Hello, mah lovelies! Time for another update on this story! Man, I started this one, then got an idea for an even BETTER one, and now all I can think of is jumping the gun and posting them both, but I'm going to control myself. This story isn't going to be long anyway, and I already have two stories going right now, plus some fic requests, so I need to cool it. Already so many follows and faves! I'm so excited! Every Homestuck fan I've met has been super nice, but you never know the people you'll meet in a new fandom. So thanks for the welcome wagon! Now, for your promised love! Orajima, I LOVE YOU TOO! LET'S GET MATCHING TATTOOS OF DRAGONS! MitsukiMadara, hello, love! It's been a while! Yes, I am in the fandom. Whoa, how did you know I'm writing more?! So glad you like it! Kira-LIme Orijima, aw, I like his overbite! I imagine it as something that gradually gets less and less noticeable as he ages. Sometimes what we love most about a person are their imperfections, love! Haha, yes, I do work more often than not. darkestlight96, so glad to have you here with me! You're really such a sweetie! I enjoy ranting, keep it up! damagedAxion, I try to update often! :D Alright, let's get this show on the road! (We're going to swap POVs in between chapters now, to save confusion.)
Confession 2: I think it's important to include playlists in at least one story, though I've done it in most of mine. The quickest way to learn about a person is to scan their library. If any of you ever want to send me songs, I encourage it! And I would suggest reading the chapters with the soundtracks at the beginning of each one.
Destrokk
(MGMT)
[Hi Fi fellas and Low Fi chicks. Hair is how we take you there. Bones is how we make it now. Now I'm after a walking disaster. We live life, we live it large. In control, taking charge. You are soft, and we are hard. You don't desire to step to our fire.]
You are John Egbert again. You've been cleaning obsessively since the last message from Dave, which is still flashing on your computer. You've been glancing at it off and on while scrubbing your counters and re-re-rearranging objects on your bookshelf. No, you don't have a problem. You're not nervous. Why would you be nervous? Why would anyone possibly think that? No, no, you're not at all. Just very…clean. Clean, but definitely not nervous. You wonder idly who you're talking to.
After you realize you've been scrubbing the same spot for the past five minutes, you freeze, laughing slightly to yourself. Okay, so maybe you're a little nervous, but you have reason to be! For as long as you can remember, Dave Strider has been everything you're just…not. Of course, everyone is different, and you should be happy as you are, and blah, blah, blah, all of that jazz. At the same time, you're just a little put off about the fact that he's the embodiment of cool. Even the lame things he does come off as smooth, and you've been witness to his drunken messages, which usually turn into mistyped rap battles with himself, so that's saying something. Even then, when you imagine he's probably stumbling over himself and blindly typing his messages to you, doing who knows what with God knows who, he manages to be cooler than you. And that's why you're nervous.
You're also pissed slightly pissed off that he planned this all out without telling you. Now he's going to be here in your apartment for a few days, and today is your only day off. Great planning, Dave. Simply superb. Still, you can't stay mad at him. He meant well, and you know that, despite being irritated. He never really plans things out before he does them, and his spontaneity is part of what makes him cool, so you accept it all. Damn, you sound like a housewife, and you haven't even seen the bastard yet. Then, the weight of that word hits you. Yet.
The awesome guy you've told everything to since you were a kid, the one you sent gifts to every birthday, and every Christmas, the one you've confessed your fears to, and in turn, listened to his odd fear of puppets, yes, him; he's coming here to see you. The guy you know by his bright red text and quirks that he's proud of, the one you wish you could be more like because he's just so comfortable being himself; he's going to be in your company while you have nothing planned. The self-made DJ who taught himself everything he knows and expects you to go to a nightclub with him like you're actually cool; he's going to realize what a dork you actually are.
Oh shit. Now you're nervous.
Just as you're thinking of this, another noise from your computer alerts you of a new message. But it's not from Dave.
-tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 15:37-
TT: Dave tells me he's on his way to see you. I know you had no idea, so I'm assuming you're most likely freaking out right now. Are you alright?
Rose knows you so well. But then again, she knows everyone so well.
EB: i'm totally fine. why wouldn't i be fine? just sitting here doing nothing. yup, that's me.
TT: You're doing that thing again.
EB: thing?
TT: Rambling. You almost sound like Strider when you do that. What are you really doing?
EB: cleaning.
TT: I thought you did that last night? You must be anxious. What time is he supposed to be there?
EB: uh… his plane left around 11 i think.
TT: It's about a four hour flight, so it should be soon.
EB: wait, what? it's already after 3? oh shit!
TT: Relax, John. What are you so worked up about? I'd imagine you will just talk to him about all the things you two normally discuss in your free time, which is constantly. I believe I talk less to Kanaya than you talk to Dave.
TT: And for whatever it's worth, I also believe him to be just as nervous as you, because it's once in a blue moon I hear from him, yet early this morning he's messaging me all about his flight to surprise you. He's easier to read than you though, despite what he thinks.
EB: so, uh…
EB: if you can read him…
EB: what do you think he's thinking right now?
TT: You can ask him yourself when you see him, John. I'd wager he'll pester you soon enough.
EB: :(
TT: Also, don't fret about trivial things.
EB: what are you talking about!
TT: You won't know where he stands until you ask the questions. Good luck.
-tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 15:45-
You stare at your computer, wondering how she does that. Has she read you even further than she let on? Does she know about something you don't? Why does talking to her always make you think about this stuff!
And then, another message pops up, bringing you back to reality.
-turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 15:47-
TG: fuck airplanes
TG: fuck them all the way and not call them back ever
EB: bad flight?
TG: long story short
TG: somehow when i put my suitcase in the compartment above the seat i failed to notice i had a guest
EB: uh…
TG: fucking cal Egbert
TG: fucking cal was in my fucking suitcase
TG: and that puppet bastard fell on me while i was listening to the set im using for this gig causing me to make a scene
TG: have you ever made a scene on an airplane
TG: people tend to notice
EB: oh my god.
TG: what
EB: this is hilarious.
TG: fuck you too
EB: so what are you doing now?
TG: hailing a cab while plotting revenge
EB: hey! i only laughed because it was funny! that hardly merits revenge!
TG: not against you dork against my bro
TG: he knew this would happen
TG: when the fuck was he near my suitcase is what id like to know
EB: probably at your place?
TG: christ hes probably setting traps all over my place as we speak
EB: hehehehehehe.
TG: the things i go through to see you
TG: you better feel goddamn special egderp
EB: oh no you don't, you're only coming here for your gig. you're not guilt tripping me!
TG: and now the cab driver is talking about his family
TG: no one cares about your kids or your wife or your picket fence house
TG: oh my god
TG: hes not stopping why do I deserve this
TG: cal and a deranged family man in one day this is not going well
You laugh quietly to yourself as he keeps going. One thing about Dave you've always found admirable was his ability to hold a conversation with himself. He's not going to stop until you interrupt him, but you're enjoying this particular rant too much to think about doing so.
TG: im about to chew my own face off here
TG: maybe that will make him shut up
TG: wait who am i kidding thats his goal
TG: even without a face id still be pretty kickass
TG: would you still love me egbert
EB: no. it's all about your face, strider.
TG: well damn
TG: im getting out btw
TG: outside your building as we speak
Your heart skips a few beats, and the air seems to rush out of the room. He's still typing, but that's nothing new. He'll keep on for a while. You'd already forgotten how close he was to you, and that he had your address. He's had your address since you were kids; that's how you sent gifts. Where did you think he was going?! He came to see you! Of course he's outside, you dork!
Again, you wonder who you're talking to.
