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It says something about John Egbert’s life, he thinks, that when he’s woken at midnight by the sound of someone opening his window and climbing inside, he doesn’t bat an eyelid. Instead, he just reaches out, scrabbling blindly in the dark beside himself for a second, and hits the switch on the lamp next to his bed so his nighttime visitor doesn’t trip as they make their way across his cluttered bedroom floor in the dark. The person grunts in thanks, seconds before flopping heavily face first onto the bed beside John. For a moment John’s afraid to break the silence between the two of them. Instead he uses the silence to listen carefully to the breathing coming from beside him, uncomfortably aware of the times when his usual visitor has arrived with his breathing far too fast or too slow, a clear sign of some sort of injury carefully hidden under clothing. Tonight, though, his breathing sounds as stable as it ever is, and John lets out a small sigh of relief.
“Couldn’t sleep again?” He guesses quietly after a moment. There’s no reply. “Dave?”
“Bro went out,” Dave grunts, “He was angry when he went out and I didn’t wanna be there when he got back.”
John hums in understanding. Though he’s sure that’s not all there is to this story, he doesn’t push him for more details; Dave will talk when he needs to. Instead, he slowly reaches a hand out beside him, and threads his fingers into Dave’s soft hair, running them through his locks a few times to tease out some tangles. Dave lets out a soft huff, and then rolls over onto his side so he’s facing John. His shades have slipped down his nose, and John sees the way Dave’s eyes slide closed contentedly as he strokes a hand through his hair again slowly. Dave’s forehead is beaded with sweat, and John pushes his hair back from his forehead gently, before lowering his hand to cup Dave’s jaw gently, smiling to himself when his friend leans his head sideways into his touch. He wonders to himself, as he has so many times before, whether it’s okay to be so close with Dave. He’s aware the other people at their school aren’t like this with their friends, aren’t quite so comfortable around each other, but in moments like this he always finds he just doesn't care. So he winds his hand further back into Dave’s hair and shuffles sideways a little closer to Dave. Under his touch, he feels Dave slump further into the pillows, and sees the way Dave’s shoulders relax very slightly as he lets out a small hum of contentment. The other boy smells like cigarette smoke, and sweat, but John doesn’t mind too much, happy enough to just lay there silently for now. It’s not often him and Dave just get some quiet, peaceful time alone without something going wrong.
“John,” Dave murmurs after a while, breaking the comfortable silence, “Is your dad awake?”
“No,” John replies.
“Can I... take a shower?” Dave asks a little nervously, “It’s been a long day.”
John smiles fondly to himself. “Yeah,” he says, “Yeah that’s fine. You know my dad wouldn’t mind even if he was awake anyway.”
“Mmh, I know,” Dave grumbles softly, and then slowly sits up. His back cracks a little as he does so, and John screws his face up, picking up a pillow to swing it sideways in disgust. Dave laughs quietly, batting John away, and then stands up off of the bed, shaking his arms out with a sigh.
“Did you bring anything with you?” John asks, “Got any spare clothes or anything?”
Dave shakes his head, and John nods in quiet understanding. As Dave shrugs off the jacket he’s wearing onto John’s bedroom floor, John heads over to his wardrobe to see what clothes he’s got to lend to Dave. Eventually, he gathers a small pile, and turns to walk back over to Dave.
“Thanks,” Dave says quietly as John passes him a towel, a pair of pajama pants and his biggest hoodie that Dave’s worn so many times before already.
“See you in a bit,” John says, and then climbs back under the covers of his bed, settling into the fading warmth the two have left behind. His laptop’s on the cabinet next to his bed, and he grabs it, dragging it over onto his lap and opening up Netflix. There are a few movies sitting in his list waiting to be watched, but he skips over them, looking for something lighter to watch, and eventually settles for whatever episode of Friends he’s currently on, clicking on it and finding himself halfway through season five. Through the wall, he can already hear the sound of water rumbling through the pipes, and rests his head further back against the wall with a small smile to himself, eyes fluttering shut gently as he waits for Dave to get back. The familiar Friends theme tune starts to play quietly, and John finds himself starting to drift off to sleep as he sits there in bed, lulled by the comforting smell of Dave’s apple shampoo in the pillow beside him.
He’s almost completely asleep by the time Dave gets back from the bathroom, but he’s stirred by the sound of the door clicking shut behind Dave, and watches as his friend shuffles into the room, hair damp and sticking up all over the place, shades balanced precariously on top of his head, and swamped in a massive blue hoodie. John’s not sure he should blush at the sight of him like that, but puts it down to tiredness, and runs a hand over his face as Dave starts to dig through the pockets of his jacket for something and then heads to the window. Dave lights up a cigarette quickly, and John sighs.
