Chapter Two

~Homestuck is not mine!~

John panicked and stared at is PDA, horrified by the dial tone issuing from the tiny device, and then he looked at himself in the mirror. His dark hair was dirty, a few remnants of his woodland shortcut stuck there, and he could see that his one eye was not going to cover up well. His torso was bruised –he wondered if a kick could break his ribs.

In a flurry of polysporin and bandage rolls, John wrapped himself up like a mummy wherever he could get away with it and hobbled across the hall to not only stash away his bloody clothes but dress in newer layers. He carefully manoeuvred a looser set of jeans over his aching hip bones and legs, whimpering to himself as they angered the wounds beneath, and bore the pain in his shoulder long enough to slip on a blue hoodie that would cover the most skin.

As he returned his PDA to his new pockets, John's hair fell forward, shedding a twig, and frantically he scrubbed the black mop to rid himself of the evidence. Wincing at the throb he'd instilled with the action, John parted his bangs again and –thank God!- it covered his eye in a dark curtain that wasn't too conspicuous. He had little time to primp because, as he was cleaning up the bathroom, the doorbell rang and he heard his dad answer it. Scrabbling to beat his father in a chaos if aching limbs, John stumbled into the hall and collided with the railing in time to hear a surprised 'David?' spill from his father's lips.

"Hey, Dave!" John said brightly as his best friend –t-shirt, shades, and all- strolled inside and past his flabbergasted father. "You're early!"

"You didn't say David would be coming over." His father spoke coolly, meeting Dave's eyes through the black shield and frowning at the lack of respect. They stared in what John could tell was equal dislike and, even though John's father always asked, Dave didn't even pretend to remove his shades. "Dear," Now attention was on him. "I have a meeting in-"

"Dad, I'm not your dear… I'm your buddy." John insisted embarrassedly, "We'll be fine! It's just for a couple of hours and then we'll be gone!"

"'Gone'?" John father wasn't reassured.

"Game sale at the depo." Dave supplied, adjusting but not removing his shades. "Bro said it had wicked deals on the good ones, so I told John. We were gonna check it." His lie was so smooth John swore his dad could have slip-'n'-slided on it, and he watched the older man buy it easily.

"Well," John's father was hesitant to leave still. "I have my phone, John. Text me when you leave…" With no good reason to stay and a better one to leave, John's father left the house and was soon driving out of sight.

Dave looked at John, who was still leaning on the railing, and scowled. "What is going on?"

"Nothing!" John thanked the gaming gods that his lie was good this time. His smile never faltered, lighting his face, and his voice remained crack-free as he sprang down the stairs to meet his blond buddy at the bottom. "I told you on the phone, I'm fine."

"John," Dave rumbled, but the dark-haired boy was already wandering into the kitchen in search of something to eat, the excuse of being starving fresh on his lips. He couldn't give Dave any time to speak of his cover would be blown and his fire-spitting friend would find out what had happened.

"Hungry?" John asked as he shuffled around in the fridge. "My Dad grabbed Doritos a couple days ago and" John fumbled when Dave came close and quickly pointed him to the correct cupboard in hopes that he would move back. "and juice is right here."

Unfortunately, Dave didn't move.

"John," From behind, Dave pushed the fridge door closed and pinned him between his arms; the only other sound was their breathing. "what's wrong?" Dave was relentless and, shaking a little, John turned with a sunny smile prepared for the Strider that made his pale lips tighten imperceptibly. John couldn't hold the smile in such close proximity with Dave's disapproving scowl and, with a small breath, he dropped it and looked past Dave at the kitchen door. If he had been quicker, he could have evaded Dave and this wouldn't have happened. If he had,- Suddenly, Dave brought up his hand to touch John's face and the slight black-haired teen flinched back when Dave's hot palm came close to his swollen eye.

"Dave," John began, trying to find a way to explain the response to his touch, but Dave raised an eyebrow impatiently and John couldn't lie anymore. "don't." He whispered desperately.

"Sorry, dude," Dave mumbled smoothly, bringing his hand closer and brushing away the curtain John had made with his bangs. "It has to be- done." John winced slightly as Dave's voice slipped, having finally unveiled the puffy eye and the bruise dominating his cheekbone. John took a quick breath, praying this would satisfy the blond teen and that they could go out and forget his injuries, but John was sadly surprised by what Dave did next.

Dave breathed shakily, his fingers quivering as they touched the swelling and tucked John's bangs behind his ear. His warm hands wandered higher, grazing his head, and traced the growing lump with his mouth open and –for once in their friendship- speechless. The feeling was so unbelievably tender that John didn't know how to respond; his confident, ironic, distant Dave was so close and so expressive with him now that it made John's heart pound.

"Dave, I-" "What happened to you?" Dave asked quietly, his fingers dancing around the lump faintly.

John turned his head away. "School." He didn't dare tell he blond that he'd been cornered by a gang of some of the more athletic kids after school, or that they'd been roughing him up for weeks, or that this wasn't the worst he'd gotten; how uncool would that be?

"God damn it, John!" Dave suddenly slammed his hand against the fridge, making John yelp and squeeze his eyes shut. "Stop lying to me! Who was it?"

"Who wasn't it?" John rephrased sharply, swallowing and using the stunning power of the question to slip out of Dave's trap. He pulled the hoodie tight around himself, finding comfort in the warm thick material, and retreated from the Strider. "What does it matter? It's just a thing, and I can't do anything about it, so-" John twitched and squirmed as Dave caught the sleeve of his hoodie, pulling John back into is reach, and released a sharp but wordless cry when the material slipped of his on shoulder and bared bandage to the world. "Stop it, Dave!" John reclaimed the sleeve –too late to hide the bandages- and fled the kitchen frantically. "Leave it alone!"

"I won't." John's heart tripped at the firm declaration, tripping his feet up in turn and sending him sprawling on the stairs. A yowl of pain drew itself from John's throat, clawing its way to freedom, and John sat there with his body thrumming in pain as Dave caught up with him. "This is important."

"It's not." John said softly, swallowing around the lump in his tight throat. "It's just a thing. I can handle it." John looked up at Dave, his blue eyes watering even through his determination to be 'cool'. "I'm ok."

~Homestuck is not mine!~

This is so fluffy I'm dying writing this! TT^TTo John! Dave! Why do you have to give me so many feels?