Author's Note: Warning: The usual blood you should come to expect with BRO's POV, some make outs, and some ironic mentions of past sex, as well as BRO just being a kinky fucker.

You are searching as fast as you can, and so far you've found what appeared to be Dave's main residence, a decently sized park that's mainly comprised of trees, benches, and paths through thick shrubbery. The only part of it that resembled a playground was a swing-set and a small slide, so there probably weren't that many kids that visited, keeping the place nice and quiet most of the time. You were just passing through on your search for Dave, but this place was permeated with his scent, attracting you to it instantly. You can see why he chose it, though you personally would have picked something a little more private and dark, like the sewer. Plenty of rats for a quick snack down there too. (You don't actually need to eat, but you still enjoy it.)

Unfortunately, Dave isn't here right now it seems. You naturally gravitate towards the largest tree in the park, wanting to simply wait there for Dave to return. You find some of the lower branches can't quite support your larger weight and one even snaps right off under you. Luckily you had your nails digging into the bark and didn't have much trouble hauling yourself up to the next tree limb, which was stronger than the last and lets you quickly maneuver into a comfortable position with your wings folded neatly against your back. From the scratches scattered across the bark, you could tell Dave had been here and the thought relaxes you slightly. Now to wait for Dave to come back. Shouldn't be too long since the sun was already setting; he typically had liked to sleep during the night rather than the day the way you preferred. You always had been a relatively nocturnal person.

You wait. And wait.

It's been an hour or two and now it's fully dark out, just the way you like it. Dave still isn't back and you're getting stiff. You are fully aware that if you try and sleep here you'll fall off and break your wings or something, which would be a spectacularly shitty way to go. You normally would sleep during the day, but due to you placing Dave higher up in your priorities than sleep and spending all day looking for him, you're worn out, but you really do have to sleep. You can't wait here so you'll just have to come back in the morning for Dave, as soon as you woke up. You are hesitant but know that if Dave were here right now he'd squawk about how depriving yourself of basic necessities wouldn't help anybody but the animals that'd feed off your dead body. You would laugh and tell him that he was overreacting, you could afford to skip a day's worth of sleep every once in a while, ruffling his hair (which he hated you doing with a passion) and would do as he said anyway because you'd comply with pretty much whatever the brat wanted, provided it wasn't harmful to the family. Not that he ever asked much of you, so he had no idea just how much power he held over you.

You need to find somewhere to crash. You don't really know your way around here so you've no idea which places are most likely to have cops and shit hanging around. You'll happily take on some poor sap that happens upon you, and while you could still easily kill a few armed people, it would put the rest of the force on your and Dave's tail. You normally would fuck around with the residents here and there, leave a few "horrific and brutal" crimes in your wake for people to gawk at and call the work of a new serial killer or gang, just to watch people run about in a panic like chickens with their heads cut off. But amusing as it was, you couldn't put Dave in danger over some petty entertainment.

You go with the default of sleeping in the sewers. It screws up your sense of smell, overwhelmed you the first time you tried it after making your getaway from Scratch Corp, but it's a fair trade for the relative security the underground tunnels afford you. You slip down from Dave's tree and only have a short distance to a manhole cover, right down the street that runs alongside the park edge. You see a curtain twitch in the window of a house that rested right up against the empty street, opposite the park, and you swear you see the glint of red eyes before the porch light flicks on and you're forced to be quick about scurrying down the ladder you see once you move the metal cover out of the way. Pressing your wings close to yourself you crawl in head first, contorting your body once you're inside so that you can reach up with one hand to pull the manhole cover back into place over you, the other hand on the metal rungs of the ladder to prevent you from falling. You turn back to facing downward as you make your way down, hooking the tops of your feet over the bars and supporting most of your weight with your hands below you. It's not the most convenient pose, but if there is anything you don't expect at the bottom of the ladder you can comfortably attack it first rather than be trapped in a compromising position.

You hear a familiar squeak from below you as you near the bottom and leap down from the ladder, pouncing on the rat and ripping out its throat with your teeth in one fluid, cat-like motion. You hold its carcass between your teeth as you glance around. You're in a park of the sewer system that didn't actually contain sewage, just junk that the maintenance guys used to keep things running smoothly. You still hear flowing water in the distance coming from the left where you could see the tunnel made a sharp turn, leading to the sewage if the smell was anything to go by. You sigh with partial contentment at being in somewhat familiar surroundings again, though part of you lingers on the thought of Dave.

