The Ace Thing, Chapter Two (Homestuck fic)
Jun. 8th, 2014 03:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nobrandheroRead on Dreamwidth under the cut, or over on AO3.
----
You are the shallowest motherfucker. It is you. John is still expressive, childish, and the king of bad taste, but it just comes off as endearing now that he's legal.
When you wake the next morning to find your living room furniture has been rearranged to mirror their old positions, you're a little more impressed than you'd ever admit -- in part because you only got three hours of sleep, so his window of opportunity was pretty slim, but mostly because you sleep in the goddamn living room and he somehow moved the futon without waking you. All the same, you pretend you don't notice and refuse to give him the satisfaction of moving anything back.
Whereas you'd avoided Dave and his chum the last time they camped out in your apartment, this time you keep a near-constant eye on them whenever they're in a public space, studying John and evaluating just how willing you are to date someone a few months younger than Dave. You'd always thought your tastes leaned a little older, but there are exceptions to every rule.
Field results come back an unquestionable positive. You'd tap that.
By the third day of John's stay, your strategy changes from "observe from afar, flashstepping before anyone notices" to "grab John's attention." This mostly involves continuing to flashstep by them so fast that they don't even know you're in the same room, but with the addition of making your presence known the only way you know how.
You leave puppets around them, startling the hell out of John more than once while Dave's mouth just twitches into a frown. You swap out John's glass of water for a glass of grapefruit juice just as he reaches for it. You make it as clear as you can that if he wants to play pranks, you can best him.
After you pull a chair five feet back just as John's about to take a seat, Dave excuses himself and strolls to the kitchen.
"Bro!" he calls.
You flashstep in and lean back against the wall with your arms crossed. "What?"
He turns on you with a scowl, his poker face not holding up well under pressure. His shoulders are tense too. "Dude, thought we were cool on Egbert staying here."
"From where I'm standing, the only one who needs to chill here is you, li'l bro." You keep your tone completely even, your face unmoving aside from your lips as you speak, to serve as example, but Dave doesn't catch the hint.
"It's a little hard to keep chill when you keep harassing my friend for no goddamn reason like a freaking stalker ninja. Save it for when we got the place to ourselves again."
You shrug. "Don't know what's got your panties in a twist. I'm just giving him the usual Strider welcome."
Dave's brow furrows. "Strider welcome? I haven't seen you pull this kind of stupid bullshit since that Harley guy-" He freezes, his mouth hanging open mid-word. "Oh my god. You're crushing on John."
You give him your best "You got a problem with that?" look. You're fully prepared to shoot down any hysterics about to explode from your little bro.
For once in your life, Dave manages to surprise you. He bursts out laughing.
"Dave, do I need to drive you to a goddamn mental ward?" you say, trying not to tense or show any other signs that he's thrown you for a loop.
"Fuck." He calms his laughter with some effort. "You have fun with that, dude. Film your confession for me. I can't miss that shit."
You cock your head. "You trying to not-so-subtly hint that he's straight?" It wouldn't be the first time. "Is he even into men?" is kind of an occupational hazard of being gay as shit, second to "is this guy gonna turn out to be a giant bigot?"
"Nah, he's not straight," Dave says, still snickering. "Oh, Jesus. You'll see." He leaves you, still shaking his head, without further explanation. There's no way you're going to give him an advantage over you by pushing for more info, so you just let him go.
"What's so funny?" you hear John say in the other room.
"Oh, dude, it's the best shit. I'm never telling."
"C'mon, do it, you fucking tease."
"No way, man, I'm not ruining it when there's a chance you'll find out on your own. My lips are so sealed you'd need to hop over to Lowe's for a crowbar so you can pry open the shed where you keep the chainsaw and tear this tight secret out of me."
You roll your eyes at the exchange and make a point to swap out Dave's apple juice for lemon juice later. At least he's not mad you're wooing his friend, but you can't help feeling a little on edge. Your little bro is never so confident about any humiliations coming your way. You leave them be for the afternoon, just spying on occasion. As far as you can tell, John hasn't even put it together that you were the one causing the mayhem around them earlier.
You share a room alone with John for the first time later that evening, when you're both stopping in the kitchen for drinks.
"Hey, Mr. Strider," John says as he passes you.
