Author's note:
This is my first ever Homostuck fic, so be gentle. It'll probably only be a two-shot, but we'll see how things turn out if it's well-received. ( Hinthint: this means review, coughs. )
It's written in Dave's POV, but can be changed if requested.
The pairings are Kismesis!DaveKat and Matesprit!GamTav.
Warnings for this chapter: Drug use, cursing, flirting between two boys / aliens, whatever.
Disclaimer: Homestuck doesn't belong to me, yada yada.
Your name is Dave Strider, and you have a faint sense that this evening is going to take a surprising turn.
So here you sit - shoulders hunched over uncomfortably, elbows bent at the knees and cramped into the already too small of space of an all but rotted down, lanky ass tree house accompanied by three trolls. On either side of your thighs there's another pair; you're all huddled together in the black of night, save for the light of all of your phones sprawled out in the middle of the stuffy circle. You found yourself getting into the grove of some sort of… cycle - a cycle of passing a clear and purple stained glass pipe in a counter-clock wise rhythm. You can't help but fidget with the ripped fabric of your warn-out jeans; though you weren't nervous. Strider's don't get nervous. Let's just say you're a little… apprehensive? No, that's not it. Hesitant, perhaps. You've never done this kind of thing before – and you can already hear John and Rose's nagging in the back of your mind.
You push all of those unwanted thoughts away immediately.
Heavy smoke filled the limited space, bellowing out of the quaint, uneven window behind your back. The bowl was then passed along to you, and you're bringing it to your lips the next second, lighter coming to life as it's shoved over the herb. Smoke weaved its way to your lungs, the THC filtering straight to your brain. Your chest is burning, and oh gog why haven't you tried this sooner? You lean back against the windowsill, holding the smoke in your lungs as long as you can, simply enjoying the buzzing in the back of your mind and the cotton-filled feeling in your ears. But then you, of course, lose your cool kid façade slightly, faint coughs and chokes erupting from the pits of your chest. It only made the burning worse, but dammit, you couldn't give a shit. You're exhaling into the dimming lights, watching through un-shaded, glossy eyes – because honestly, wearing your shades in this kind of dark would just be ridiculous – as the smoke curled in on itself, streaming up in random swirls and circles. Heh. That was pretty cool.
"Now that's what I'm all up and motherfuckin' talkin' about, my brother." Gamzee had then coiled his lengthy, scrawny arm around your shoulders, giving them a light squeeze whilst reaching with his free hand to pull the pipe from your faintly shaking fingers. You chalked that up to the bud and coughing fit, attempting to shift away from the clown. You couldn't be assed to shrug him off – he always seemed to worm himself back in, one way or the other. If Gamzee wasn't all over you, he was laying in Tavros' lap. And if Karkat wasn't out of reach, you knew he'd be doing just the same to him. Which you also knew the stubby troll was silently grateful for as he shot you a small snicker as he watched you try to wiggle out of the hold. You simply flip him off, earning a plethora of curses and hits to your shoulder.
The highblood was forced to remove himself from you as he flicked the lighter, pressing the carb with his thumb. This dude could fucking smoke. If Tavros hadn't cleared his throat just then, you swore the pothead would have left the bowl half-cashed with a single hit. You raise your eyebrows at this, but don't say anything. It wouldn't matter either way – there was a rather large bag of weed resting casually in his polka-dotted lap. You could only assume he'd drag you all along into one of his outstanding marathons. You're not quite sure you know what you just exactly got yourself into.
"Heh, thought you were, uh, gonna smoke it all, Gamz." Tavros is laughing quietly, peeling the pipe out of Makara's hands. You're zoning out at this point, staring down at your iPhone as it bleats to life with an assumed pester. You gather it up and it nearly blinds you from the sudden closeness – you aren't used to looking at the screen without your shades - but you blink it away to open up the all too familiar persterchum application.
- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 02:45 –
EB: dave!
TG: sup
EB: you're out with gamzee, karkat, and tavros again, right?
TG: egbert
TG: how did you ever come up with that idea
TG: was it rose
TG: it had to be rose
TG: dammit lalonde
EB: uh, yeah, it was!
EB: she's worried you're doing something
EB: well
EB: irresponsible, as she so kindly worded it.
You can't help but cringe slightly at this. How did you know this was going to happen? The psychic ones are obviously Lalonde and Pyrope. You're just the timey dude. Setting your phone down on your lap as the bowl is passed back to you, and you hit it slightly harder than before. Though this time you manage to hold back from spewing uncool coughs, smoothly exhaling the smoke into Karkat's face.
"What the everloving fuck, Strider?" He's shrieking at you, and you smirk up at him. He's being so obstreperous that you're compelled to reach your hand out to cover his mouth so that he doesn't alert anyone to your current shenanigans. "Mmmph—mmster, mfa fuffn fill you."
And then your cool kid façade is shattering again as you're uncharacteristically chuckling, passing off the bowl to Gamzee. "Oh, Karkles, you're so fast to woo me. You're gonna fill me, huh? I can't wait bro." He's fucking biting your palm now and you're forced to pull away, inspecting the new puncture wound that was soon brimming with bright red blood.
