Your name is John Egbert and Dave is walking up to the tattoo parlor right fucking now.
You skitter behind the front counter, almost tripping over your own feet. Your heart is racing and you don't know why. Okay, maybe you know a little bit.
You try desperately to clear your head as the door is pushed open. Dave walks in, a ghost of a smile on his face. You can't breathe. You cannot breathe.
"Sup?" he asks innocently, and your heart might just beat right out of your chest. His voice is just how you remembered it: cool, calm, and even.
"Hey! This is new! What're you doing here?" Did you sound too enthusiastic? Oh god. Ohhhh god.
"Just thought I'd stop by…I was thinking about maybe getting a tattoo."
"Oh, really? Huh, you don't seem the type, to be honest." Oh jeez, don't judge him like that…what is wrong with you?
Dave raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, okay Egbert." He knows your name. "Just something small and ironic, to piss off my cousin. It's worth it just to see the hilarious look on her face."
You wrinkle your nose a little, against your better judgment. Fortunately, Dave just looks mildly amused. "You know, Egbert," he starts, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. You wish he'd call you John instead. "I think you're judging me. Not that you haven't had enough time for that already." You're not sure you quite caught that last sentence, since you're completely distracted by the fact that he saw right through you.
"S-Sorry! I'm not judging you, I swear! I just think…maybe you should sleep on it."
"Fair enough," Dave nods, the corners of his mouth lifting by a fraction of a fraction. Or so you think. Maybe you're just imagining it. It's hard to tell.
"I'll come back tomorrow, Egbert?" He says it like a question.
"You can call me John, you know."
"Okay, John." You suddenly feel warm. "And you can call me Dave."
"Right, see you tomorrow…Dave."
And suddenly, he's gone. You sigh, slumping over onto the counter and groaning. You did it. You're still hurting a bit over his girlfriend, but you did it. You managed not to make a fool of yourself. And somehow, you're sure of that.
Your name is Dave Strider and you're starting to regret leaving the tattoo parlor. If you wanted, you could've stayed. You could've had a whole conversation with Egb-John. For God's sake, there are a million things you could've said.
Well, at least you said you'd be coming back tomorrow.
In truth, you hadn't been planning to get a tattoo at all. It's true that it would piss off Rose, but it would hurt like a bitch. Not that you're afraid or anything. Tch.
Nah, you totally lied about wanting a tattoo. It was an excuse to come and check on John.
Why had he run from you like that in the first place? What did you do? Maybe he was just embarrassed?…
Rose.
It was because of Rose.
It had never even occurred to you that John might've…misinterpreted your meeting with your cousin. Of course he'd be embarrassed; if any of your friends thought they'd interrupted a date, they'd feel awkward too.
You nodded slightly to yourself, deciding you would explain to John tomorrow what was really going on in the café.
Wait. You can't just…tell him. You have to explain without explaining. This kinda shit takes some tact.
You spent the rest of the afternoon planning out your visit to John tomorrow, pausing only to talk to the occasional customer. Most of your regulars were local teenage girls, who nearly visibly swooned following your every casual smirk. You couldn't say you disliked the attention, but it wasn't really your thing. You liked being under the radar, and this definitely wasn't under the radar.
Oh well. It passed the time.
Finally, it was closing time. You hung around in the shop for a while though, idly sweeping the floors while your mind wandered.
This time, it was you who watched John as he left his respective store.
Your name is John Egbert, and today Dave Strider is coming to visit.
You hope he wasn't serious about that tattoo, though. Maybe you can talk him out of it. You'd be way too nervous to give Dave a tattoo anyway.
When Dave shows up, he's cool and calm as usual. You, however, are quite nervous.
"Hey, Dave. You came." Oh my god, of course he did. Jeez, you imbecile!
"Pff, of course I did. You expected me to skip out on you?"
"N-no!" You blushed a little and turned away from Dave, more than a little embarrassed. "Whatever! Anyway, I'm not sure you should get a tattoo…"
"Yeah, I wasn't going to. I can piss off Rose without permanently dyeing my body. You saw Rose yesterday, right? I was sitting with her in the café…"
Your breath caught in your throat. She wasn't his girlfriend. Holy mother of fucking Jesus.
"O-oh, yeah, I saw her. She's really p-pretty." Oh god why did you say that.
"Hah, yeah, a lot of people say that. But don't waste your time, man, she doesn't swing that way. Not to mention she's got a pretty devoted girlfriend already."
"A-ah, I didn't mean it like that! Also…good f-for her…"
"Dude, no need to be so nervous. Something buggin' you?"
Shit. "Oh, uh, no…I'm okay. I'm just…a little tired! Yeah, that's all!" Nice save.
"Okay, man. If you say so. Anyway, I sorta noticed…you've been kinda staring at me?"
Your heart pounds in your chest. "Oh gosh, I'm sorry, I just… you always look so cool… how do you do it? I'm so awkward all the time…"
"Dude, no need to apologize." Dave punches you lightly in the shoulder. "I like your dorkiness." You feel your face heating up again. You're not sure how much more of this you can take. "Oh shush, Dave. You don't know what you're talking about."
"Are you shitting me? I always know what I'm talking about!" Dave crosses his arms and pouts exaggeratedly.
It's fucking adorable.
Suddenly, Dave drops his little whiny act. "Hey," he says. "Why don't we go get, like, lunch or something? Maybe tomorrow?"
Well then. Looks like he took care of this step for you.
"Yeah, sure, that sounds great! Did you have a place in mind?" You're grinning, any efforts to be cool long abandoned.
"Actually, I found this epic sandwich place downtown. I'll give you the address. Meet me there tomorrow at noon?" You hand Dave a pen and a scrap of paper, which he scribbles on while he's talking. "My friend Karkat works there, too. He's kind of an ass, but if you don't piss him off you should be fine." Dave finishes writing and hands you the paper and pen. He heads for the door, but stops and gives you a small wave before letting it swing shut behind him.
You look down at the paper, wondering if you know where the little restaurant is already.
Dave has indeed written down the address, but that's not all.
"turntechGodhead."
A Chumhandle?