You fight down a shudder that anyone just called you "Mr. Strider," let alone him. Jesus Christ, no. "Dave treating you okay so far?"
"No, but I'm returning the favor, so it's all good." He opens the fridge, sidestepping to avoid the swords that come tumbling out. Kid's a fast learner. "We're watching a movie soon if you want in on it."
"If you need adult supervision, Egbert, you can just ask."
John snorts and pulls out a can of Coke. "Yeah, man, TV won't let us start the Blu-ray without someone over twenty present. If you don't come to our rescue, we're stuck watching Disney Channel again."
You shake your head. "Fuckin' tragic. I'll be there in five."
He holds both hands and his new soda over his heart as he backs towards the door. "You're a motherfucking lifesaver, Mr. Strider."
"And don't forget it." Why does he have to keep calling you that? Does it get any less cool than "mister"? Seeing as you're the master of cool, you're plenty qualified to vote no, there is no honorific lamer than "mister."
You don't wait the full five minutes, flashstepping out just as they're fumbling for remotes. You toss a red smuppet under John as he tries to take his seat. He catches sight of the brightly colored nose just as he starts to put his weight on it.
"Jesus fuck!" He bolts to the side, slamming into Dave's shoulder as he leans away from the plush.
Dave stays still as a statue as his friend practically climbs into his lap for safety -- his chillness has improved over the years; he would have been panicking with John five years ago. "Dude, what."
John's face scrunches up in disgust. "I almost sat on one of those grossass puppets again."
You're pretty sure Dave's rolling his eyes behind his shades. "Welcome to my life, Egbert."
"They are not fucking gross," you say, settling next to the smuppet and John's intended seat.
"Who do you think you're fooling?" John kicks at the smuppet, careful to keep his shoes the only thing to touch it, until it falls to the floor. "Dave told me what you use these things for, you sicko."
You make sure to raise your eyebrow high enough that they can see it over your shades. "Haven't seen it for yourself yet?"
John pulls a face and slumps into his seat, releasing Dave from his grip. "Fuuuuuck no."
You smirk. "Well that's a fuckin' tragedy that needs to be rectified."
"No. Hell no. Hell fucking no."
"What?" You make as if to get up and swap the Blu-rays out, pausing before you're actually out of your seat. "Best porn you'll ever see."
He makes a gagging noise. "I will vomit on you and not even feel bad."
"Bro, knock it off," Dave says, frowning.
"You'd rather I put on something boring like Debbie Does Dallas?"
John shuddered. "I will still vomit on you."
This kid is forever throwing challenges at you, it seems. You get to your feet with full intention to scope out the porn shelf. "Hey, c'mon, gimme a kink. I bet I've got something up your alley."
He glowers. "How about the kink of sexual intercourse is gross and I don't want to watch it?"
You pause. "Gross?"
"Totally disgusting, dude. No offense to your profession and stuff, but I would rather watch paint dry all day than sit through five seconds of pornography."
Something clicks into place. He's not straight, but he's incompatible enough that Dave laughed in your face. "Are you five kinds of repressed... or just a sex-repulsed asexual?"
Dave's tiny smirk is all the affirmation you need.
John blinks. "You've heard of asexuality?"
"No, I've known I was gay since fifteen and never bothered to learn what the rest of the GLBT acronym stands for." You roll your eyes. "Of course I've fucking heard of it."
"Okay, yes, I am that thing." John relaxes. "At least I think so. I haven't compared with another asexual, but sex is really gross and I don't want it, so I probably match the description."
"John," Dave says, "we've been over this shit. You are more ace than a fucking amoeba. I could play you in poker. People mistake you for a hardware store."
John lightly shoves him.
You put on your best poker face as you return to the couch and make a point not to tease John with any more porn or smuppets for the rest of the movie.
No goddamn wonder Dave was so amused at your expense. There's still a chance John might be romantically interested in men, so in a way you're technically compatible, but you're not so sure you could make do in a celibate relationship.
No, you're pretty damn sure you're not willing to go celibate for anyone -- especially not your little bro's dork of a friend. Too bad you've no doubt that 1) you're going to be seeing a lot more of John Egbert now that he's local, and 2) you're not going to stop noticing he's hot.
