Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/143011.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Dave/John
  Character:
      Dave_Strider, John_Egbert, Mr._Egbert
  Additional Tags:
      Hanging_Out, awkward_first_time_sexual_shenanigans
  Collections:
      The_Homestuck_Gift_Exchange:_Winter_2010
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-12-22 Words: 3044
****** Sleepover ******
by Dimago
Summary
     Dave and John rarely get the opportunity to hang out face-to-face.
Notes
     This takes a few liberties, and assumes that somehow Bro is still
     alive at the end of the game, and the world is pretty much restored
     to how it once was (and also that ornery kids who tasted awesome
     superpowers would deign to finish compulsory education).
John’s house was inconspicuous. It resided in a row of identical houses, in a
winding labyrinth of streets only navigable to those familiar with the area.
All the roads had friendly-foresty sounding names like “Briarwood” and
“Chipmunk Lane.”
Dave crumpled up his printed Google maps directions once he confirmed the house
number and snorted. It was a far cry from the hustle and bustle of the cuty,
but not a bad place for a nerd like John to grow up. He pressed the doorbell
and heard a resounding tinkle from inside the house. Seconds later heavy
footsteps thumped down some stairs and barreled straight for the front door.
John flung the door open so hard Dave was surprised it didn’t fly off the
hinges.
Dave took a step back and looked John up and down rather blatantly. Time had
worked its magic. Whereas Dave towered over John a few years prior, a growth
spurt had closed that gap and Egbert was a only a few inches shorter. His
shoulders were broader and he had a sturdier build than Dave without being
chubby. A miracle, if the boy’s father was as passionate about baking as Dave
heard.
John had maintained his style of dress and mannerisms. Huge glasses slightly
askew, bootleg Slimer shirt worn with no sense of irony, hair ruffled and
sticking up in all directions, smile showing off buck teeth that were currently
being tamed by braces. John hadn’t changed much at all.
“Yo,” Dave tilted his head up in greeting. John jumped onto the porch and
clasped Dave in a bear hug before the Knight of Time had a chance to duck or
even raise his hands in defense. “Nng. Nice to see you too.”
John let go pounded Dave on the back a few times, openhanded. “I was beginning
to think you weren’t going to show up!” Remembering his manners, he stepped
aside to let the other boy in and close the door. “Then dad started shoving
brownies and cookies and stuff in my face. He knows too many sweets make me
break out, but he doesn’t care! We almost had another fight, but he probably
thinks it’s just teenage drama.” Dave was thankful that his friend was as
oblivious as ever and didn’t notice the blush staining his cheekbones. Even
John’s grabbiness remained unchanged by the forces of puberty and high school.
They trekked through the living room and up stairs. Dave appreciated the
roominess of the house, although the choice in fine art (garishly colored
pictures of clowns) needed improvement. He dumped his overstuffed bookbag in
John’s room.
“Do you need to change or take a shower or something?”
“Nah,” Dave shrugged. Compared to tromping around LOHAC in a felt suit, a trip
from Texas to Washington was a piece of cake. “I can do that later on. What do
you do for fun around here, bake pastries and read Nicolas Cage fanfiction?”
John grimaced and turned to leave the room before he went into a rant about
Betty Crocker and how she got her batterwitch hands in everything. Dave
followed; half listening and grunting noncomittal answers at appropriate
moments.
“And don’t even get me started on Gushers!” the Heir of Breath finished
dramatically. He flopped onto the couch and grabbed blindly for the remote.
Dave sat next to him, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
“Okay, I won’t. Shut up and find something to watch.”
The two spent the next few hours flipping through channels. True to form, there
was nothing interesting playing on any of the 500 channels they filtered
through. Anything that did have the misfortune to be playing was subject to
mocking comments. John perked up when a familiar figure in a tattered white
tank top appeared on screen. Dave rolled his eyes wrestled the remote from his
friend. He would never be in the mood for Con Air, no matter how much John
stuck his bottom lip out and tried to make his eyes water mournfully.
Eventually, delightful smells started to waft from the kitchen. Neither boy had
paid much attention to the sounds of cooking, but Mr. Egbert had been busy.
