That moment when no-homo no longer applies

Way Too Hot

      John stood silently, fist against the now deceased machine. The cold air that had been coming out of it had come to a slow stop, and John had discovered for the first time that both Striders have practically identical death glares. As fascinating as that was, it was also mildly terrifying. Just as he had lowered his arm back to his side, the identical faces had gotten a lot closer. Dave had gotten a lot closer in a lot less time, but Bro was in no less hurry. Before John could figure out what was going on, Dave had him by the arm, pulling him along downstairs.
   "Dave, calm down! You're hurting my arm! It was an accident," John squirmed and wiggled his arm, in a petty attempt to free himself. Dave in turn had just yanked him closer.
   "John, you broke the fucking AC unit. In July. In Houston. You're going to get the entire goddamn building on our asses, and trust me, this hasn't been the first time. Do you know how much of our money has gone into that AC? Too much. And do you know how much shit we've gotten for it? Way too much. Bro's going to have a fit when he's done talking to the landlord." Dave let out a heavy sigh, and released John's arm, stopping at the door to his apartment and opening it up. He guided John inside and closed the door behind them both. 
   "Look, man, I'm sorry. It's not that big of a deal, Bro might not even be that mad. I dunno. I think the landlord might give us a break since it wasn't entirely us this time." Dave made his way into the kitchen, grabbing to cold bottle of apple juice from the fridge, and tossing one to John. He wiped off the sweat that had already begun accumulating on his forehead and sighed. 
   "You better get ready for a fuck ton of cold showers, Egbert, 'cause they're about to be you're new best friend."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

   It had only been an hour after the incident, and John was already sitting on the couch, shirt draped over his head, and sweat clinging to his bare chest.  Dave was sitting beside him, hunched forward and attempting to balance a tower of empty apple juice bottles on the coffee table. He very carefully placed the last bottle on the tip of the tower, pulling his hands away slowly and looking over his masterpiece with appreciation.
   "I'll call it, The Taj Ma-Strid-," before he could finish, the tower came tumbling down with a clatter as the front door swung open.  Dave let out the most pitiful groan as Bro emerged from the hall outside the apartment, closing the door behind him with a sigh. 
   With a cracked voice, Dave whined to his older brother, "Broooooo. Do you not know how to open a door calmly? Like, holy shit. You destroyed a masterpiece. You motherfucker." Bro ignored his nagging and collapsed on the couch between the two teenagers, very purposefully shoving them apart. 
   Dave sighed and stared down at the pile of bottles that were one a magnificent palace. 
   "So, what'd the landlord say? How much are we paying this time?" 
   "None. Well, we aren't at least." Bro leaned back against the couch and stretched his legs out over the bottle pile. Dave looked to the elder Strider and raised an eyebrow.
   "We aren't? Who is?" Bro's lips curled into a smile, and he turned to John, looking him in the eye, not that John would notice with those shades of his. 
   "Take a guess." 
    

A/N This is kinda short, but hey, better than nothing right? I'm really working on getting this all updated. Woop Woop. Thanks for reading. This is like a cross between Ouran and Homestuck or something. Sheesh