JohnDave Lockers, Music, Pain pt 4
"There are a lot of stairsssssssss," John groaned, dragging a bag up the steps.
"'Eh. You get used to it, walking up them three or four times a day. Just wait until we start unpacking." Dave smirks, butting his head into John's ass. "Now walk faster."
"Uuuugh. Where did the pistol pony rodeo go?"
"Probably still sucking face in the lobby." He laughed lightly, hiking the two backpacks up on his shoulders again. "But seriously move. There's something up there I wanna show ya."
"Fine." The two made their way up the stairs, finally reaching the top, sweating like dogs.
"That wasn't fun."
The blonde shrugged, opening the door. "Welcome to the Strider House."
"Rather empty." John pointed out, motioning to the relatively blank walls and lack of furniture.
"Well duh we kinda just moved." Dave dropped the backpacks on the floor, dragging John towards his old room. "But empty is the best part."
"Why's that?" he asks as the other shuts the bedroom door. "It's kinda boring having it all mmph-!" John's eyes widen comically as Dave smashes his lips against his. Dave pulls away, throwing his glasses off to the side, giving John a chance to say "O-ohh," before kissing him again. Winding his arms around his waist, Dave smirks, spinning them around and pushing John towards the bed. The dark haired boy falls back against the mattress, the other crawling on top of him quickly. They're kissing again, John's shirt halfway off before they hear the front door slam open.
"Crap." Dave hits his head against John's chest, scowling into his shirt. He has just enough time to roll over off of him someone knocks loudly on the door.
"Hey are you two up here screwing without us?" It's Bro.
"Well if they are don't bug them!" That's Jake.
"But don't you want to join them?" It's hard not to hear him smirk. Jake sighs audibly and walks away, but the silhouette of Bro's feet can be seen under the door.
"WE'RE NOT FUCKING BRO GO AWAY."
"You sure little man?" He chuckles.
John laughs as Dave's face heats up as he stands and storms over to the door. Opening it, he shouts "GO AWAY" and slams it again. "Fuckin cockblock," he grumbles, and John pokes a protruding pouty cheek.
"Do you guys have any food here?"
"Course not."
"Well then won't he have to go buy something fo-"
"Oi, me and Dirk are gonna run to the supermarket for food, we'll be back in half an hour!"
"Alright!" John shouts back, grinning at Dave. Not thirty seconds after the front door slams shut, Dave is back on top of John, kissing him roughly.
"Told you it'd be worse."
"Fuck you."
"Hey, less talk, more dragging boxes downstairs!"
"Why aren't you making sir adventure help!?"
"His butts sore."
"SO IS MINE!" The younger boys shout in unison. Bro smirks as their faces heat up, exchanging glances.
"I'll get him to help later," he shrugs as they reach the lobby, dropping the boxes next to the door. John sits on one elbows on his knees. Dave drops to the floor next to him, groaning.
"Hey don't stop here, go put them out in the truck." Dave made a high pitched whining noise. "I'll buy you guys pizza."
"All I've eaten is pizza and Chinese take out for the past two weeks! Can't we get a actual vegetable or something?!" John thunked his head on his knee.
"Vegetables clog your arteries." Bro stated. "Now lets goooo."
"Auuuuuuuuuuuuugh." They stood, hefting up the boxes.
"WHO YOU GONNA CALL?! GHOST BUSTERS!"
"Is that seriously your ringtone?"
"Yes fuck you." John set his box down on the sidewalk, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "It's my dad."
"Are you gonna answer it?" Dave shoved his box into the U-haul, sitting on the ramp.
"I don't know…" John looked at it guiltily. "I feel like I should since we're heading back home and all."
Dave shrugged, pulling a juice box out of his pocket. "Whatever, dude. You can come live with us for all we care."
"New voicemail!"
"I don't wanna listen to it." John stared at his phone, the old hinges starting to crack.
"C'mon dude, it's gonna be like a howler from Mrs. Weasley or some shit."
John sighed, flipping through the menus. "Here we go."
"JOHN." His dad's voice was loud and shaky. "SON, YOU'VE BEEN GONE FOR A WHILE, AND I WANT TO TALK TO YOU. I…I'M STILL VERY ANGRY. BUT I WANT TO TALK TO YOU. YOU SAID YOU WERE LEAVING WITH THE STRIDERS TO TEXAS AND I JUST WANT TO KNOW WHEN YOU'LL BE HOME. I DON'T CARE IF YOU JUST TEXT ME A DATE, I JUST WANT TO KNOW WHEN I CAN SEE YOU AGAIN. PLEASE."
The message cut off, leaving a guilty silence. John didn't move a muscle, keeping his head hung.
"John, are you okay?" the black haired boy sniffled loudly. "John?" He let out a choked cry, flinging himself at Dave.
"I'M A HORRIBLE SON!"
"No you're not-"
"YES I AM! I RAN AWAY WITHOUT TELLING HIM AND I NEVER CALLED HIM OR ANYTHING!"
"But to be fair, he practically gutted your room, and forbade you from seeing me."
"…but I shouldn't have run away…"
"Dude, there seriously isn't anything else he can take away from you that wouldn't require me calling CPS."
"But-"
"I'll have Bro talk to him. Tell him he took good care of you while you were here, and you helped us move our shit and stuff. That we were perfect angels."
"We fucked eight times Dave."
"And Bro and Jake fucked like eighty. My point is, we'll figure this shit out."
"Should I call him back?"
"Do you really wanna put yourself through that right now?"
"I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS ARE TALKING ABOUT BUT WHAT I BET WILL HELP IS BREAKING YOUR BACK MOVING BOXES YEAH?"
"BRO YOU PIECE OF-mmph!" John pulled back, smiling lightly.
"You're so uncool around your brother dude."
"Bullshit."
"Mmhm." John pecked his cheek, pulling him up. "Wanna go make it nine?"
A/N So yeah enjoy this shitty filler chapter ima go procrastinate some more.