"Augh, I fucking hate you, Strider! You worthless nook sniffing, bulge sucking, feculent shithole!" The little guy thinks he's funny as he's palming your jaw and jerking your chin upwards, but you're not having any of that as you slyly reach out to give his horn a slight nuzzle. And then he's staring, eyes wide as if a deer stuck in headlights, and you can't stop from laughing. "F-Fuck you, Strider!"
"Anytime, Vantas." You won. You totally fucking won, he's pouting and hastily reaching out for his phone to probably ignore you. All the while Makara and Nitram are laughing quietly to themselves, whispering things back and forth that you couldn't be assed to try to listen in on.
Oh. Right. You forgot about John.
EB: oh sweet niblets, dave, you really are, aren't you?
EB: mister strider you could at least give me an answer so i know what to tell rose!
EB: dave?
EB: bro are you there?
EB: shit you're not like overdosing or anything are you?
TG: egbert
TG: get those panties out of a twist
TG: yeah sure im chillin with some trolls
TG: gettin macked on
TG: nothing new
EB: you usually respond way faster than this, dave.
EB: you aren't just chillin with the bros.
EB: what are you doing, strider?
TG: dammit john what are you my fucking mother
TG: okay yeah im fuckin smoking a bowl
TG: its not like im in some crackhouse
TG: snortin line of fuckin line of coke
TG: and shootin heroin into my veins
TG: just smoking some simple ganja chill
EB: wow, dave…
EB: i guess i should be relieved that's it but i don't think that's such a good idea either…
EB: and i really think rose would agree with me, dave.
TG: oh my gog
TG: john
TG: have you ever heard of a pothead flipping off the fucking handle
TG: and don't you even dare mention makara because he was sober when that shit happened
TG: it chills you out
TG: and gives you hella fuckin munchies
Speaking of which, you turn your gaze over to Tavros, whose just now taking his hit. The clown probably hogged it again. "Yo, Nitram, you still got them flamin' hots?" You could really go for some of those and the aj that's been nestled in between your thighs right about now.
"Oh, yeah, hold on." He's shoving the pipe into Karkat's all too eager fingers before reaching around to the small backpack tossed into the corner. Your mouth is watering the second he fishes it out, though you all so calmly reach over to take them. The bag is neatly resting in your lap beside your aj, your phone blipping like crazy and you swear it's driving you insane.
Gamzee seems to notice, seeing as he's back around your shoulders and fucking papping your face. "Whoa there, motherfucker. You all up and got some harsh vibes goin' on." And he's practically purring in your ear and jegus flipping christ this clown. You shove him off of you with a blunt no, but that doesn't really seem to faze him as he's back to your side. Why did you even decide to tag along with them again?
Allowing a somewhat exasperated sigh push passed your chapped lips, you ignore the clown practically sitting in your lap long enough to snatch a few hot Cheetos before going back to your phone.
EB: i guess…
EB: but dave i really don't think you should continue on with these shenanigans.
EB: its worrying both me and rose.
EB: strider
EB: you're smoking still aren't you?
EB: how long have you been at it?
EB: dave
EB: gog dammit strider!
EB: don't make me get rose!
TG: ok bro chill the hell out
TG: take a deep breath
TG: there great
TG: now im going to pass out all over this hot clown ass
- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 03:21 -
But of course you don't really mean that as you're once again pushing Makara off of you to allow yourself some space to hit the bowl again. You loved John, in the most best bro kind of way, but you really didn't feel like hearing him nor your sister chide you for 'doin' you'.
Whatever the hell that even meant.
"Quit sexting your matesprit and take a damn hit already, nooklick." Vantas is pushing your hands up towards your face at this point and you're jutting your elbow out to force him to back off. You take your hit and quickly pass it along, silently wondering how it wasn't cashed. But then you realize Gamzee must have put new bud in already, probably while you were busy being berated by the almighty John Egbert.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Vantas?"
He doesn't understand your question at first, but then he's flushed red and his lips are curling up in disgust. "Shut the fuck up for once, Strider."
"I'm feelin' some serious wanna-be-kismesis vibes from you tonight, Vantass."
The look on Karkat's face is utterly priceless – sharp fangs poking into his bottom lip and eyebrows furrowed so far down you could swear it looked like he had a unibrow. Though he doesn't even bother retaliating this time around for some reason unbeknownst to you.
You simply shrug it off, slipping your fingers into the bag of cheetos nestled in your lap, and pop a few into your mouth. "Skip me this round." You mumble out after taking a swig of apple juice. "My head's fucking swimming faster than Michael Phelps—"
"Nobody fucking cares."
"—if he was outswimming a shark in an ocean that's fish all died."
Tavros always seemed to enjoy your ramblings, seeing as how he was silently chortling next to Gamzee as they took their respective hits. Karkat was simply facepalming, stealing a faygo bottle from Makara's lap.
"Hey, uh, guys." Nitram butted in, earning the group to settle down and stare at him, which resulted in him shifting nervously. "It's, uh, getting a little, uh, cramped in here. Maybe we should, uh, go somewhere else?"
You shrug your shoulders, not really complaining about the idea because really, it was cramped in here. "I'm down."
"Whatever." Karkat mimics your shrug, which you of course notice, though he doesn't. You smirk at this.
"Sure, brother. Let me all up and put this motherfuckin' shit away and we can get the hell outta here."
And that's how you found yourself walking into a store for late-night munchies and fireworks. This was definitely not going to end well.