Dave’s stomach rumbled even as he crossed his arms and slunk further into a
disaffected “cool guy” pose. John got up and went to the kitchen briefly, then
stood by the door and waved Dave in.
Dinner passed without much commotion. Mr. Egbert had prepared steaming plates
of porkchops, macaroni and cheese, and green pees. Strider was never one for
vegetables, although he would not admit to having such childish preferences,
but he wolfed down everything else on his plate. Bro was an excellent cook,
even if his meals were a bit plainer, but once Dave had gotten old enough to go
down to the convenience store and buy burritos he hadn’t cooked much.
Dave was on his second helping of mac and cheese when he felt something fuzzy
and warm prod his leg. He kept his poker face up and kicked back slightly
harder. John jumped a little. His face broke out into a little grin that could
only be described as “aderpable” and he returned the assault while scooping a
generous helping of pees into his mouth.
They continued their game until Dave cut off the elder Egbert. “John,” he said
blandly, “are you seriously playing footsie with me?”
“Nope. Sorry, was just stretching my legs.” John blushed a little at being
called out, but recovered quickly.  He gave Dave another smile and finally left
his damn leg alone. Mr. Egbert just raised an eyebrow and looked back and forth
at the two.
---
No visit was complete without co-op games.
“Wait, seriously?” Dave thumbed through the cases and noticed a few that looked
familiar. “I was hoping you had expanded your catalog beyond Kirby’s Epic Yarn
and Donkey Kong Country Returns.” He remembered the immense clusterfuck of
trying to play those games with John years ago. Many things happened. A lot of
yelling and harsh jabs were had all around.
“Those games are awesome and sometimes I question your tastes. But I guess this
would appeal to you.”
Dave inspected the cover. Monster Hunter? This he could play.
Of course, Dave was obnoxiously good at the game. John pouted every time he
missed or didn’t dodge properly or tried to consume a potion and got knocked on
his ass.
“Hang out with me enough and maybe my skills will rub off on you,” Dave
smirked.
“I still kick your ass at Kirby,” John shot back.
---
After the food and fun came a shower. Both boys thanked Mr. Egbert for the meal
and bid him goodnight. They retreated to John’s room, and John nudged the door
closed.
“Where am I sleeping? The floor?”
“Bed’s fine,” John said. He eyed Dave briefly. “if you’re okay with that.”
Dave shrugged and face planted onto the bed. It was soft and the sheets smelled
as though they were freshly laundered. The bed dipped under John’s weight and
he turned his head to glance at his best friend.
“Hey Dave, what are you doing after graduation? It’s a few months away, you
know.”
“Haven’t really thought of it.” Dave shrugged.
John attempted to look nonchalant. “Thought about college? I mean, I’ve thought
about college. I sent in some applications. Just a few, because dad and all my
teachers were breathing down my neck about it. I was thinking it would be cool
if we went to the same place.”
Dave was silent for a moment while he thought.
“You aren’t talking about… clown school, are you?” He was struck immediately
with a flying pillow.
“NO. Why is that even… no.” John sulked and pretended to nurse the severe
wounds to his ego. A clown school? Please. He had even replaced all his
vandalized posters to remove all traces of jesterdom from his walls. Secretly
he kept them folded neatly in the closet.
Dave sat up and tossed the pillow back. They sat shoulder to shoulder for a
moment in silence.
“Well, as long as it’s not a freaking school for pranksters. I was planning on
becoming some kind of awesome hiphop vagrant and traveling the countryside,
starting sick fires for cash. But I guess being in walking distance of everyone
would be cool.”
John tensed beside him.
“…You have invited Rose and Jade, right?” John deflated and looked a little
guilty. Busted.
“Of course I talked to them about it, but it was kind of, um, I maybe didn’t
directly invite them? I mean, they’re part of the extremely tiny group of
people I can really call friends. And it would be awesome if we all spent our
young adulthood hanging out in a dorm. Like Friends!” He paused. Now or never.
“But I was kind of maybe propositioning you with a different intent?”