“Just come over here,” he calls quietly. Dave looks over at him slowly, and then strolls over to the bed and drops down on top of the covers beside John, blowing smoke upwards at the ceiling. For once John doesn’t care about his room filling up with smoke; he can cover the smell with deodorant before his dad wakes up tomorrow morning, and right now he just wants Dave back by his side again.
“What episode are we watching?” Dave mumbles after a few moments, smoke escaping from between his lips.
“The one where they’re all in Vegas,” John replies, and Dave nods once before leaning his head further back against the pillows. He takes his shades off his head and puts them aside, and John looks over in time to get a glimpse at the brightness of Dave’s red eyes glowing in the light from the laptop screen, smiling slightly at the sight. He still always feels a weird sort of pride that he’s one of the only people in the world who gets to see Dave’s eyes, knows how much of his trust in John that shows, and he’s always glad to see him relax this much.
After a moment, Dave shuffles over sideways closer to John, until their shoulders brush together, and even through the layers of both of their clothing, the touch ignites some sort of spark under John’s skin, and he gulps slightly at the warmth of it. Even so, he leans in to Dave’s touch, and finds himself barely flinching when Dave shifts a leg to push it against his, and John moves a hand to rest on top of the one of Dave’s that isn’t still holding the cigarette. He feels the way Dave’s fingers move almost instinctively to tangle with his, and smiles to himself.
“I hate how much I love this,” Dave murmurs softly after a long time, tipping his head further backwards and exhaling more smoke up towards John’s ceiling.
“What d’you mean?” John mumbles tiredly.
There’s a long moment of silence as Dave takes another drag from his cigarette, and then stubs it out in the ashtray he’s set up on John’s bedside cabinet. “I mean… I could just take this moment, man, and live in it forever, you know. Like I don’t need anything but this. Just need you.”
John rolls further over, shifts his body so he’s facing Dave better. “Really?” He asks quietly, not quite able to make his voice any louder, scared to break the fragility of the moment between them. He’s a little surprised, he thinks, to hear Dave so outwardly express his emotions, but figures it’s a mix of exhaustion and stress messing with his friend.
“Yeah, dude,” Dave says just as quietly, and then he too rolls over and props himself up on one elbow facing John.
“Me too,” John whispers, and feels his heart grow about three times its usual size when Dave grins, actually grins, at him. It’s a tired, crooked grin, but a grin all the same, and John can’t help smiling back at him just as widely. “We will, one day,” he adds, and Dave tips his head sideways a little, confused. “I mean, like, we can move out,” John says, fidgeting a hand slightly against the covers, picking at a loose thread with one fingernail, “Get a crappy little apartment together. Live off of ramen and kool-aid and shitty minimum wage jobs until we find something better.”
“You’d...uh, you’d really do that?” Dave asks.
“Course,” John shrugs, “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you’re...you. And I’m just me,” Dave says.
“Well, yeah,” John says, “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I mean you’re like this super clever, intelligent, dude,” Dave mutters, “You’re gonna be like a fucking famous piano composer, and I’m just like...nothing. Why would you wanna give up everything you’ve got to live with a nothing person?”
“You are not nothing!” John protests, “You're a super good photographer, and a musician, and a writer. Dave, I’m pretty sure you’re gonna be the successful one here.”
“Maybe we’ll be famous together,” Dave murmurs with a small reluctant sigh, and John cracks a small smile.
“Yeah we will!” He says, “One day we’re gonna get out of this town and it’s gonna be great.”
“Yeah,” Dave says quietly, “Maybe.”
John doesn’t like the hopelessness in his tone, and so he takes Dave’s hand back in his. “We will,” he assures him, “We’re gonna make a life for ourselves, and your bro’s gonna regret ever thinking you were useless.”
He sees Dave tense very slightly at that, knows hearing his own bro’s words used again hurts him, and so John squeezes his hand gently until Dave’s shoulders slump and relax again. Still though, Dave’s eyes are flicking from side to side, scanning across John’s face, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he seems to be deeply thinking. The sight does something funny to John’s heart, and he gulps slightly, not sure whether or not to tear his gaze away.
“Hey, Dave,” he says after a moment, if only to break the silence so his thoughts will stop racing, “What’s up?”
“John, dude, I think I’m in love with you,” Dave murmurs tiredly, as if the word’s just slip out without him meaning to say them, and then he freezes. “Oh shit,” he panics, “Please tell me to shut up.”
John stares, stunned for a second by what he’s just heard. “Shut up, Dave,” he says, voice shaky and a little giggly, before leaning in closer, reaching one hand out until it finds Dave’s shoulder, and he squeezes gently. There’s a moment of tentative, fragile silence, and then Dave suddenly all but surges forwards across the mattress and grabs John’s face in his hands. John waits, expecting something, but instead he just feels Dave’s shaky breathing against his face and his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm against his jaw, and he continues to wait.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Dave admits after a second, and John can’t quite tell from his voice whether he’s about to laugh or cry. He’s got to take charge of this, he realises, and so he gently raises his hand from Dave’s shoulder to cup his face, gently stroking along his jaw.
