Work Text:
Your name is Dave Strider and today is just not your day. Your alarm didn’t go off this morning, leaving you with 5 minutes to get dressed and get to work. You had an 8 hour shift at your shitty job at a shitty music store with no lunch break thanks to your coworker being an unreliable piece of shit who doesn’t turn up for half his shifts (the only reason you haven’t complained to your brother, the owner of the shop, is because you’re a bit scared of your coworker and his weird-ass juggalo shit). And now you’re stuck at a dingy little bus stop, starving your ass off, for a bus that should have arrived 10 minutes ago.
There’s only one other person at the bus stop with you. He looks like a complete nerd; thick rectangular glasses over ridiculously vibrant blue eyes, an overbite that would make any orthodontist cream himself, messy black hair that looks like it hasn’t been brushed in a year, and a Ghostbusters t-shirt. He’s pretty damn cute; not that you notice, because you’re too focused on what he has in his hands.
A Twix.
Normally, you wouldn’t give a flying fuck about some douche with a chocolate, but it’s 5PM and you haven’t eaten for nearly 24 hours and you are starving. You are, not for the first time, thankful for your shitty ironic shades, because it means you can stare at this guy and his god damn Twix without getting caught. However, you are definitely not thankful for your stomach, which chooses now to let out an extremely loud growl like an angry T-rex whose family just got eaten by some other dick of a dinosaur.
From the corner of your eye you see the guy smile a little. Fan-fucking-tastic. Up til now you’d done a pretty good job of keeping yourself unnoticed, as just that guy in the corner with the shades and the headphones. Now he’s probably going to realize that he’s alone with a weird guy wearing sunglasses after sundown and he’s probably going to leave and you aren’t gonna lie to yourself, you’ve kind of been enjoying watching him because he’s actually really fucking cute and-
“Hey,” You only realize he’s trying to talk to you when he starts waving a hand in front of your face. “Hellooooo, glasses guy?”
You stare blankly at him for a minute before your basic social skills catch up with you. “What?” Okay, maybe your grasp of basic social skills isn’t great, but at least you tried.
“I just asked if you wanted the second Twix. I mean, you seem pretty hungry,” he smirks. What a douche. “And I’ve already had one, and I don’t know, I thought it might be nice to give it to you so you don’t starve? I know it’s a bit weird, but-“
“Are you serious?” Maybe you come off a bit meaner than you intended, because the guy backs down a bit, smile falling slightly. Wow, great way to greet cute boys Dave, well done. “No, I mean-“
“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want, I just thought-"
“No, wait, I-“
“I just thought that it would be a nice thing to do but it’s okay if you don’t want it, it’s none of my business-“
You interrupt him by grabbing the chocolate out of his hand and shoving half of it into your mouth.
“I’m fucking starving,” You say. Or at least, you try to say. It comes out more like “Ib fumkin starbin”, which just earns you a confused look from the other boy. You swallow and try again. “I’m fucking starving, dude. I haven’t eaten since last night, because sometimes alarms just decide ‘hey, you know what, I’m not gonna go off today because people obviously don’t have jobs to go to’ and then douchebag workmates don’t show up because they’re too busy gettin’ high to bother working for one fucking hour, and you really don’t care about any of this, do you.”
Cute Nerd, as you’ve dubbed him, is rifling through his bag, probably finding something to use as an excuse to get away from you. You start to back away and return to your corner, but before you can move he lets out a triumphant “aha!” and holds out a Chinese food container to you. “You can have this, if you want.”
You take the container cautiously and open it, hoping to god he’s not trying to kill you. “Cake?”
“Yeah, my dad has a really bad baking addiction and likes to bring me cake at least once a week, and it was my birthday last week so there’s more than usual and I brought some because I met up with friends today but they didn’t eat all of it so I have that piece and you can have it, and… yeah. I hope you’re not, like, celiac or anything because I don’t exactly have anything for that. Well, um, I do actually, I have an epipen because me and peanuts don’t exactly agree, but still…”
You realize that he’s starting to feel a bit awkward, so you hold up a hand while you swallow your current mouthful. “Calm your tits dude, this cake is fuckin’ great. As long as you aren’t trying to poison me because that would be a dick move.”
