Chapter Text
The amount of shit Dave got for failing to get John's contact information is endless. Just a veritable mountain of shit, mostly coming from his Bro... but even Jake turns against him, expressing his disappointment. He says he's upset on Dave's behalf, but Dave really doesn't give a fuck. He's too busy feeling sorry for himself already.
It's a rainy Sunday, two days after the dance, which means it's a lazy day for watching movies and doing jackshit, except maybe wallowing in his own misery. He's curled up on the couch, watching Bridget Jones's Diary, because a breakup movie just feels like the right vibe. Without a word, Jake joins him, bringing him a glass of apple juice as a peace offering. Dave accepts because he's easily bribed, and Jake settles in next to him without a word. Eventually, Bro joins them too, surprisingly quiet for once, which Dave would find suspicious, if he could even be assed. As it stands, as long as Bro stays on the other side of Jake and cuddles nicely, then he can stay.
The movie ended fifteen minutes ago, and Dave let Jake put on Indiana Jones without protest, because he's too comfy where he is, content with dozing right where he is. His unplanned nap is interrupted when there's a knock at the door.
Three heads snap up in unison. They don't get too many unexpected visitors, especially not midday on a Sunday, so any sense of calm is smashed into bits. Bro, ever the alpha of the house, nods to Dave and Jake to stay put before he stands up, making it to the door in a few long strides. When he opens it, he finds a shorter, squirrelier alpha, who immediately ducks his head in deference to the senior (and frankly, more physically intimidating) alpha of the household.
"Hello, uh... sir!" The alpha finally stammers out. He has those Buddy Holly glasses and he's dressed in a blue polo shirt and khakis. His shirt is tucked in, and it looks like he at least made an attempt at combing his mess of hair, even though his cowlick begs to differ. Both hands clutch a bouquet of flowers, a white-knuckled grip that threatens to strangle the damn things. Bro can't help a small, derisive huff. What a dweeb. "Um, is Dave here?"
Dave, who stopped paying attention when it wasn't his job to get the door, whips back around. He wasn't really listening at first, but then he heard his name and... he knows that voice.
"John?" Dave stands, closing the distance to the door. Bro remains silent and steps aside but still stands behind him, protectively. "Hey dude. What's up?"
John shuffles uneasily, glancing from Bro back to Dave, but there's a new light to his features now that Dave's come into the picture. "Hey! Um, not much. I just... wanted to come see you, like I said I would? These are for you, by the way."
John wasn't kidding when he said he wanted a proper courtship. Bro has backed off a bit, Jake has come to stand next to him to watch the show, and Dave just feels lost. He didn't expect John to ever want to talk to him again after he blew it so spectacularly. He takes the flowers with trepidation.
"Uh. Thanks. You want to come in or something?"
John doesn't even try to hide the way he looks to Bro for permission, who gives the barest of nods. The tension leaves John's shoulders and he lets himself be ushered inside. Jake takes the flowers from Dave and takes them to the sink, to cut the stems and put them in a vase. Once the door is closed, Dave has no idea what to do, so he shoves his hands in his pockets.
And then something occurs to him.
"How'd you find me, anyway?" Dave asks, brow furrowed. John didn't really seem the stalker type, and he didn't tell anyone else where he lives. Did someone follow him home? That seems highly unlikely.
"Oh! Yeah, sorry, I tried to call..." John reaches into his pocket and pulls out the token. "Did you know these things have little tags in them? It's cool! But the phone number was just some weird sex line with Kermit the Frog trying to seduce me? And the email was definitely fake, there's no way you're admin at foam... phallus... dot... oh."
A horrified look comes over John's face, his eyes going wide, as he realizes just what Dave meant when he said he wishes Bro had an OnlyFans. Dave just drags a palm down his forehead. Bro was the one in charge of entering his contact information, and no doubt he intentionally gave a fake number and email, just to trick someone into coming over to the apartment. That's the exact sort of meddlesome thing he'd do.
Jake places the flowers on the kitchen table, and Dave catches a glimpse of his brother's shit-eating grin, as Bro goes to join his mate.
"Should we give you a little alone time?" Bro asks mockingly, making a stupid kissy face as he loops an arm around Jake's shoulders. Dave has wanted to punch him, many, many times in his life, but never more than in that moment.
Jake tries to look a little more sympathetic. "Right, I'm sure you gents don't need the two of us cramping your wonderful little reunion."
Dave just shrugs, too enamored with the fact that John is here to divert his attention to Bro or Jake for too long. John's really here. In his apartment. Standing in front of him. Jake takes the initiative, then, and leads Bro away before he can cause any real trouble. Later, Dave will be thankful. Right now, he's just focused on the alpha in front of him and how much he wants to be closer.
"So..." John shuffles awkwardly, feeling even more bashful than he did asking someone out to his junior prom. Because this actually matters. "Why a raven, anyway?"
"It's a crow," Dave corrects. "I mean. That's what I wanted it to be."
