Well, isn't this cute, mused Bro as he stood watching the two boys sleep. It wasn't as if he hadn't known, or at the very least suspected as much. He was Dirk Strider; he always knew everything that was going on in Dave's life. But he still hadn't expected to walk in on his bro sharing the bed with their house guest. The boys lay tangled as close as two tanglebuddies getting some serious tangling on, John's back against the wall and Dave facing him, noses almost touching. The sleeping bag John had brought with him when he arrived lay unused on the mattress beside the bed.
Bro idly wondered if he would be able to snap a photo of this heartwarming moment without waking Dave up. A few years ago the answer would've been a definite yes, but all of a sudden the kid had developed ridiculous reflexes. When he had casually asked about it Dave had informed him that the reason apparently was "stupid crocodiles throwing shit everywhere". Sometimes, Bro worried about Dave's sanity.
His eyes strayed to the fancy camera laying on Dave's desk. He contemplated this for a moment. He was still faster than Dave. Maybe he could just... But before he had turned thought into action, he was distracted by a rustling from the bed. John was waking up, blinking blearily in the morning light filtering through the slightly broken sunshades meant to keep said light out. Standing absolutely still, Bro reminded himself that John was about as near-sighted as a mole.
However, John did seem to recognize the face inches from his own, if the sleepy grin he was sporting was anything to go by. He bumped his nose against Dave's, eliciting no reaction from the still asleep boy. Pouting slightly, he rubbed their noses together, drawing a groan from the blond.
"Jesus, Egbert. Go back to sleep," Dave grumbled, burrowing his head under John's chin.
"But Daaave," whined John. "I'm hungry!"
"Then go pester the fridge instead," Dave mumbled into John's neck. "No, wait. It's full of shitty swords."
"Heh, I still can't believe you guys live on take-outs," John was now running his fingers through Dave's hair, gently massaging his scalp, and Dave seemed more than happy with this development. "I want pancakes. Do you think I should make pancakes? But I'm guessing you don't have what I need to make them..."
"What the hell do you need to make pancakes? A pan? We have a pan. Somewhere." John laughed and Bro decided that he liked this pancake-idea.
"What do you need to make 'em?" he asked. With a mighty squawk Dave flailed, only to promptly get himself tangled in the bedsheets, and he proceeded to fall to the floor with a loud exclamation of "Fuck!" followed by other assorted swears.
Once John had stopped laughing his ass off, and Dave had ceased the cussing, Bro asked again. He took note of the ingredients and mentally added strawberry jam to the list. Can't have pancakes without strawberry jam.
"I'll go buy stuff. You better be up by the time I get back." With that, he vanished into the hallway. As he put on his totally cool jacket he could hear Dave grumbling about being a part of a family of suck, and John chuckling and claiming Dave was cute when he blushed. Cue more grumbling and chuckling. Bro grabbed his keys and left, deciding to slam the door when he got back. He had this hunch that he wouldn't like walking in on them again. Teenagers...