John felt like freaking out and doing a backflip out the window. Propositioning
was not the word he wanted to use. Dave was staring at him. Strider’s lips and
eyebrows betrayed no particular emotion.
“John. I do believe you’re trying to court me.” John’s face flushed. “You are,
right?” John couldn’t find the words to answer him, so he nodded. The mattress
squeaked as Dave tipped toward him.
Their first kiss was somewhat clumsy. Their glasses clanked together loudly,
and John flinched backwards skittishly at the noise. Dave moved John’s
rectangular frames up to his forehead, titled his head to the side, and leaned
in. Their lips slid into position against each other like puzzle pieces.
Dave pulled back; taking in John’s flushed face with a sense of satisfaction.
“How was it?”
“It was…” John licked his lips and readjusted his glasses. “not terrible?” Dave
snorted.
“You’re such a dork, man. I’ll have you know that women and men alike would
despair at being denied a chance to make out with me. For a while I had a
problem with stalkers offing themselves after I turned down their tributes of
roofie-laced chocolates.”
John rolled his eyes, swiped Dave’s glasses, and boldly reinitiated the kiss.
Dave’s cool guy tangent was cut off with an embarrassing squawk. John took a
page from the numerous romantic kisses littering his collection of favorite
iconic movies and deepened the kiss, prodding Dave’s mouth questioningly with
his tongue. Dave hummed and let him in, although he wasn’t eager to play second
fiddle to John. The blonde boy slowly trailed one hand up John’s belly and
chest
“How about that?”  John asked, a smug grin on his face. Dave rolled his eyes,
placed on hand on his forehead and fanned his face with the other.
“Why, John, I do believe you are giving little ol’ me the vapors,” he drawled
in a lilting Southern accent, letting his eyelashes flutter to appropriately
complete the act.
John laughed. “Good, I was trying to do that!”
“Great. Awards all around. Can I have my shades back now?” Dave’s hand jutted
out all impudently.
“What shades?” John held up both hands, palms up. They were empty. Dave pushed
John first one way, then the other to see if he hid the sunglasses in plain
sight on the bed.
“Very funny, give them back.”
“Why? I think your eyes are pretty. You don’t have to hide them, if that’s why
you always wear sunglasses.”
Dave frowned a little. “Okay, one, please never use that word to describe any
facet of me again. I am cool, or awesome, or godly. Not pretty.” He paused for
a breath. “Two, I am not hiding behind my shades. Not in front of you, at
least. They are a symbol of our everlasting bond as the best bros to ever exist
and I just don’t like not having them.”
John blinked. He lowered his arms and the Stiller shades tumbled out of his
right sleeve. Dave collected them with a soft “thanks.” He opened them, closed
them again and placed them on a pillow. John smiled and stared right into
Dave’s eyes, completely unabashed. Dave tried to meet his gaze, but suddenly
felt… bashful? Reticent? Shy? None of these words really described it, but he
felt like he wanted John to stop looking and to never look away all at once. It
was an uncomfortable and new feeling.
“Is it okay if I touch you?” Dave asked, sliding one hand along John’s thigh
soothingly. John could only nod, not quite trusting his voice at the moment.
His breath hitched when Dave cupped his crotch and pressed lightly, confirming
that his decision to keep his mouth shut was the correct one. Dave scooted so
that John and he were facing one another directly, and his fingers toyed with
the elastic waistband. “You sure?” He noticed John was shivering a little.
John said quietly, “Please.”
Dave dipped his hand into John’s pants and encircled his erection. It was warm
in his hand, and he rubbed his thumb along the side of it experimentally. John
bit his lip and canted his hips up a little. It was an encouraging gesture, but
he still seemed a little wound up. Dave leaned forward and nibbled lightly at
John’s neck.
“I’m kind of surprised you said something first,” he whispered against John’s
skin, and began to stroke him firmly. John managed to look confused through his
haze of pleasure. “I’ve… liked you for a while, dude. And I always thought I
would make the first move, but you beat me again.” He kissed below John’s chin,
where he could feel the other boy’s pulse race.
