ah god this fic is so much fun to write! also sorry for the horrible horror scene, i promise the next one will be worse!
enjoy.
This place is a lot brighter than the last place, and you like that. It's still dim, however, so you have to strain your eyes to see what's around you.
It's weird, the air smells metallic, but it doesn't smell bloody. You hope to God that it's not blood.
Another weird thing- you try to get up, but you're strapped to the ground. The thing holding you down was completely invisible, and it may not even be a thing at all. It was like a force, like you were a magnet, but you could still feel it wrapped around your cold body. You shiver with fright.
For what seems like an eternity, you sit there shivering. You're not cold, but something in you is, and it's chilling you to your core.
You can hear a grinding metallic sound churning from far away, but it seemed too far to actually pose as a threat. You continue to sit, not exactly sure what you are waiting for.
Until your skin starts to prickle.
A chill darts up your spine and you have a small spasm. The churning sound grows louder, and you know it's moving towards you. You don't panic. You just wait, your teeth chattering and your breath coming in and out of your body in quick little gasps.
The noise in growing louder, and object comes into view. It's a tank, and it's moving slowly in your direction. Would it crush you? Blow you up into pieces?
You nearly being to hyperventilate. You yank at whatever is holding you down, but it's not real and your actions do absolutely nothing.
You hang your head, and a shadow looms over you. You're almost afraid to look up, but you do anyway. You are almost shocked to see Bro looking down at you with great interest.
You attempt to say something but you are not in control of your words. The voice heard is yours, but it does not come from your own body.
"What are you doing here?" The voice was echoey and hard to hear. Bro just turns around and looks at the approaching threat and boy was it getting really close really fast.
You both watch as it comes closer, and then it just stops about thirty feet away from where you're trapped. It turned so that the side was facing you, revealing many holes on the side of it.
You both kind of stare at it until the first knife is shot, and misses Bro's thigh by an inch. Another knife shoots out from the machine, and it grazes your face. You are terrified, and momentarily can't move.
You know you're going to die, and Bro is too. You can feel ice cold tears rolling down your cheeks, and you let out a choked sob. Bro gets down onto his knees and hold onto you, his back to the machine.
The knives are firing faster now, and even faster. When the first few miss, you're convinced that the bastard behind this was just messing with you. That's until you hear Bro grunt, and you know a knife has gone into him. You can hear the knives sinking into his flesh. He's bleeding all over you, and you wonder why the knives weren't sailing right through his body and right into yours.
With a sickening sound, a knife manages to hit Bro square in the back of the head, and you see the tip emerge from in between his horror-stricken eyes. He collapses into a heap on the ground, soaked in blood.
You don't cry again. You just kind of stare in shock. The machine has ceased firing.
A figure climbs out, wearing nothing but a gas mask. It seemed human, but it wasn't, and you knew it. It's arms were too long, and its body was very strangely built. The skin- if you could even call it that, looked like the outcome of a human being being skinned and burned alive. It was disgusting.
It strode over, collecting the body in it's long skinny arms. You're angry, you don't want that nasty thing to touch Bro. You can hear its breathing, and it sends chills down your spine. It stares at you for a few moments before carrying Bro's lifeless body away from you.
The floor drops from beneath you, and you wake up.
You look around you in fright. You're always so surprised to be alive when you wake up, because your dreams always seem like reality. All dreams do, really, until you wake up.
Only something is different. It takes you a moment to realize that Bro is sleeping with his arms wrapped around you. You attempt to wiggle out of his arms but even when asleep, he is much too strong.
He wakes up with a snort, his orange eyes darting wildly from side to side.
"...Whoa..." He whispers. "Just fuckin' whoa man."
You smirk at him, satisfied that he knew what it felt like to... Hold on.
"That was amazing what you did in there, but uh, how exactly did you do that?" You ask.
"A magician never reveals his secrets." You frown at him, but decide to cut him some slack. What he had gone through hadn't been easy. Wow, you were unbelievably thankful for him right now. You wrap your arms around his waist and gave him a little hug.
