How Many Times? (A davekat fanfiction)

Chapter One

*****EDIT*****

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

"Urrrg- fuck.." Whined the seventeen year old male, still laying in bed on a school day. He rubbed his eyes, causing him to see nothing but dark strange vortex like swirls when he opened them. He continued his moans of complaint before turning to his alarm clock.

6:23 A.M.

Great.. He thought to himself before grumbling some more and sitting up, turning off the alarm. He had about twenty minutes to get ready before the bus came to pick him up for school.

Yeah, yeah. The guy was seventeen and still rode the bus. That's only because he hasn't put in effort to study for his drivers test yet. He plans on doing that sometime or another, just not now.

He looked beside his alarm clock to see his familiar Aviator sunglasses sitting there, he picked them up and placed them on his face, hiding his eyes. He chose to wear them due to the fact that his eye color was an unconventional shade of red. They weren't a super bright red like blood, though, they had a ring of black around them, darkening the color just a tad.

(A/N: I just don't feel personally that the bright red eyes is really the color to go with, my sort of head canon is that it's still a noticeable red, just not the impossible bright red. Js try looking up #8B0000 for a reference if you don't understand the color I'm thinking about.)

He chose to wear these specific glasses because they were a gift from his older brother, whom he called bro to keep it short and sweet.

After sitting up on his mattress for a good two minutes, he finally stood up and walked out of his room and to the bathroom to start getting ready. He walked in, finding it empty, then closing and locking the door.

He walked over to the toilet and did his business before flushing and walking up to the counter and mirror. The face he saw while looking in the mirror was the same face he had seen every morning for his whole life. It was the same face that he forced to never show a shred of emotion with.

He was a stolid guy with rice white blond hair and fair, pale skin. He pushed his glasses up to rest comfortably on the bridge of his freckled nose.

After combing through his hair and getting it preferably floppy and soft, he started to brush his teeth. He kept up with his appearance to an extent. He wasn't going to walk around dressed for a business meeting, but he made sure he didn't look like utter shit every morning.

The 'he' referred to is named Dave Strider. He lives with his two brothers, one was mentioned before, and the others name is Dirk. Dirk is twenty years old and still lives at home with the other two boys.

Zoning back in, Dave spit out the minty saliva and washed his mouth out with fresh water before walking back to his room to finish getting ready for the day. He opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a dark red and black flannel shirt, along with black skinnies and a black tank top.

He finished putting those clothes on then finished it all off with black combat boots. He kept his image pretty simple and similar, he wasn't one for high end clothes or the latest trends in fashion. He looked back at the time and it read 6:38.

He had only a few short minutes left until his bus would come and pick him up, he personally did not like riding the bus but his house was too far from the school to walk back and forth to.

He skipped downstairs, missing every other step, and bounced into the kitchen to grab a packet of pop tarts before yelling bye to his brothers and running out of the door. He lived on the top floor of a high up apartment building with no elevator, so he had to hurry if he didn't want to miss the bus.