Young Volcanoes || DaveJohn AU

Things get really fucking awkward

Trigger Warnings for this chapter: mentions of sexual activity but little to no actual descriptions or imagery of it. Also, this chapter is meant to make you cringe with awkwardness. So prepare for the ultimate cringe attack.

Your name is Dave Strider and it's Thursday. Bro isn't home until late. This is usually when you take the opportunity to relieve some stress. What seventeen year old boy doesn't do it? Right now, you're walking home from school with John. The school's only about five miles away and sometimes it's nice to walk home.

"Hey Dave?"

"What's up?"

"Are we...official?"

"Only if you want to, babe." You smirk.

"Yeah. So...boyfriends?"

"Boyfriends." You respond. Kissing John's cheek as you grab his hand. He smiles and kisses your cheek before resting his head on your shoulder. His house comes into view and you stop in the front yard.

"See you tomorrow. I'll text you."

"No goodbye kiss?" You say with a pouty face. John giggles and kisses you quickly before jogging into the house, waving as he walks in. You smile to yourself and walk into your house. Bro is at work, as usual. He works at a comic shop, selling weird anime shit. "BRO? YOU HOME?" You shout, double checking that you're home alone. Ugh. You're not really but n the mood to do anything. Might as well get a snack. You grab a bag of Cheetos and sit at the table.

~~~

Your name is Bro Strider and thank god for your buddy, David Sprite. He's taking over your shift for you so you can go home early. David is one of your best bros, and you two are very similar. He wears thick glasses with orange frames and has floppy hair that he dyed orange. If it isn't obvious, he really loves orange.

You decide against texting Dave. You'll surprise him with ice cream or some shit like that. You fist bump David as you walk out of the store. On the way home, you pick up burgers and fries from Burger King. You buy a slushie for Dave. Hell yeah. He's gonna love this. Wait, there's a RedBox movie rental station outside the CVS. You rent the entire High School Musical trilogy. Dave will definitely see the irony in this. You jam out to some rockin anime theme sofa in the car as you pull in the driveway. It's only six o'clock and you're already home.

"Yo Dave!" You shout, hoping he'll answer. You don't hear anything. There's an empty bag of Cheetos on the ground. Well, he was home at some point. Maybe he's just got headphones on or something. You set down your bags and jog up the stairs. You open his door quickly without paying much attention. "Yo Dave. David took my shift so I'm home early. I rented High School Musi-WHOA SORRY LITTLE MAN...I'll uh, be downstairs. Just...uh...finish up and come on down. I got burgers." Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. You promised yourself that you'd never be that guardian who walked in on his kid/little brother. You guess he's plenty old enough and has probably been doing this since the beginning of high school. You jog back downstairs and set the burgers out. What should you say to him? Would it just be better to leave the matter alone? If he's doing that, he's having urges or something like that. Maybe it's just puberty. You don't know. Shit, what should you do?

After about five minutes, Dave awkwardly walks downstairs.

"Hey little man. I got burgers." Dave just nods and sits down, his face flushed redder than ever. "Don't be embarrassed. You're not the only one who does it. Just relax. I'm not gonna lecture you or anything like that. It's perfectly natural. I don't know if you heard me earlier, but I rented all the High School Musical movies."

"Really?"

"Hell yeah. I thought you'd see the irony."

"Fuck yeah I see the irony. Let's do this." Next thing you know, you and Dave are passionately singing along to all the music. Every once in a while, Dave takes out his phone and starts texting. You smile and ruffle his hair. He just bats your hand away. That little shit.

After the movies finish, you and Dave go to your separate rooms. Hopefully he isn't still worrying about what happened earlier.

~~~

Your name is Dave Strider and holy fucking shit. You're back in your room after watching all the High School Musical movies. Bro walked in on you...you know. Thank god he's cool about it. He could've been like those stereotypical dads who lecture and tell you how it's wrong and whatnot. You throw your shirt into the corner of your room and flip into your bed, leaving your shades on. You lay back and start to drift off. A sudden tapping at the window wakes you up. You sit up and look over at the window. You crawl over and open the blinds to see John on a ladder up by your window. You smile and roll your eyes as you open the window.

"hey Dave. I got lonely kind of lonely and you weren't answering your phone. I wanted to see if you went to bed already."

"Get in here you dork." You help him climb in through the window.

"Wait, how did the intruder get in?"

"What?"

"How did the intruder get in?" John seems like he's holding back laughter. You sigh.

"How did he get in?"

"In-tru-da window."

"PFT" you laughs little at the awful pun. "Get over here." You tackle-hug him and pull him down to the bed with you. He hugs back and giggles as you pull him down.

"What are you doing?"

"Turn around. I'm the big spoon."

"I wanna be the big spoon!"

"You're a little guy! Be the little spoon." You argue, trying to get him turned around. He squirms around until he's lying flat on his stomach and you're lying on yours on top of him.

"Dave! I can't breathe!" He says into the pillow. You wrap your arms around him and turn over so he's the little spoon. He sighs and snuggles up against you. You pull the blanket over both of you.

"What about your dad?"

"I'll text him and say I left early." You smile and rest your head in the crook of him neck. He winces and curls up.

"John? Are you okay?"

"Remember those migraines I used to have? I told you about them months ago over pesterchum."

"Oh. Is it back?"

"Yeah." You pet his hair softly and try to relax him.

"It's okay. I'll stay up with you until it stops."

"Thanks, Dave." He says, sounding on the verge of tears. He said they were bad, but you didn't know they were so bad he cried. Poor thing. You run your hand through his hair and use the other to take off his glasses and your own. After about twenty minutes, he relaxes, falling asleep. You close your eyes and do the same, dreaming about some stupid candy land. This dream is fucking weird.