Cute Nerd visibly relaxes, and you resist the urge to smirk. “It’s John by the way.” What? You must say that last bit out loud because he flushes, his cheeks burning pink. “My name, um, I’m John. John Egbert."
You hold out an icing-covered hand. “Nice to meet you, John Egbert. What sort of a surname is that anyway? Egbert. That’s literally the dorkiest fucking name I’ve ever heard.”
Cute Ner- John, you remind yourself, ignores your hands and folds his arms, pouting like a child. You scream internally because he’s really really adorable and he probably just thinks you’re a complete douchebag. “Yours probably isn’t any better, Mr I-Wear-Sunglasses-After-Sunset. I bet your name is Stupid McStupidface or something stupid like that.” He sounds so petulant and it’s so cute and you’ll probably die if you don’t get his number.
“Wow, what a witty comeback,” you snark, and John sticks his tongue out at you. You continue, in what is definitely the best Sean Connery impression of the century, “The name’s Strider. Dave Strider.”
John bursts out laughing and it’s so loud and infectious and completely adorable that you find yourself almost smiling with him. Almost. You won’t let yourself be caught out by some dork who finds your shitty jokes funnier than they really are. John slowly recovers, still letting out occasional giggles as he takes off his glasses and wipes his eyes. He glances up at you and cracks up again. You stand there awkwardly, waiting for him to calm down again so you can actually talk, maybe try to get his number. He takes a few deep breaths, letting out a soft “oh man” before sniffing slightly and gesturing for you to sit down on the bench next to him. You take the seat and John giggles a bit before speaking. “So, Mr Strider, what brings you to this lovely bus stop at,” he checks his watch, “5:32 on a Saturday evening?”
Is it really 5:30 already? Damn, time sure flies when you’re talking to hot boys while waiting for extremely unreliable buses. “I’m heading home from work, I had an 8 hour shift because the chick that usually works Saturday nights had something on. “Blah blah big larp contest, can’t miss it, blah blah who cares I’m a huge bitch” is pretty much all I got from her.” John laughs at your impression of Vriska, and you catch yourself smiling slightly. Fuck.
“Where do you work?” Normally you’d find these questions a bit creepy coming from a total stranger, but you’ve already eaten his food so you figure you’re on close enough terms that it doesn’t really matter; plus, John actually looks genuinely interested, and that’s more than you can say for half of your friends.
“Broken Record, the music shop just up the road from here,” you respond, indicating in the general direction of the shop. “My Bro owns it; family business, apparently.” You don’t know why you’re telling him so much; you don’t know if he’s a serial killer or some crazy-ass stalker who’s gonna follow you home and take creepy pictures and jack off to them in his creepy underground lair. You ignore that thought, choosing instead to ask, “Why are you at a bus stop at 5:30 on a Saturday offering your food up to cool strangers wearing shades?”
“Not strangers, just one.” He winks at you, and you freeze. Is he flirting? Probably not, Strider, pull yourself together, you think. Just because your thirsty ass wants to jump on the Egbert Express doesn’t mean he wants you to. “I was meeting up with some friends from college. We were meant to study but, ah, we kinda just watched movies instead.” The embarrassed laugh he lets out makes you think this isn’t the first time that’s happened.
“What college are you at?” Great, now you’re the one with the creepy questions. “I’m not asking so I can like, stalk and kidnap you because that ain’t cool, it’s just that it might be the same one I go to and that’d be fuckin’ cool cos we could meet up for coffee or something and yeah.” Well done Strider, that was smooth. Not. Bro would probably kill you if he knew you were making a fool of yourself in front of cute boys. Blah blah Strider legacy and all that. You make a mental note not to mention any of this to him. He’ll probably figure it out anyway, but you ignore that in favor of praying that John ignores your idiocy.