You really didn't need a reminder of how damn long it's been since you last had a boyfriend.
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----
You are the shallowest motherfucker. It is you. John is still expressive, childish, and the king of bad taste, but it just comes off as endearing now that he's legal.
When you wake the next morning to find your living room furniture has been rearranged to mirror their old positions, you're a little more impressed than you'd ever admit -- in part because you only got three hours of sleep, so his window of opportunity was pretty slim, but mostly because you sleep in the goddamn living room and he somehow moved the futon without waking you. All the same, you pretend you don't notice and refuse to give him the satisfaction of moving anything back.
Whereas you'd avoided Dave and his chum the last time they camped out in your apartment, this time you keep a near-constant eye on them whenever they're in a public space, studying John and evaluating just how willing you are to date someone a few months younger than Dave. You'd always thought your tastes leaned a little older, but there are exceptions to every rule.
Field results come back an unquestionable positive. You'd tap that.
By the third day of John's stay, your strategy changes from "observe from afar, flashstepping before anyone notices" to "grab John's attention." This mostly involves continuing to flashstep by them so fast that they don't even know you're in the same room, but with the addition of making your presence known the only way you know how.
You leave puppets around them, startling the hell out of John more than once while Dave's mouth just twitches into a frown. You swap out John's glass of water for a glass of grapefruit juice just as he reaches for it. You make it as clear as you can that if he wants to play pranks, you can best him.
After you pull a chair five feet back just as John's about to take a seat, Dave excuses himself and strolls to the kitchen.
"Bro!" he calls.
You flashstep in and lean back against the wall with your arms crossed. "What?"
He turns on you with a scowl, his poker face not holding up well under pressure. His shoulders are tense too. "Dude, thought we were cool on Egbert staying here."
"From where I'm standing, the only one who needs to chill here is you, li'l bro." You keep your tone completely even, your face unmoving aside from your lips as you speak, to serve as example, but Dave doesn't catch the hint.
"It's a little hard to keep chill when you keep harassing my friend for no goddamn reason like a freaking stalker ninja. Save it for when we got the place to ourselves again."
You shrug. "Don't know what's got your panties in a twist. I'm just giving him the usual Strider welcome."
Dave's brow furrows. "Strider welcome? I haven't seen you pull this kind of stupid bullshit since that Harley guy-" He freezes, his mouth hanging open mid-word. "Oh my god. You're crushing on John."
You give him your best "You got a problem with that?" look. You're fully prepared to shoot down any hysterics about to explode from your little bro.
For once in your life, Dave manages to surprise you. He bursts out laughing.
"Dave, do I need to drive you to a goddamn mental ward?" you say, trying not to tense or show any other signs that he's thrown you for a loop.
"Fuck." He calms his laughter with some effort. "You have fun with that, dude. Film your confession for me. I can't miss that shit."
You cock your head. "You trying to not-so-subtly hint that he's straight?" It wouldn't be the first time. "Is he even into men?" is kind of an occupational hazard of being gay as shit, second to "is this guy gonna turn out to be a giant bigot?"
"Nah, he's not straight," Dave says, still snickering. "Oh, Jesus. You'll see." He leaves you, still shaking his head, without further explanation. There's no way you're going to give him an advantage over you by pushing for more info, so you just let him go.
"What's so funny?" you hear John say in the other room.
"Oh, dude, it's the best shit. I'm never telling."
"C'mon, do it, you fucking tease."
"No way, man, I'm not ruining it when there's a chance you'll find out on your own. My lips are so sealed you'd need to hop over to Lowe's for a crowbar so you can pry open the shed where you keep the chainsaw and tear this tight secret out of me."
You roll your eyes at the exchange and make a point to swap out Dave's apple juice for lemon juice later. At least he's not mad you're wooing his friend, but you can't help feeling a little on edge. Your little bro is never so confident about any humiliations coming your way. You leave them be for the afternoon, just spying on occasion. As far as you can tell, John hasn't even put it together that you were the one causing the mayhem around them earlier.
You share a room alone with John for the first time later that evening, when you're both stopping in the kitchen for drinks.
"Hey, Mr. Strider," John says as he passes you.
