery.
Disclaimer - I don't own Homestuck (oh, the things I would do if I did). Everything Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie.
It wasn't the first time that they had kissed.
It wasn't the first time that they had kissed in public.
Or the first time that they had kissed shamelessly.
But it was the first time that Dave realised just how much these moments of pure affection meant to him.
Over the two years that he had been living with John and the paternal Egbert, Dave had managed to calm down some about being taken from Bro. Child Services had a fucking field day when they found out about how they would strife on the rooftop of their top-floor apartment, claiming Bro unfit to raise a child. First and foremost, Dave Strider was not a "child." And second of all, Bro was perfectly capable of taking care of a mini him. Sure, the fridge was full of shitty swords. Sure, the house was full of phallic puppets. Sure, they duked it out high above the city streets with legitimate(ly shitty) weapons. But that just showed how great Bro was. Of course, Child Services heard nothing of this, and when asked about other relatives, Dave could only say he had none.
The obvious choice of whom he should have gone to was Rose. She was the closest thing to a relative he really had, being his ectobiological sister and all. But, if he was going to be rudely taken from his home, he was going to be put somewhere he would fucking enjoy himself. So, naturally, he requested taking up residence with the Egberts, who all too gladly accepted.
He had been there ever since.
For the first month or so after the ordeal, Dave kept waiting for Bro to flashstep out of the shadows and whisk him away, back to the heat of their little Texan abode. It didn't take all that long for this fantasy to fade away, leaving a dull ache in the blonde's heart, which John tried to sooth with his shitty Nicolas Cage movies—which, for a week or so, every time Dave closed his eyes, all he could see were scenes from Con Air. That was a nightmare in its own.
Eventually, Dave got a letter in the mail from Bro, just a quick "hey, still love you little bro," and all of that, which made his heart soar. From that point on, the ache subsided. No doubt that he still missed Bro like hell, but just knowing that they hadn't put him in prison or something was a relief.
So, since then, he had just been focusing on the fact that he was living with John freakin' Egbert.
It was so strange meeting him outside of the hell that was Sburb, yet there he was, crashing on the sofa in his living room for the longest time, which he refused to admit that the harlequins unnerved him as much as Bro's smuppets. In the first few months, when John would creep down the stairs to check on the sleeping form of Dave, he would find the shaded blonde crying just the softest bit into his pillow.
It was then that John decided he was going to share his bed with Dave.
He wanted to be there when Dave was crying—which he finally got Dave to stop denying that he was—to comfort him, to let him know that even though Bro wasn't there any more, he was. John knew he was nothing like Bro, and he knew that he could never be a replacement for him, but fuck it if he wasn't going to try to make Dave feel better. And those sleepless nights in bed lead to more. A hug to keep Dave from shaking. A hand ruffling through the impossibly cool locks of blonde hair. A kiss to quiet the whimpers that came from his soft lips.
And it was when Dave woke up with the taste of spearmint on his lips that he figured out what happened at night.
At first, he was kind of disturbed at the fact that Egbert was mackin' on him while he was sleeping. But then, when he realised what a comfort it was, the fact of how sweet the notion was hit him. From there, their unofficial relationship escalated until the point that they finally labelled themselves as a thing. When they told Dad, the man simply whipped up some baked goods of acceptance. When it was leaked out at school, they were known for being "that weird couple of gay freshman," which irked the both of them. Dave knew that their relationship wouldn't fly down in Texas, though, so he was grateful for it being just that.
Dave didn't like the public displays of affection at first, but he couldn't really do anything about it when John would take his hand up in his own or would just place a chaste, minty kiss on his lips. So, he came to accept it, and later on he came to enjoy it. It became a thing for them to kiss before they split paths in the morning at school.
Today was no different as they gave a quick "see you later" kiss in front of their shared locker.
It wasn't the first time that they had kissed.
It wasn't the first time that they had kissed in public.
Or the first time that they had kissed shamelessly.
But it was the first time that Dave realised just how much these moments of pure affection meant to him as he walked off with a smile and the fresh taste of spearmint on his lips.