John’s eyes were nearly closed, and his legs stretched out slowly one after the
other like a stretching cat. His adam’s apple bobbed and he let out a throaty
noise.
“D-Dave…”
Dave rubbed the flat of his thumb against the tip of John’s cock. “Yes?”
“I love you.”
Dave felt the return of the odd feelings. Now they weren’t quite uncomfortable.
Not anymore. It was a warm sensation, with perhaps a smidgen of butterflies in
his belly.
“I know I’ve got magic hands,” he tried to joke.
John cut him off, “I mean it. I love you.” His cloudy blue eyes met Dave’s.
Dave squirmed and squeezed John a little roughly. This just dragged a pleased
gasp from the other boy’s mouth, however. He felt like John could read him like
a book. He wanted to put his shades back on, but realized he had already said
and done too much to resort to hiding behind security blankets.
“I love you, too,” he said, and meant it.
John brought their lips together in another bold kiss and pushed against Dave’s
shoulders. Dave let John ease him onto his back, and tried not to look too
eager about John’s wandering hands. When John hesitantly ran his fingers along
Dave’s shaft in a butterfly-soft touch, Dave let out a huff of air in the other
boy’s ear.  John flinched and grinned at the same time, and fondled Dave with a
bit more courage.
He was a bit gentler where Dave would have been direct, and apparently enjoyed
light touches. All the same, Dave felt himself arching into the touch. John’s
body froze and he grasped Dave’s hand firmly.
John backed off for a moment to kick off his pajama bottoms then tugged down
Dave’s boxers. He straddled the blonde boy and bumped their cocks together,
unsurely rubbing their hips together. Dave thought that was nice enough. Then
John wrapped one hand around both their erections, applying more direct
pressure.
“Is this okay?” he whispered.
Dave was too busy breathing heavily to respond immediately. “That’s fan-
fucking-tastic,” he groaned. John steadied himself over Dave’s body with one
arm and resumed rubbing in earnest. He was rhythmic and steady at first. As his
orgasm neared again he became a bit more frantic, humping against Dave with
urgency. John’s body froze again and he let forth a worryingly kittenish cry as
he spilled cum on Dave’s shirt.
Not too lost pleasure to accommodate his friend, he tried to resume rubbing as
the euphoric waves receded. He sped up, smearing fluids everywhere. Dave felt
his toes curl and he slammed his hips up once, twice, and was gone as well.
They merely watched one another in the afterglow. Then the harsh realities of
the world set in.
“Oh. Ew. I’ll get something to clean this up. And, uh… another shirt. Don’t
move.” John slid slothfully off his best friend and he disappeared tucked
himself back into his pajamas, stains be damned, and disappeared down the hall.
Dave was content to relax and be left to his thoughts for the moment, and he
tried his best not to move to avoid displacing the mess of cooling spunk on his
midsection.
John returned and wiped the worst of the mess off Dave’s shirt, but wussed out
when it came to his penis. Dave accepted the washcloth, grateful to be rid of
what was rapidly developing into a sticky mess. They changed clothes again and
settled back into bed.
1:24 glowed on the digital clock’s face in green lucent numbers. Dave yawned,
then John yawned, then Dave yawned again.
“A vicious cycle, this yawning,” Dave commented absently. Typically he was used
to staying up all hours of the night, but traveling and humping your friend…
boyfriend?  took a lot out of a person. “If I go to bed now you’re not going to
spend the whole night looming over my prone form while breathing heavily, are
you?”
“Maybe.” John rolled out of bed and hit the light switch. The moonbeams
streaming in through his window guided him back to the bed. He tried to get
comfortable while Dave tossed the blanket haphazardly over both of them. A calm
quietness set over the room. For all of five minutes.
“Dave, you awake?” John asked softly. Dave mumbled an affirmation. He felt
John’s hand fumble around on the mattress for a moment before the other boy’s
fingers looped around his. “Thanks for coming. Here, I mean.”
Strider smiled widely and sincerely. The muscles in his face, so unused to
being moved out of a neutral position, protested at this new development. He
rolled over and threw his other arm over John, their hands clasped between
them, and snuggled.
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