He does. Well, he doesn't call you out on it at least. “I go to SU.” Huh. Skaia University. Turns out it is the same one as you. “I’m majoring in film, and I’m the head of the Nic Cage Appreciation Club.” Is this guy for real? God, Vriska would love him, what with her weird Nicolas Cage obsession. You blanch at the thought of Vriska being anywhere near John. Your distaste must show slightly, because John gets slightly defensive. “Don’t you say anything bad about Nic, he’s one of the best actors of our time. As if Con Air isn't the best movie.”
You’re saved from having to respond by the convenient appearance of the bus. You both stand, John reaching down for his bag while you stretch. You try your hardest to not look at his butt while he’s bent over, but you fail that task horrifically. He stands back up and once again you thank god for your shades because you doubt he wants a semi-stranger staring at his ass. He gestures for you to go first, muttering a soft “m’lady”. He laughs as you hit him across the head. It’s weird how quickly you warmed up to this guy; normally it takes you weeks to get comfortable with people.
The bus is quiet when you get on, only a few people sitting around looking bored out of their minds. Wordlessly, you sit together, your arms brushing as you reach for your seatbelt. “Dude, it’s a bus, why are you putting your seatbelt on?”
“Buses are vehicles too, Jonathan,” he scowls when you call him that. Excellent, that’ll be good for teasing him in the future. Shit, why are you assuming there’s gonna be a future with you? Damn it Strider, pull yourself together. “Dying in a big metal box just because some people think they’re too good for seatbelts is not how I wanna leave this world. I’m too cool for that, I need like swords and explosions and shit, I ain’t dyin’ in some shitty bus accident.”
“Dave, stop pretending. You’re not cool, you’re a fucking dork.”
“That’s rich coming from you, Egdork.”
“Dorkzilla.”
“Lord Dorkington of Dorkshire.”
You spend the whole trip talking and joking around with John. Turns out he’s an even bigger nerd than you first assumed. He can recite every movie Nicolas Cage has been in in chronological order, his favorite non-Nic movie is Ghostbusters, and he shares an apartment with his cousin, Jade. He’s also in the LGBT+ Club at Skaia. You try not to read too much into that, because it doesn’t necessarily mean he’s into boys, and definitely doesn’t mean he’s interested in you.
In return, you tell him that you’re at Skaia as well, majoring in music. You tell him about your hobbies, how you’re in the photography club because your sister wanted you to join something rather than just hiding out in your room all the time. You tell him about the shitty ironic webcomic you run, feeling a spark of pride when he recognizes the name. His cousin is a big fan, apparently.
You notice that the bus is pulling up at the stop before yours and you frown, realizing you still haven’t gotten any contact details. You inform him that the next stop is yours and his face falls. You nearly smirk, but before you can get out a snarky comment about him missing you, his face lights up again and he reaches into his bag, pulling out a pen. He grabs your hand and starts scribbling on it. He finishes and grins at you, ridiculously bright and happy and adorable.
“My pesterchum handle and my number. I was just gonna give you my pesterchum then I realized that you might not use that so… yeah.” You can feel the bus slowing so you go to stand, but John grabs your wrist and leans over to whisper in your ear. “I know you think you’re subtle and I don’t want to burst your bubble but I saw you staring at my ass earlier.” You can hear the smirk in his voice and you freeze, freaking out a bit. Does this mean he doesn’t care? Is he okay with that? You only remember that you’re meant to be getting off the bus when John shoves you. You head to the open doors as the frustrated bus driver glares at you. You can’t bring yourself to care though, because when you reach the front you hear John yell out “Talk to me later, you nerd!”
You turn around to look at him and he winks at you, smug grin still in place. You nearly trip on your way off the bus and you can hear John laughing at you. You give him the finger from outside and you see him snicker before waving enthusiastically back. You watch the bus drive off, almost forgetting about the writing on your hand until you see a flash of blue as you lower it. You have trouble keeping your signature blank expression as you read what he’s written.
ectoBiologist
202-555-5646
it's okay, you have a pretty great ass too!
You cannot wait to get home.