"Thanks for what you did for me Bro... I really can't thank you enough since going through that is really tough... I mean the knives must have hurt..."
"Hey, uh, John, can we not talk about it for a while? I think I need to recover a bit." Bro yawns and sits up. "That's enough homo cuddles for now."
"But I liked the homo cuddles."
"Then why don't you homo cuddle with Lil Cal while I go shower?" Bro stands up, and you shake your head.
"Thought so." Bro heads out of the room, and you just lay there thinking for a while.
You were really thankful for Bro. He had proved to you what a great and responsible guy he could be. All these years you had thought of him as nothing but a lame tool of a white rapper. But now he meant more to you.
He was also hot. That thought had occurred to you several times in the last few years, but you had knocked it out of your mind with the force of a moderately sized wrecking ball.
Now the wrecking ball was old and worn, and it now failed to destroy the thoughts that run through your mind about Dave's brother.
He is an absolute god, like the ones you had read about in ancient mythology books. He was a sexy god.
And you had slept with him.
You, John Ebgert, are now dealing with a new crush. However, you are completely aware that it would require effort to you get it across that you wanted him to dingle your dongle.
Twiddle your diddle.
Lick your dick. You nearly shudder, you haven't had thoughts this gay since you were dragged to see Magic Mike with a few jackasses who were not your friends.
Unless, of course, if you engaged in some hardcore flirting, which unfortunately wasn't your forte. You really don't have a forte, now that you think about it.
You grab your laptop and turn it on. After what seemed like a half hour, you pull up Google. What an amazing and convenient tool. You begin your research.
how the fuck do i flirt with a hot guy
No, these are for girls.
how the fuck do i flirt with a hot guy if im a guy
Useless pieces of junk websites with really shitty graphics. They also seem to exclude the 'if i'm a guy' part of the question. Damn.
how do i flirt with a hot guy?
Oh, the website for a popular teen magazine. Trustworthy enough, though this shit was for girls. This shit was for adolescent girls. But the advice is fairly good, and you read on. You memorize. You plan. You feel like a tool.
You go through more sites until the advice begins to get repetitive, close your laptop, and roll onto the floor, landing on the wood with a heavy thud! You're skinny but tall, so you assume the floor is in more pain than you are.
Bro is still in the shower, which is great, because you want to see what he has stored in his personal fridge. You used to think your dad was pretty weird, but the Striders' apartment alone made your dad look like a boring old man. In fact, your dad is a boring old man, though you suspect he and Bro are around the same age.
You go into the only room that could belong to Bro, and you look around. You had been expecting something horrible, but it was pretty normal. A couple of fancy swords on the walls, a poster here or there, some older looking DJ equipment and a computer and hello?
You spot a pretty big pile of GameBro magazines in a corner of the room, so you go over to investigate. They are all recent issues, and you flip through them, and it hits you suddenly.
Bro writes GameBro. Shit. You are such a fucking idiot it's not even funny. However, you can't blame yourself. You'd never read a copy of the shitty thing your entire life.
You hear the shower turn off, and you spring to your feet. You throw open the door to Bro's fridge and grab something and make your way out of the room and back into Dave's.
When Bro leaves the bathroom you pretend to be inspecting a fetus in a jar, though it's gross and weird and you wish it didn't exist.
You place the container of... Whipped freaking cream you had grabbed from the fridge next to one of your bags, grab your items for freshening up, and proceed to take a nice cool shower, since this is not Washington, and this apartment is literally the surface of the fucking sun.
-
You're all showered and fresh and you feel like a supermodel, but you're just John, and that upsets you a bit. Bro is lounging on the futon while on his laptop. When he hears you come in, he sets it down and gets up.
"Let's go." You get a little excited.
"Where?"
"Somewhere I can get myself a mountain of French toast. We're also taking your car, so grab your keys." You roll your eyes and get retrieve them from the coffee table. As you two ascend the staircase to hell (the lobby), the silence is painfully awkward. Your hands are shoved into the pockets of your cargos, and your eyes focus on your feet.
