homestuck. dave/john. supposedly retro au in which they went through high school without talking to each other.
it's two in the fucking morning i have no idea what i've just written.
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there is something incredibly sad about senior prom.
he is dressed up in a tux that isn’t his and the taste of punch is fresh on his mouth, and his date is somewhere else, probably smooching some other guy in the dirt restrooms and it feels like john has lost something that he’s going to miss forever, but for the life of him he can’t quite figure out what it is.
he’s surrounded by people who are full of dreams and anticipation and he wants to feel the same so badly, but for the life of him he can’t.
dave strider says, “hey.” when he sees john in the fields at midnight, the bleachers empty except for the boy in the red suit.
“hey,” he answers, a little taken aback. they’ve never talked much and he wonders for a moment if maybe he should leave. instead john asks, “what are you doing here?”
and dave looks at him for long moments, at the way he fidgets with the too-long sleeves of his blazer. john tries not to feel intimidated but dave’s shades are on top of his head and the weight of his gaze is strange, like maybe john should apologize. dave says, “thinking.” and after a moment asks, “you?”
john shrugs, little awkwardly. “fresh air.” and it feels like the conversation may die any moment. somehow that upsets him so john scrambles for more words to throw into the air. he asks, “what are you thinking about?”
dave seems to think for some moments.
“leaving.”
“oh,” says john, looking down at his shoes. he laughs a little, and it sounds shy. “where, home?”
“no, away.”
“oh,” john breaths.
and when he doesn’t adds anything else, dave continues. “it’s weird. i had all these high expectations about a perfect teen flick movie night, but i can’t even bring myself to like a girl enough to dance. i’m kind of bummed.”
john nods and he gets is it.
that’s why he asks, “do you want to?”
“want to what?”
“dance.”
dave snorts, looking ahead at the empty field. “buy me dinner first.”
john lets out a small laugh, but still walks up to dave and unceremoniously tugs at his hand until he is standing up with him in the football field, the grass crunching under dave’s converse and john’s shiny party shoes.
their hands are cold when john interlaces their fingers, and they don’t really fit. john supposes it doesn’t really matters. dave pushes an ipod earphone into his ear and they dance a whole slow song under the flickering field lights.
the air is chill but dave is warm, and john tries to remember all those times he watched dave crack a cheesy joke about the scalene triangle in math class; write answers on the chalkboard with his left hand, forming each crooked letter carefully, brows furrowed in concentration.
he wonders why he did not talk to dave back then.
dave hums bits and pieces of the mystery jet’s flakes into john’s ear through the whole song and it feels right.
“i think i might like this more than i probably should,” dave sighs, nose cold against john’s neck. there is no doubt as to what this is.
two boys just don’t hold each other like this, not here, not in this town.
john wants to say, you don’t belong in this shitty town.
he wants to say, our class is made up of jackasses and kids who don't know anything and pretend that they do and the teacher's don't care when we kick the shit out of each other and they don’t care what happens at home, and he wants to say, you're different.
he wants to say, you’re different, you know? soft and whispered and painfully earnest.
but he says nothing.
this small town is too much of a shitty place and people are too easy to break.
instead, he kisses dave’s cheek as gentle as a boy with rough hands and two left feet can, and will swear, years from now, that he can almost feel him shiver.
dave breaths, “wanna come with me?” words out of his mouth before he can stop and think about the implications. the need to just run is becoming overwhelming and this feels like the turn of a page, like the start of a new chapter. his throat is dry when he says, “we can stop at your place if you need clothes and shit.”
john wants to say yes more than anything.
he's eighteen, and he already feels like there's nothing worth being excited about, nothing worth anticipating. he lives surrounded by people who love him, and love each other, and he is desperate to feel the same way about all of them, but he can't.
he’s surrounded by people who are full of dreams and anticipation and he wants to feel the same so badly, but for the life of him he can’t.
john wants to say yes more than anything. imagines himself doing so.
he shakes his head, “no, thanks.” and after a moment, adds, “ but good luck.”
dave nods, “okay.” plays with the keys of his car inside his pocket. neither of them move. “another song?”
