It seemed like a good idea, at the time. Sunscreen smelled like the funkiest shit he'd ever smelled. Who would want that all over their arms and face? Everybody can smell It on you. Smell the pasty-ness you are and the sunscreen you're wearing so your pasty-ness stays pasty because, damn it, dark is just not what Dave Strider is.
Of course John did. John, who knows he doesn't even need to, applied so much sunscreen, Dave almost felt embarrassed to be with him. But not quite; sunscreen is "as ironic as a cherry pie in a bathtub."
Yet here he stood, in his bright red-and-white-striped swimming trunks staring in the hotel's bathroom mirror.
"Hey, uh, John?" He called.
"Yes, dear?" Said man called back.
"I can't go swimming with you and the girls today."
"Ugh, Daaaaaave! We've been planning this for months! Why can't-" John popped his head into the bathroom's doorway. "Oh. AhahahahahahHahahahhhahahaha! DAVE! You are so-"
"Shut up! It's not funny!"
"DAVE! I can see where your shirt sleeves cut off! Oh my goodness, you have a sunglasses tan. That is so adorable. Haha, it's so red though!"
"Are you done?"
"Holy crap, Dave, the top of your left ear is red. Okay, I'm done." John had the biggest grin on his face as he stifled a giggle behind his hand.
"Holy sh- What? My hair is long and down and how the fuck did the top of my left ear get sunburnt?" Dave pulled the blonde locks above his ear up and yelped. The shorter man sighed. "I'll go get the Aloe Vera," he took one look in the mirror before he walked away to their suitcase and giggled.
"I had it with me all day, y'know. I put some on before we left, in front of the castle, in line for the Haunted Mansion. Hell, I even put some on because Peter-freaking-Pan told me to, babe! Wendy and I tried to get some on you, but nobody listens to me. No, no, no, no, no." With the green gel in hand, he walked back to his fiancé and handed it to him.
"Thanks," Said fiancé mumbled, before he tried to apply some to his face. "Holy shit, that's cold! And it's slimy. Why am I putting toad ass on my face. That wasn't a question, don't answer that,"
"David Arthur Strider! We are in the Disneyland Resort Hotel and there are children everywhere! You watch your mouth! You never know when Walt himself will come through the wall and rat you out," John shuddered. You say 'frick' once at Disneyland, and you have that nightmare for years. He wrapped his arms around Dave's torso, bare chest coming in contact with bare back. "I guess I'll just-"
"OW! John, what did you do to my neck?"
"I...Oh, my God, you have a single strip of bright red above your collar line. Here," He squirted some goop onto his index finger, "I'll get it," and rubbed it into the tender flesh.
"Son of a bi-iiiiig llama," The sunburnt man quickly saved,"why did you push so hard?"
"If I didn't, it would have turned into green lines that look like Hulk veins. Look, it's already drying on your face,"
"GET IT OFF ME," Mr. Ironic himself all but squealed.
"Alright, alright," John got a washcloth, ran it under cold water, and started lightly dabbing Dave's face. "Well at least we had fun yesterday, right? Not swimming for a single day won't kill you. Let's jet chill inside their living room, no swimming. Or you can just stay in the shade while we swim. I still want to swim."
"Whatever."
"I'll go get you a tank top. It's just plain white, and don't even look at me like that because farmers tan or not, clothing on that skin will make it hurt. Come on, let's go get ready for today.. And keep those shades on all day. You'll look better."
"Gee, I -ow!- love you too."
Moral of the story is: always wear sunscreen or sun block when in the sun for long periods of time, children. It doesn't even matter if you seem like the stereotypical Disneyland vacationer; it'll hurt like a mother if you don't.