John turns the token over in his palm; he doesn't know the difference, he just trusted Rose.
"So... why the crow?"
A slow smile creeps over Dave's face. "I'll show ya."
Dave snags a half-empty bag of cheese puffs off the counter and leads a baffled John out to the balcony. Water drips from the overhang and creates a gentle plink-plink on the metal railing. He pulls two cheese puffs out of the bag, hands one to John, and then whistles, loudly. Within a few seconds, two crows flutter in and land on the railing, shaking the rainwater off their feathers. Dave gives one the cheese puff and urges John to do the same. Hesitantly, John extends his hand, and the other crow nabs it from between his fingers.
The crow is looking at him. He does not know why the crow is looking at him.
"John," Dave says, sounding like a proud parent. "I'd like you to meet Tom Cawyer and Chuckleberry Finn. They're my crow-bros. They bring me cool shit like quarters and tinfoil, and I give them snacks."
John is having a staring contest with what he assumes is Chuckleberry Finn, before turning to Dave, with a wide-eyed stare.
"Dave... you didn't tell me you were a Disney princess."
"Oh, I didn't?" Dave feels smooth as fuck when he turns to John and leans in. He discards the cheese puff bag on the balcony table so he can focus all his attention. "Guess that makes you Prince Charming, then."
"Oh, heheh... I guess it does!" John doesn't back away, but he doesn't really know what to do with himself. He knows what he wants to do, though, which is—
"It's illegal for the prince not to give the princess a kiss, John." The crows are still watching, seemingly interested as Dave leans in a little more.
"Oh, okay." John tries not to sound as relieved and as giddy as he feels. He wants to be a gentleman, after all! But that's permission enough, so he puts a hand on Dave's waist and dips forward. Their noses don't bump awkwardly this time, and their lips slide together so perfectly that John's pretty sure they must have been made for each other.
A knock on the sliding glass door interrupts the moment, and John jumps back as if electrocuted. The crows fly off with their bounty in beak, and Dave just groans. Through the door, Bro has gotten away from Jake and is mean-mugging the two of them, with his mate in the background looking utterly exasperated. Dave wishes he could be surprised. He isn't.
Sliding the door open, he scowls at Bro.
"What do you want?"
"I want you to get back inside, you little harlot," Bro chides, standing aside as Dave plods back into the apartment, with John following along sheepishly.
"Harlot? Jesus fuck, you're one to talk," Dave mutters. "You're the one who wanted me to get a mate to begin with, so—"
"A good mate. Not some string bean dork."
Dave probably looks more offended than John, whose brow just knits together. When he doesn't say anything, Dave steps forward like he's going to fight Bro for the umpteenth time and lose, but he stops when John grabs his hand.
"You can call me names if you want, but it's not going to change anything," John says, trying not to sound as terrified as he feels. This guy could pound him into next week and John would be powerless to stop him. But something burns inside of him at the implication that he wouldn't make a good mate. "I don't know what's going to happen, but whatever comes next, I'm going to do everything I can to take care of Dave. As long as he's okay with it, then I'm not leaving him, no matter what you say. I may not be able to solve problems by punching them, but I think I do pretty okay!"
Glancing over, Dave sees John's shoulders squared and feet planted firmly. The grip on his hand is white-knuckled, though, betraying just how out of his element John is. It's impressive, actually. Most alphas give Bro a wide berth but here's John, nearly a foot shorter, with gangly arms and that geeky polo tucked into his pants, standing up to a guy who looks like he bench-presses cars in his spare time.
It's both incredibly hot and extremely terrifying at the same time. Dave tucks himself up against John's arm defensively, watching as Bro tips his shades down to make real eye contact. That can't be good. Meanwhile, Jake is trying to quietly diffuse the situation with generic platitudes, a talent he's cultivated over the years, but it doesn't seem to be working this time.
"Huh. The dweeb's got a bit of fight in him," Bro says dispassionately, before taking a step back into Jake's waiting arms. "Alright kid. Prove yourself. If you fall short, I can and will grind you up into a fine paste. Remember that."
The way John looks at Dave says it all: he's surprised that actually worked. He was just speaking from the heart. He doesn't know if he's in love or just infatuated, but he meant what he said. He wants this, and he wants to impress Dave, and for all his posturing, he wants them to take care of each other. Build a real relationship. Maybe he's just being stupidly optimistic and too romantic for his own good, but he won't know if he never tries.
Meanwhile, Dave is seeing it now for the ploy that it was. Bro was never worried, he just wanted to make John sweat. Typical. But Dave has a new appreciation for John, and if he had any reservations left in him, they're summarily dismissed. The part of him that would protest that he doesn't need to be "taken care of" melts away, because it doesn't even matter. He's smitten now, and that's all there is to it.
Squeezing John's hand, Dave gives one last scowl towards Bro, before he drags John off to his bedroom, slams the door shut, and proceeds to demonstrate his idea of courtship.