Those eyes you saw in the window were red and reflective the way Dave's were, tugging at memories of the time one of the tinted lenses on Dave's ask had broken, letting you see his true eye color of a brilliant red, the color of freshly spilled blood instead of the light brown you originally thought they were. The pair of eyes you had seen weren't the right shade of red to be Dave's though, more of a maroon. Then again, your eyes used to be bright orange when you were younger and by now they had darkened to more of an amber color, so it wasn't entirely unlikely that he had changed in the five years you'd been apart. You're a little excited to how he's grown. Okay, a lot excited if you're honest with yourself. He was lean before, but if he's anything like you or your brothers, he'll have put on a nice bit of muscle by now and grown a few inches. You could go on for a while about what he might look like, but put simply, he'd probably be pretty damn attractive.

You gnaw on the rat for a bit as you think about Dave, the strange eyes dismissed from your mind. After you finish off the rodent, bones and all, you yawn and curl up against the wall, shutting your eyes and falling asleep almost instantaneously. You dream of eyes, red and blue.

BRO: Get woken up by John ==

You jolt awake when the manhole cover clangs loudly, probably some idiot jogger going for a midnight run. Nonetheless, after waiting a few seconds you climb up the ladder and lift up the cover a couple inches so you can take a look outside. Your vision, slightly blurry from sleep, barely catches sight of a black haired boy in a t-shirt running around the corner connecting this street to the next. Normally the fact that he was wearing a t-shirt wouldn't have even registered in your mind, but it was cold out today and any sane person would at the very least have worn a jacket or something.

You're about to go back down so you can sleep again, but you realize that it's not even close to midnight. More like mid-morning, the sun fully up. Shit. You overslept. You only meant to sleep until a little before dawn so you could get back to Dave's roost without getting spotted, but that plan's out the window now. You raise up the metal circle more, looking for any other people that would see you if you got on street level. The park is clear (it's a cold Sunday morning so that's no surprise), as is the street on either side of you. You grin at your luck and shove the lid to the side, scraping against the concrete as you pull yourself up and out, stretching before moving the cover back into place.

You don't want to push your good luck so you're quick about jogging over to where you'd waited for Dave before, grinning. Your smile drops when the sharp metallic smell of blood enters your nose. Your breath catches in your throat when you see Dave, lying in a pool of his own blood with his right wing bent at an unnatural angle, his form barely hidden from outside view. You have to hold in an anguished shriek as you run full tilt towards him, by his side in less than a second. "Dave!"

You nearly sob with relief when he cracks open his eyes to peer up at you. You ask if he's alright, which is stupid, he's covered in his own blood and his mask is partially ripped off his face, but you both know what you mean. Will you live?

He nods slowly, wincing as he shifts on his stomach, trying to get up. "None of that, ya hear? You'll just hurt yourself more, Davey. I've got you," you gently place your hand on his arm, stopping him from struggling any more as he looks up at you in confusion. You realize your mistake now but it doesn't really matter at this point. "It's your name. Dave."

He nods, seeming to accept it, breath coming in ragged gasps as you pull him carefully into your lap, fingers ghosting over his wings, not quick touching enough for Dave to feel it, but enough for you to access the damage. His broken wing has already started to heal but it needs to be reset (read: broken again) so it can heal properly, or else he'll be crippled. You feel for broken feathers that need to be plucked, but you just come across one that needs to be pulled out, along with a scabby patch where a handful of feathers had been yanked out, probably all at one. You're proud of him for managing to take care of that himself.

You murmur into his hair that this'll only hurt for a second and Dave nods against you, wrapping his arms around you and hiding his face in your neck. You grasp the blood-dripping feather between two fingers, yanking it out with a quick tug. Dave bites down on your shoulder to muffle a scream, his teeth breaking your skin. You let out a quiet hiss on reflex but don't mind; the jerking of the broken bones must have hurt like hell.

He unclamps his teeth and makes a whining noise in apology, leaning away from you. His mask is still twisted to the side (it's probably better to just cut it off now than to try and fix it) and you can see his mouth, smeared with your blood and you've got to say, it's a good look. Predictably, you have a thing for blood (and biting). Dave's aged every bit as nicely as you thought he would, and you impulsively pull him closer and bring your mouth down to his neck, kissing up to his jaw and making him gasp. You aren't sure if it's because he liked it or because he didn't and pause, waiting for his next move to determine your own.