When walking to the car, you feel like you are going to melt into a pile of ecto slime right there in the middle of the parking lot. You wonder how and why Bro goes out in jeans. Your state is like an Easy Bake oven compared to this, and Washington summers get pretty hot!
Speaking of hot, you check out Bro's outfit. He's wearing a pair of gray jeans with another black wife beater, complete with shades, hat, and gloves. Damn, he dresses like such a tool but he is so unbelievable sexy that you ignore it.
You feel like nothing compared to him. You regret wearing a black t-shirt. Heck, you regret bringing a black t-shirt. You could take it off, of course, but there are two reasons you would never do that ever unless you are in a situation where you have to.
1. You're too skinny for this shit. It's unattractive.
2. It's ghetto as hell. Please.
You both hop into your beautiful rental car, and Bro tells you where to go as you drive. In an attempt to make conversation as well as get your flirt on with the man sitting just beside you, you say in a jokingly cool voice,
"You know, Bro, we slept together last night." He looks at you as you wiggle your eyebrows. He smirks and decides to play along.
"I always do enjoy being the bigger spoon. Perhaps tonight we can diddle each others' dongles."
"It's dingle dongle twiddle diddle."
"What?"
"Never mind." A pause. Not an awkward one but it's still a pause. Bro tells you to make a turn and you do.
"Bro, do you still work on the GameBro magazines?" You ask. The flirting had failed for now, so normal conversation would have to do.
"I'm going to finish up soon, since I kind of have a lot on my plate. It's not like anybody reads it anyway." You frown and feel guilty. It's a pretty shitty magazine, but the fact that actual people had taken time to play games and write about them makes you sad. You sort of wish you had purchased more copies than the four or five you left at home.
"I do binge game from time to time, though." Bro adds with a grin. "The place is in that plaza to the right." You make a right.
-
The inside of the restaurant smells like any old breakfast place, but the inside was pretty big, and the waiting area was neat and well-kept. While you wait for a table, you look at the menu.
"So you're telling me that that sell more than just Texas toast here?" You ask, scanning the menu, and Bro snorts.
He decides to share a menu with you, and you get really close to him so that your arms touch when you look at the choices. You feel like an anime schoolgirl. If your kokoro could doki doki any harder you're pretty sure it would tear a hole through your chest before dropping to the ground and exploding in its landing spot.
You are an idiot, John Egbert. You are an idiot for getting excited at the fact that Bro's arm sweat is smearing against yours. It's gross in a romantic way.
It's actually not very romantic at all. Bro remembers that he came "all the way out to this shithole of a town" for French toast, and to avoid looking like an indecisive idiot, you go with waffles. Damn, do you love waffles.
A woman asks if there is anyone else in the party, and when you say no, she brings you to a table next to the window. It was like a romantic breakfast date, only the date is one sided as well as the romance part.
The sexual frustration is kicking in. Bro is staring out the window like and anime protagonist and it's so friggin' cute you- notice he is looking at you from the side of his shades.
And you're staring. You flush. Oh crap. You've gone and done it. You have turned your life into a really bad television show and it keeps getting worse.
Now, if you don't say something stupid, maybe you can-
"Enjoying the views now, Johnathan?" You wince. You can't get anything to come out of your mouth. You...
"You hair is like a brilliant flame that dances upon your head. Only blond." You are so going to hurt yourself for this.
"Thanks for the lovely words, Mr. Smooth."
"Only the gayest of words for my dear Strider." Bro smirks at you while you bat your eyelashes. You wonder if he know that you're being 100% serious about this whole thing.
The waitress returns, ("Took long enough," Bro mumbles under his breath, and you kick him under the table.) and you order your food. She returns in a couple of minutes with water, and you down it in a few seconds.
"So," Bro says, and you look at him.
"Why don't you educate me more on these nightmares of yours." He raises his eyebrows and waits, while you sigh. You barely know what to say or how to begin.