You fight down a shudder that anyone just called you "Mr. Strider," let alone him. Jesus Christ, no. "Dave treating you okay so far?"
"No, but I'm returning the favor, so it's all good." He opens the fridge, sidestepping to avoid the swords that come tumbling out. Kid's a fast learner. "We're watching a movie soon if you want in on it."
"If you need adult supervision, Egbert, you can just ask."
John snorts and pulls out a can of Coke. "Yeah, man, TV won't let us start the Blu-ray without someone over twenty present. If you don't come to our rescue, we're stuck watching Disney Channel again."
You shake your head. "Fuckin' tragic. I'll be there in five."
He holds both hands and his new soda over his heart as he backs towards the door. "You're a motherfucking lifesaver, Mr. Strider."
"And don't forget it." Why does he have to keep calling you that? Does it get any less cool than "mister"? Seeing as you're the master of cool, you're plenty qualified to vote no, there is no honorific lamer than "mister."
You don't wait the full five minutes, flashstepping out just as they're fumbling for remotes. You toss a red smuppet under John as he tries to take his seat. He catches sight of the brightly colored nose just as he starts to put his weight on it.
"Jesus fuck!" He bolts to the side, slamming into Dave's shoulder as he leans away from the plush.
Dave stays still as a statue as his friend practically climbs into his lap for safety -- his chillness has improved over the years; he would have been panicking with John five years ago. "Dude, what."
John's face scrunches up in disgust. "I almost sat on one of those grossass puppets again."
You're pretty sure Dave's rolling his eyes behind his shades. "Welcome to my life, Egbert."
"They are not fucking gross," you say, settling next to the smuppet and John's intended seat.
"Who do you think you're fooling?" John kicks at the smuppet, careful to keep his shoes the only thing to touch it, until it falls to the floor. "Dave told me what you use these things for, you sicko."
You make sure to raise your eyebrow high enough that they can see it over your shades. "Haven't seen it for yourself yet?"
John pulls a face and slumps into his seat, releasing Dave from his grip. "Fuuuuuck no."
You smirk. "Well that's a fuckin' tragedy that needs to be rectified."
"No. Hell no. Hell fucking no."
"What?" You make as if to get up and swap the Blu-rays out, pausing before you're actually out of your seat. "Best porn you'll ever see."
He makes a gagging noise. "I will vomit on you and not even feel bad."
"Bro, knock it off," Dave says, frowning.
"You'd rather I put on something boring like Debbie Does Dallas?"
John shuddered. "I will still vomit on you."
This kid is forever throwing challenges at you, it seems. You get to your feet with full intention to scope out the porn shelf. "Hey, c'mon, gimme a kink. I bet I've got something up your alley."
He glowers. "How about the kink of sexual intercourse is gross and I don't want to watch it?"
You pause. "Gross?"
"Totally disgusting, dude. No offense to your profession and stuff, but I would rather watch paint dry all day than sit through five seconds of pornography."
Something clicks into place. He's not straight, but he's incompatible enough that Dave laughed in your face. "Are you five kinds of repressed... or just a sex-repulsed asexual?"
Dave's tiny smirk is all the affirmation you need.
John blinks. "You've heard of asexuality?"
"No, I've known I was gay since fifteen and never bothered to learn what the rest of the GLBT acronym stands for." You roll your eyes. "Of course I've fucking heard of it."
"Okay, yes, I am that thing." John relaxes. "At least I think so. I haven't compared with another asexual, but sex is really gross and I don't want it, so I probably match the description."
"John," Dave says, "we've been over this shit. You are more ace than a fucking amoeba. I could play you in poker. People mistake you for a hardware store."
John lightly shoves him.
You put on your best poker face as you return to the couch and make a point not to tease John with any more porn or smuppets for the rest of the movie.
No goddamn wonder Dave was so amused at your expense. There's still a chance John might be romantically interested in men, so in a way you're technically compatible, but you're not so sure you could make do in a celibate relationship.
No, you're pretty damn sure you're not willing to go celibate for anyone -- especially not your little bro's dork of a friend. Too bad you've no doubt that 1) you're going to be seeing a lot more of John Egbert now that he's local, and 2) you're not going to stop noticing he's hot.
You really didn't need a reminder of how damn long it's been since you last had a boyfriend.
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