“Dave,” he says quietly, “can you just kiss me now, please?”
“Y-yeah,” Dave says with a nod, “I - I can do that.”
Dave keeps both hands on John’s face, fumbling slightly as he guides John further in towards him and then, painstakingly slowly, leans in. John waits with bated breath until the feeling of Dave’s nose brushing against his gets too much, and he leans in to close the gap for him. His lips graze against Dave’s gently, barely for a few seconds, but it’s enough for John to realise just how warm Dave is. He knows this, of course, has laid by Dave’s side for enough of these nights to know that Dave runs hot, like a furnace, pretty much all the time, but he’s still not expecting the warmth when their mouths meet. Dave’s lips are chapped, always are, from years of anxiously biting at them, and yet against John’s they’re soft and gentle, and the feeling of them is enough to stir up a species of butterfly that John’s never felt before in the very pit of his stomach.
Dave pulls back after only a brief second, but John can hear the way his breathing hitches slightly as he leans his forehead in until it bumps against John’s. For a while there’s only silence as the both of them realise what they’ve just done. John’s terrified they’ve broken something here, put a crack into their fragile yet perfect relationship, and he can feel Dave slipping away into his own thoughts too. Only when he feels Dave’s hand start to shake a little where it’s now resting against his shoulder does he feel a need to comfort him again, and leans in again to clumsily seek out Dave’s lips.
Dave gasps out a tiny gasp of surprise as their lips meet, and for a second John’s worried he’s made a mistake. But then one of Dave’s hands tugs at his hair a little too sharply, and John presses in further, more confident this time, or at least feigning some sense of confidence in his movement. Dave opens his mouth a little to catch John’s lips further between his, and John tastes smoke and wonders if maybe this is too much too fast, but then one of Dave’s hands finds his hip, dipping under his shirt very slightly, and John loses the ability to think properly. All he knows is that Dave’s hands are warm, and his lips are warm, and everything is so so warm that John thinks maybe he’s been cold his entire life leading up to this moment.
Dave breaks the kiss after a moment, hand lingering on John’s skin. “For so long,” he murmurs, “So long I’ve wanted to do that.”
“I think I have too,” John murmurs, “I was just too stupid to realise it.”
Dave laughs softly, a light, airy sound that John’s not sure he’s heard from Dave in a very long time, and it’s enough to draw the two of them back together. This time it’s gentler, Dave pressing a few small pecks into the corner of John’s mouth with careful insistence before he ducks his head down to press his face into John’s neck and gently kissing along his throat. John giggles softly, resting a hand on Dave’s head and then tilting his chin upwards gently when Dave stops kissing and just leans his head in tiredly to rest against John’s collarbone. Dave looks up then, until they’re at eye level again, and smiles up at him.
“I was right,” Dave murmurs after a moment, leaning his forehead in so it bumps against John’s.
“What?” John murmurs, too dazed to fully understand what Dave’s saying.
“I was right,” Dave says quietly, searching for John’s hand with one of his and lacing their fingers together gently, “I’m so fucking in love with you. Full homo. If...I mean… if that’s alright with you.”
John lets out a small huff of laughter without meaning too. “You’re such a dork, Dave,” he whispers, noting with interest the way Dave shudders when his breath ghosts across his face. “But yeah, I’m pretty sure I love you too, idiot.”
Dave laughs softly, and then leans his head in to rest his forehead back against John’s collarbone, face pressed into the bare skin where his shirt has slipped down slightly. John’s pretty sure he can feel the curve of Dave’s smile against his skin, and he gently reaches up to tangle a hand in Dave’s hair, going back to stroking it gently as his friend cuddles further into his side.
“Been so scared about...all of this,” Dave mumbles, hands drifting across John’s skin absentmindedly as he talks, “Thought you were gonna hate me but -”
“I don’t hate you, Dave,” John murmurs softly, “I don’t think I could hate you if I tried.”
“Hmm, good,” Dave hums quietly, before pressing his lips gently against John’s skin, earning himself a hair ruffle from John.
John feels his eyes start to flutter tiredly as he lays there, the feeling of Dave’s hands slowly travelling over his skin calming him down. Vaguely, he hears the sound of the Friends theme tune start to play again in the background, but can’t quite find the energy to move and switch it off. He just rests a hand gently on top of Dave’s head, threading his fingers back through his hair, and smiles to himself as they both start to drift off. Tomorrow they’ll have to leave this room, and face the outside world and everything it holds for them, but for now there’s just the warmth of their embrace, the soft sound of breathing, and the slowly brightening room as the early summer sun starts to creep its way into their perfect moment.