"Well, they started when I was about thirteen. It happened one night and I couldn't sleep for a while. When I got over it, I didn't have another one until I was fourteen. They happened occasionally for the next few years. They only began to occur frequently about six months ago." Your foot is tapping very quickly and lightly, and you're staring at your hands on the table's surface.
"John, calm down," Bro says gently, and he puts his hand on top of yours. You're too busy flipping out to flip out. You let out a rather shaky breath and continue.
"The third time it happened, my dad took me to several people. A psychologist, a dream interpreter, but nothing worked. They didn't know what to do, and it was a big waste of money, and I had to deal with it. Now they come so often that I'm almost too scared to sleep." You put your forehead on he table and mumble nonsense against it. Bro doesn't seem to have anything to say, so you keep going.
"Now I don't know what to do about anything anymore." You pick your head up. Bro is running his fingers along his stubble, and it's so cute that you almost smile. The waitress brings your food, and her eyes linger on you two a little longer then they should. You two probably look like a couple.
A couple of idiots, that is. The waitress goes away, and Bro finally opens his mouth.
"Why are you so concerned? I'll just take the hits for you, and it'll all be good." Come on. You thought Bro was smarter than this. Wow.
"Bro, you have no idea how guilty I feel about you taking all the pain instead of me. I think it's selfish." You avert your eyes and pick up your fork. You poke at your waffles. They smell awesome, but you're kind of spoiling your own appetite. Bro is almost done with half of his fancy French toast.
"Dude, it's okay. I can handle it. It's all over when the dream's done, isn't it?" He says with a mouthful of toast and strawberry sauce. He wipes the syrup from his lips with a napkin.
"Bro, what will happen when I leave, though? I'm going to college in New fucking England." Bro shrugs. You pour syrup onto your waffles, cut into them, and take a bite. Damn. These are some good ass waffles. You feel better already. Bro must have seen the look on your face, because he was smiling. You shovel more food into your mouth because food makes everything better. All is good.
Bro taps your arm, points to your waffles, and then points to his open mouth. You put a piece of waffle onto your fork and feed it to him, and wow is Bro Strider cute.
"Wow man, you look like you're taking the greatest piss of your life." He says to you, and you laugh.
"I can say the same thing about you!" Bro sticks his tongue out at you and it's covered in chewed up waffle and it's gross, but you don't mind. You don't mind because you and Bro are flirting with each other, and it's perfect.
Bro leans back in his seat, crossing his arms as he exhales heavily. His toast is gone and the waitress was getting more.
"So," he says drowsily. "Your dad takes pretty good care of you, hm?" Okaaay?
"...Yeah, why?"
"I don't know..." He looks up at the ceiling. "Your dad's pretty hot."
"Ugh, Bro!" Your face twists like a wet towel. "Why?" Bro just shrugs.
"Ugh, my Dad's in love with Rose Lalonde's mom anyway," John huffs. Bro reaches over and ruffles John's hair.
"Aww, he's a heterosex just like his son," he coos through pursed lips, and you frown even more.
"I-" you begin to say shout, but you catch yourself. Bro quirks a tar-colored eyebrow. You look down at the single cold waffle remaining on your plate, and dump a lifetime's supply of syrup on it before attempting to shove the whole thing in your mouth. Bro looks at you all funny but you ignore him.
The waitress brings his French toast. Perfect timing.
-
In the car, you need Bro has you stop at a couple of stores, so you run in and buy some things. Food, video games, music, electronics. Things that are essential for survival on Earth.
On the way back to the apartment, a sudden thought occurs to you, and you chew your lip.
"Bro, can you read minds?"
"No."
"Okay." You are so relieved. Bro is looking at you all funny again. Whatever.
You miss the next turn, increasing the time to get back by a whole two minutes. Bro seems a bit pissed off at you, but you ignore it.
In the apartment's lobby, you bump into Bro and mutter an apology before proceeding.
While going up the stairs, you trip and nearly fall backwards into Bro.
After Bro unlocks the door, you both reach for the knob, and your hands touch. Bro stares at you, and you are scared for a moment. Bro opens the door, you two step in, and Bro closes it back.