You're delighted when he clicks a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and moves his head so that you can better access his neck, even with your mask getting in the way of things. You nip lightly at the pale skin and Dave shivers. After you sufficiently cover his neck with kisses and the occasional almost-bite you pull back again, eliciting that frustrated sound once more from him. You shake your head no at him (despite still wanting to have him make those delicious noises again) and try to pry him off you. Dave clings to you and you want to relent but he yelps suddenly, his wing having been tweaked again, which just proves exactly why this was a bad idea right now. Especially in a public park in broad daylight. You might be a tad of an exhibitionist, but you weren't crazy.

You whisper soothing words into Dave's ear as you begin internally panic. With his wing the way it is, you can't even smuggle him into the sewers; his wing is too fucked up for him to fold it properly so he can fit down the manhole. You can't leave him here, he'll get killed. Speaking of which...

"Dave," you say in a tight voice, "what happened to you?"

He exhales and mutters "Nothing," in your language.

You place a finger beneath his chin and raise his head, making him look you in the eye. "Dave."

You only have to say his name and he tells you. "Look, it was really stupid," he began, "I wasn't paying attention like I should have, I fell, broke a bone and a couple feathers, that's it. Nobody attacked me, so you can get out of mama bird mode now Bro."

You would have bristled at the comment but it was true that you liked being protective. "Alright," you say, chalking his brevity up to the pain the boy must be in. "Can you get off my lap now? As much as I like the position, I'm starting to lose feeling in my legs."

Dave gives a slight breathy laugh, wincing again as he did so. He slowly back off, unsteadily standing before you. You get to your feet and offer your arm as support, which he gladly takes a hold of and leans against you. "So what now?" you ask him, pecking him on what little unmarred cheek you could get to.

"What do you mean 'what now'?"

"What am I going to do with you? You're incapable of resting o hiding in your usual spots, same with mine, and you aren't going to be flying anytime soon."

He looks guilty. "Sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault." Only he would try to apologize for getting a potentially life-threatening wound.

He looked about to protest, but decides against it when you give him a light-hearted glare.

"Actually, I know a place we could go if you're willing to carry me up to a second story window."

"Anything for you, princess," you say, switching out the mock glare in favor of a grin. God, it was great to get back to the old joking around after so long. Seriously though, it was a relief to hear that he had a place to go, maybe an abandoned building.

"Just, uh, the current tenant isn't exactly my biggest fan right now, so you'll have to tie him up or something. Not kill him or anything," Dave says it quickly, a burst of chirps, trills, and clicks.

"You.. revealed yourself to a human?" You try and keep the anger out of your voice, grin slipping from your face, not wanting to jump to conclusions.

"No! …Yes. Sort of. It just happened! He hasn't told anybody at all, trust me I'd know, I've been watching him twenty-four seven, okay not quite, but you get the idea! He's an absolute scaredy-cat; he only actually came out of his apartment after like an entire week of hiding! Sure, I didn't exactly help with that, but I promise that if you don't hurt him too bad I'll keep an eye on him myself! It'll be like one of those proving myself things where some rich kid whines he wants a puppy and the parents think he isn't ready so they give him a goldfish instead, which he ends up flushing down the toilet. Except instead of a goldfish I get a human, and he doesn't die 'cause I'll look after him and- " you cut him off by pressing your hand over his mouth, avoiding the injured skin on his face. Holy fuck he sounded just like you had when you tried to explain to DSP why you kept hanging around John. You withdraw your hand from his face, having effectively shut him up.

Dave clears his throat and looks anxiously up at you, your expression deliberately unreadable. You sigh dramatically, "Fine, you little shit, but I'm spoiling you rotten." You knew from your experience with John that it wouldn't do any good to try and keep him from his new pet and if it meant you could keep Dave safe, you'd consent to going back to Scratch Laboratories on your own, so this is just fine.

Dave gapes at you. "Wait, are you being serious right now? No joke, you aren't pissed that someone saw me? At all?!"

You just roll your eyes at his reaction. "Nah, I had a pet human of my own for a bit, 'till he up and moved all secret like while I was out doing somethin' else. He was the sweetest blue-eyed thing you'd ever seen. Still is, actually, I caught a whiff of him while I was looking for you yesterday."

"Pet. You kept a person as a pet. Isn't that just a little fucked up Bro? I mean, even by your standards." He looks mildly disgusted.

"Oh shush your yapper, I didn't kidnap him or nothing, just messed with him a bit, a scare here and there for laughs," at this point you could tell he was considering your words, undoubtedly comparing your relationship with John to his with his pet. "Stole a kiss here and there, some cuddling too, just a little lovin'." Dave's about to interrupt again, but something makes him stop. You guess he's already had a make-out session or two with his toy, so he knows he can't judge.

"I suppose it's alright then," he says eventually.

