It would never cease to be amusing to Dave how John's face would light up when he pulled out a movie for them to watch. Ironically, of course. It wasn't really Dave's thing, but John always let him play his beats or talk about music when he visited, so he could at least do the same for the kid when he came down.

Of course, Egbert also had a horrible habit of drowning the popcorn in enough butter to kill an adult, which didn't fly too well with the blond. It was greasy as shit, and felt gross on fingers, but it did help the flavour. His mouth twitched, showing his minor irritation as he slapped the DVD player closed.

The apartment was a bit warm, but it usually was during the summer. Dave and John sat a distance apart, because of the heat and because they were bros, not star crossed lovers. Dave considered breaking into a metaphor over it, but decided not to for the irony it could produce.

Beside him, Egbert gushed about how excited he was to see a movie at Dave's, talking about how he had only seen Jack Frost once in his life and he only remembered awesome snowman CGI from it. And Michael Keaton.

It was ironic of course to watch a Christmas movie in the middle of July, which is why Dave had picked it. The song at the beginning was pretty awful, but John was already talking about how he wanted it as his ringtone. The snow fights seemed pretty awesome at least.

John let out a huge aww when Jack Frost gave his son a harmonica, though Dave was more wondering what kind of bullshit the man was spouting. Would he still hear the harmonica if he was deaf? Fucking stupid lies, this dialogue was bullshit. How could Egbert even watch this unironically?

His fingers felt slimey and gross as he grabbed another handful of popcorn, watching the man drive through the fakest storm in cinematic history. John was leaning forward, watching intently, as Dave slid back into the couch. This movie was shit.

There was a music cue, and then suddenly random shots of the kid. Dave paused, midway through wiping a hand on the couch to try and dispel some shitty popcorn feeling.

"The fuck just happened."

He looked over to Egbert, who seemed completely engrossed. "Egbert, the fuck just happened in this movie. Did they go through a worm hole or some shit."

John rubbed at his eyes under his glasses getting to his feet as the screen flashed a One Year Later notice. "Dave, I'm just gonna piss. Keep the movie rolling."

"Fuck John at least tell me what happened. You aren't taking a piss until you tell me what just happened in this film."

Egbert was already the door when he called back, "He died."

Well, that made everything fucking stupid. His mouth twitched again, as he continued to watch the movie. It seemed that when he hadn't been paying attention, all the kid had done was walk places to music. And some bullies were being uncool assholes. Whatever.

When the kid began walking in the middle of the road, Dave began wondering how long it really took to take a piss. And when there was a douchebag in a truck on screen, something just clicked in Dave's mind.

The kid's dad was dead.

John had left the room.

Shit.

What the fuck had he been thinking, showing this movie. He should have read the back. Or done anything remotely resembling intelligence. Fuck, this was not what cool kids did. Not even ironically.

He left the movie running, jumping the back of the couch and heading to the bathroom. The door was closed, and he gave a brief knock.

"John, please tell me you're taking a shit."

The door swung open and no one was inside. Dave used every swear word he knew as he checked the apartment, listening to the shittiest choice he had made recently talk in the background.

The search revealed nothing, so he grabbed a house key and ran out the door. He slammed it behind it, locked it, and then looked around the hall. Egbert didn't usually pull shit like this, and it was going to take a bit of work to figure out where he had gone.

Except not at all because the door to the staircase was wide fucking open. Dave really had warned him about the stairs, saying they did lead to the roof but it was fucking hot up there. So of course, in the middle of a fucking warm day, he had to climb the stairs and find his best friend.

The door at the top of the stairs was also open, and the figure sitting with his legs off the edge of the building was obviously John. Kid had no fear of heights, at least. Dave wandered over.

John's eyes were closed tightly, and Dave knew the face he was making. The one you always made when you tried to block images in your head. He knew it too well. With a somewhat awkward pause, Dave stood beside John for a moment. When he wasn't noticed, he sat down.

It was a long way down to the street, but Dave was used to the height. The edge of the roof was hot and it was sticky out, and it probably would have been bright except for his shades. He looked over Egbert again.

"Hey."

No response.

"Egbert. John. Shit, are you listening."

He grabbed Egbert's shoulder, twisting him a bit to the side. John's eyes were wide as they seemed to take in for the first time Dave was up here. There were streaks of tears down his cheeks, and John's blue eyes were bloodshot and probably getting puffy. Dave was no fucking expert on emotion but it was pretty obvious what John was going through.

"Sorry," John said, wiping at his face. "I just need-"

"Don't fucking bullshit me Egbert. And don't fucking apologize, this shit was my fault."

John let out a ragged sigh, taking off his glasses and folding them on his shirt. Both of them sat in silence, which became increasingly awkward the longer it went on. Dave was shit with this kind of stuff. He had no idea what to say or where to start.

Luckily Egbert was always talkative, even when he didn't want to be. "I'm just not good with stuff like that. I... I always just think of Dad. I mean I know he's back now but I can't help thinking about it."

Dave watched as Egbert rested his forehead on his palms, slouching forwards. "And I mean, other stuff gets to me too. Seeing kids in the neighbourhood. When Dad's late coming home. When I hear about car accidents. And I..."

John's voice trailed off. Dave looked down, feeling the concrete grit on his hands as the heat rose from the roof. "Yeah, I kind of get it. When Bro goes out...just...yeah."

There was another silence, and Dave began to shuffle on his seat. It was fucking warm and he wasn't sure if he was doing any good up there.

"I guess this is kind of awkward for you, huh?" John said with a small smile. "It's okay, I'll get over it. You didn't have to come up here. Thanks."

Dave nodded, not really sure how he was supposed to respond to that. Instead they sat in silence again, listening to the traffic and buzzing lines. He felt as if there was something he should say, but fuck it if he knew what. He just did not know what to do.

He was saved from further contemplation or feeling discussion when John rose to his feet, slid his glasses back on, and stretched his arms back. Dave shuffled after him, shoving his shades on his nose. They faced each other for a moment, and Dave gave him a nod.

Shit, that wasn't cool. Nodding? Really? He shifted his weight, giving John a small punch on the shoulder. Surely that would help. Fucking worth years of therapy if the movies Egbert made him watch were right. In return, John gave him a quick hug, which Dave stood and took it like a man. He wasn't usually into guys hugging him, but he could cut Egbert some slack. Dave had kind of caused the whole situation.

It didn't last long, which was also good because it was getting really fucking hot on the rooftop. The two made their way back downstairs, John jumping down flights while Dave just walked down slowly. Cool kids didn't jump down stairs.

"We're not finishing that pile of ass," Dave announced, unlocking the apartment room. "We'll just do something else. I could lay down beats so sick and infectious they'd make you vomit and convulse. Have to rush you off to ER for recovery."

"I brought Con Air."

Dave let out a small sigh, looking over his shoulder as he opened the door. John's face still looked puffy and red. The blond felt a pang of guilt. Fuck.

"Yeah, we can watch Con Air."

John walked past, a small smile tugging at his mouth. But he wasn't excited. John wasn't excited for one of his favourite films. Dave watched him behind his shades, cursing in his head.

Why the fuck had he picked Jack Frost.