"Damn, I thought I had the right to open my own damn door, Egbert."
"Blue eyes, white privilege," you say, tapping your glasses. Then you head towards Dave's room, you should really talk to Jade...
"John. Hold on."
You stop dead in your tracks.
"Shoes off in the house," Bro reminds you, and you calm down and take off your sneakers. Okay at-
"John, come here." Bro says firmly, and you tense up. You walk towards him stiffly, and he's glaring at you. You can see his orange eyes under his shades, so you stare down at your socks. Jade had bought you those socks from a Japanese website, and the cute characters are now striking you as amazingly interesting.
"So John, what's your deal?" Hm? You give him a puzzled look.
"John, don't play games with me. I know something's up."
"What?" Shit. He's onto you. Where was the dude in the zebra costume when you needed him?
"John."
"Bro."
"Johnathan B for butt Egbert."
"Bro you are invading my comfort zone." And with that you back away and fast walk into Dave's room. Sheesh, that was a close one. And you're also a coward. A big wiener sausage, but whatever, everything is hard. Everything but the internet. You get onto your laptop and open Pesterchum.
- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 13:14 -
EB: rose.
EB: rose i'm going to cry.
A sudden cold feeling sweeps upon you but you ignore it, since the window is always open and wind was not a weird thing.
TT: What's the matter, John? Are you not enjoying Bro's company?
EB: no, i'm enjoying his company all right.
EB: a little too much, perhaps.
EB: i seem to have developed a crush on him. well okay, i didn't quite develop it, it kind of slammed into my heart like a hand to an ass.
EB: bro's metaphoric hand slapped my heart's ass.
TT: Beautiful. So have you tried flirting? Oh, wait.
TT: Watching John Egbert attempt to flirt is one of the saddest things any human could ever witness.
TT: My Bad.
EB: hey! actually, it was pretty bad. i got the advice from a teen magazine website.
TT: Ouch.
EB: for girls.
TT: Oof.
EB: yeah, so i
You don't finish the sentence because someone clears their throat behind you. And by someone you mean Bro fucking Strider. Your whole body goes cold and you yelp with surprise.
EB: ROSE! OH MY GOD!1111!
TT: What?
EB: he's sitting right behind me
EB: watching our conversation and I THING HE MIGHT HAVE SEEN PRETTY MUCH ALL OF IT FUCKING HELL.
TT: Oh my God.
EB: what do i do?
EB: rose?
TT: gvihuyggycfrdrcft cgy
EB: rose?
TT: I'm very sorry, I'm laughing so hard that I smashed the keyboard with my fist. My bad.
EB: rose do you think this is some kind of joke?
TT: Rose Lalonde proceeds to "ROTFL".
EB: Goddammit!
TT: Rose's posterior disconnects from her body.
TT: She seems to have "Laughed Her Ass Off".
EB: lhao.
EB: oh my god he is just here watching me flip out and get sassed by you and it's super awkward because i'm not saying anything to him!1!
EB: he's reading everything i'm typing right now and i don't know what to do!
TT: Talk to him.
EB: rose no.
- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 13:20 -
"John," Bro whispers in your ear, and you nearly jump out of your skin. You turn around to face him. He's sitting cross legged behind you.
"How did you-" you begin to ask, but he shushes you, pressing a finger against your lips too hard for it to be romantic in any way.
"So, daddy's boy here digs dick?"
"No! I-" His finger is pressed to your lips again.
"I knew something was up. And I agree with Lalonde, your flirting fucking sucks." You are seriously offended and pull his finger off of your lips. You huff and cross your arms, but he ignores you.
"So, what else did you learn from your teen magazine, huh John?" Bro wiggles his stupid eyebrows at you. Why the hell are they so dark? He probably fucking dyes his hair blonde. What a poser.
"Come on John, share the info. Nobody's listening but me." He's on the verge of laughing and you are so mad, you're so fucking mad that you-
You grab his face and kiss his smug-ass face. Right on his lips that were about to laugh at you. Here's a tip you had remembered from your shitty teen magazine.
Kiss him first.