"Good. We'll hide out in the shrubs and shit until dark, then you can tell me the way to your boy-toy's house and I can fix you up there."

"Bro?"

"Yeah?"

"What are we?" You open your mouth to say that nobody fucking knows other than you're better than humans, but Dave cuts in. "And I don't mean species wise; I meant well, this is kinda incest, and I was wondering why exactly you felt the need to worship my neck a few minutes ago."

You take a moment before answering. "I love you to bits, plain and simple. Both family-wise and romantically. You didn't have an issue when DIS and Hal got together for a while; they're actually related, plus they weren't exactly quiet you know." You know Dave caught your double meaning when he makes a disgusted sound.

"Trust me, I know. Hal wouldn't stop talking about it for weeks," he shudders. You grin again, knowing this to be true. You'd actually had to ask Hal and DIS to shut the fuck up about their apparently amazing sex-life, and please for god's sake, warn the rest of us before screwing out in the open. Ah, memories.

You continue, "And I'd be whatever you want, whether it be caretaker, brother, or lover, though I don't see why I should limit myself to just one. So which one sounds best to you?"

He gets up on his toes to kiss you, both your masks doubling the amount difficulty you have as you flick your tongue over his lips, tasting your own blood on him, and like hell that wasn't a turn on.

After a bit, the two of you separate, leaving the other equally breathless. You smile and raise an eyebrow at Dave questioningly.

He grins at you then says, "I missed you," and whispers, "That last option sounds pretty good." (Orat least what passes as a whisper in your language, really just lower and more warble-y.)

You and Dave turn away from each other, now focused on finding a place to hide out for the remainder of the day, though you still have to help support him.

BRO12-395: Be Dave ==

You are the red-eyed boy.

You also happen to be the red-haired boy.

Who also just happens to live in a certain house across the street from a certain park due to certain reasons involving your mob-boss of a dad, Spades Slick. You will not go into great depth, or any at all on these reasons due to having promised Dad you wouldn't blab about what he does under the metaphorical business table on the conditions you could stop moving every damned year and finally settle the fuck down. Your one eyed old man had been giddy when you'd laid out your terms, saying it was "baby's first blackmail, and shit, gotta get the damned camera so we can save this memory for later". Weird old fucker.

But you don't bother thinking over those things anymore, mostly because they are utterly useless memories at the moment, and therefore not your concern.

No, what your concern was right now was the freaky fuckers making out in the park.

You'd seen the larger one last night when you'd opened the curtain in the living room an inch after seeing something big pass by, the wrong shape do be a car. You had been more or less disturbed by the winged whatever-it-what's presence, having just walked back from John's a few minutes beforehand. You also had multiple weapons of just about any kind you could care to name (which was quite a few thanks to your dad's unusual brand of homeschooling) and training in how to use all of them. Your house was practically an armory and Dad was passed out on the couch with the poker channel playing on tv, so you were about as safe as could be. At the time, you dismissed the freak of nature as some street performer or a cosplayer, despite their motions looking far too natural to be faked. The crawling face-first into a manhole leading down to the sewer just added to the whole uncanny valley effect.

But now, after waking up late and heading downstairs to grab some coffee, you just witnessed some fucked up monster reunion through your kitchen window. You've seen some weird shit, that's in the job description for being the son of the infamous Slick, leader of the Midnight Crew, but this was a new level of strange. And yet... yeah you can't really find a single fuck to give if there are gay feathery assholes running around or not, as long as they don't hurt anybody. Maybe it's just because you haven't had any caffeine manually injected into your bloodstream yet.

You chug your scalding espresso down in record time, waiting for it to take effect.

As your brain power gets up to functioning capacity, you remember that John had said he visit the park pretty often, albeit in passing conversation. And that the claws on the strange beings didn't exactly point towards friendly, neither did the ample amount of blood that coated the monsters' forms. You had kinda assumed the blood and shit were fake, along with the rest of the "costume". But if you're going with the theory that it's not fake, then it stands to reason that neither is the blood. It was probably fa-

Nope, not fake at all, you think as you set your coffee mug down on the ugly countertop, watching the scene outside with a morbid fascination. The bigger one had caught a rabbit with alarming ease for using nothing but its (sort of) bare hands and tore it to pieces before tossing the smaller, injured one the remains, which it ate hungrily, getting blood everywhere.

You scribble down a note to Dad on a bright pink post-it note (courtesy of Ms. Paint, your babysitter before you outgrew needing one/Dad's crush that he finds a hundred different reasons to invite over), saying you're going out for a while but you'll be home soon as possible.