You jump up from the computer desk and sprint towards the door, but alas, you are clumsy as fuck. Your feet are not accustomed to fast movements, and betray you. It seems while you were talking to Dave, you somehow managed to tangle your feet in the wires of your computer speakers, and now, it's almost like you just ran straight into a trip wire. Toppling over, you bring your speakers with you, but at least the monitor is safe. With a resounding crash, you land under the desk, and stay there for a moment, grateful that no one saw that.
Getting up from the floor, you make your way to the door, wondering what the dragging noise behind you is. As soon as you wrench it open, you're face to face with the guy behind the red text for the first time ever, and you're completely speechless.
His hair is light blonde, and is disheveled in a way that you can't tell if it's supposed to be styled or not. You know that's how he wants people to feel about it. He and his irony. On his nose are the Ben Stiller shades you gave him all those years ago, covering his eyes from you. His shirt is white with red sleeves, a broken record in the center of his chest. His hand is raised as if he were about to knock, and his eyebrows are high above his sunglasses as he observes you.
"Still haven't gone wireless, huh?" he asks, and you look at your feet to see the wires are still wrapped around one of your ankles. You dragged the speakers all across the apartment with you in your hurry to greet him.
"Dammit," you curse, shaking your leg to try and sling them off, but to no avail. Finally, you pull your leg up so you can reach the godforsaken things, lose balance, and begin hopping to try and save yourself. A warm hand is placed on your shoulder, and another goes to the wires to disentangle them. You're embarrassed as hell that this is his first impression of you while he looks so awesome. Fuck your life. Fuck your life like Dave wants life to fuck airplanes.
"Seriously, how do you dress yourself? Isn't everything here like a murder weapon if you have no coordination?" Dave asks you, still with his poker face on. The only indications of his amusement are his raised eyebrows.
"Shut up," you mutter, kicking the wires for good measure before looking back, and slightly up at him. He's also taller than you. And damn, does he look so good in those shades…better than Stiller ever thought of looking. Realizing you're staring, you quickly shove yourself in his arms because of the stupid conversations you used to have as kids. You told him if you ever saw him person, you were going to give him a huge bro hug, and he told you to make sure it was as awkward as possible.
"I'm so glad to see you!" you say truthfully, squeezing him around the neck. He hums in agreement, his arms sliding around your waist. You're glad he seems to remember the promise you made way back when. Or maybe he's just open to hugs, you aren't sure. You're not as good at reading people as Rose.
"Same here, Egderp," he says.
"Stridork."
"I'm not the one who carried my whole damn computer to greet you."
"It was just the speakers!"
You're laughing like a loser, because of how natural this is coming. It's awkward, yes, but it's also comfortable. In this room, with a guy who knows everything about you, and you about him. Well, okay, you know what he lets you know about him. Either way, you're happy as can be, and because of this, you don't register exactly how long this hug is becoming. Finally, your attention is drawn to his suitcases.
"Where's all your equipment?" you ask.
"I had it sent to the club already. No use carrying that shit all the way here, trust me. 'S expensive as hell, I'm not going to risk it."
"You have an accent," you laugh.
"Fuck you, I do not."
"I do not," you repeat, imitating his Texan drawl. And then his hands are at your sides, tickling you while pushing you away, and you're still laughing because he most certainly does have an accent, and it's the cutest fucking thing ever.
In fact, you think while you watch him kick the case you can only assume Cal is in against the wall, you might even tell him so. Imitating his accent, of course.
[It's just the way you talk so loud. It's just the way the bones fall down. We be the Ritalin to calm you down! We be the Ritalin to calm you down, okay?! We love you in glacial ways. Yeah, but you're gonna know if you keep on asking questions! You're gonna know real soon! You say, "Hey, I never fall" as you're falling down. Your blood is all around you now, but you see nothing at all. You say, "hey", you get against the wall! Yeah, you get against the wall!]
Sachi: I really love these two! I identify more with John, but I'll try my hand at Dave next chapter. I think I can embody cool for once in my life. Hopefully. Review for love! They make me super happy, you know!