Chapter Text
“You’ve got this, Bro! It’s all you.”
“Don’t let his calm demeanor fool you, son. You have him on the ropes now. I believe in you.”
It doesn’t snow in Houston, Texas like it does in Maple Valley, Washington. At least it hadn’t for a long while. While Bro was used to seeing a thin, slushy veneer of the white stuff back in his native home, it was thick and fluffy and just fucking everywhere up in the north. Perfect and plentiful ammo for a snowball fight. Outside of ammunition, he wasn’t sure how he felt about the cold, white stuff. He was constantly torn between being in awe of the winter wonderland, and just absolutely hating it. He was pretty sure his nipples were frozen solid even under the layers of clothing he was forced to hide under.
It didn’t help that they’d been outside for what felt like hours now. Though looking at one John Egbert, you wouldn’t think it. He wasn’t shivering, wasn’t hunched up, trying to become as small as possible against the chill wind the way Dave was several feet behind him. That sort of home team advantage should have disqualified the Egberts from the game right from the start, but it hadn’t been the Washington natives who had first issued this challenge. The advantage of being accustomed to the cold hadn’t saved John’s father from being pummeled to faux death in this battle, either.
That had been Bro’s doing, and the Strider patriarch wasn’t above being smug about it. Egbert senior was a surprisingly wily old man (and by old he means probably about 8 years older than Bro himself), and it was apparent that Mr. Egbert had taught his son his ways just like you did your best to teach Dave your own.
John had taken Dave out embarrassingly easy. Bro blamed the little man’s lack of experience in the snow, but really, it hadn’t been that big of a disadvantage for Bro himself. It just left him and Egbert Junior to finish this battle once and for all. Thank fuck, because he was so ready to get inside from the cold and enjoy one of Mr. E’s homemade hot chocolates. The kid was surprisingly nimble, though. He didn’t look that coordinated at first glance with those thick glasses and the way he tended to shuffle while he walked.
It had been a ruse. Bro was 97% sure of it. John’s impish grin was all the tell he needed. The kid was grinning ear to reddened ear, flushed high on his cheeks, and his breath coming out of his mouth in a thick, white mist. Even the tip of his nose was red, and fuck if that just wasn’t the cutest thing. And just how did he manage to still look cute at his age? Dave had moved from the preteen awkward to preadult awkward, but his friend still managed to hold onto the descriptor of cute even while he went through the same. Some people were just genetically gifted from birth. Not like Striders who only fully blossomed once adulthood had been settled into.
“You’re looking pretty cold there, Mr. Strider.” John taunted. He clutched a snowball in his hand, the spherical clump of soft ice melting a little. “Looking pretty tired, too. Sure you don’t want to save the last scraps of your dignity and just give up now?” This little shit.
“You sure you’re not just trying to project your own feelings onto me, kid? Looking a little out of breath there yourself. How about you stop trying to stall and distract and we get this over with so we can get out of this frozen hell?” Bro smirked a little, enjoying the way John laughed more than he’d willingly admit to.
“Aww, you think this is hell? You poor, Southerner and your delicate sensibilities. Don’t worry, Bro. I’ll put you out of your misery soon. Then we can tuck you in nice and warm by the fire and you can thaw your toes off.” John mock cooed.
“Is that the special treatment the winner gets? Will you be my personal warming attendant as my prize?” Bro bantered right back.
“How about the two of you suck each other’s dicks off after we finish this and get the fuck inside?”
“David! Language.”
Dave visibly winced. “Sorry, Mr. E. I’m just freezing my nuts off.”
“Be that as it may, that is hardly appropriate language.”
“Sorry Dave, I’ll be quick about it.” John apologized to his best friend, and in doing so, took his eyes off his opponent.
Big mistake.
Ignoring the sudden scrutinizing stare from John’s father, Bro takes the opportunity to move. John might have had experience of countless snowy winters, but Bro always had his superior speed. In a flash, he rolled forward, scooped, packed, threw. John only barely managed to dodge in time. The final battle was underway at last.
The thing with fighting Egberts that their moves were unpredictable. Years of pranking wars, of dodging pies to the face, and moving quick enough to outrun a bucket of water over the head made them nimble, made them think outside the box to one up each other. Bro couldn’t get a read on John’s moves because as soon as he thought he had an idea of where John would move next, the boy would surprise him and move in a completely different direction, and even while anticipating a feint, John still managed to surprise him again and again.
John was definitely a worthy opponent and Bro found himself hoping desperately to get him in a real strife some day.
It was hard to say how much time had passed. It could have been hours, it could have been half of one, it could have been fifteen minutes. Time held no real significance in battle, even snowball battles. All Bro knew was that he was running out of breath, and each new one he took in was bracing; razor sharp in in his lungs like he was inhaling little ice crystals It wasn’t a fun feeling. He’d lost John in the trees at the edge of the Egberts’ backyard. They had a literal forest in their backyard. How fucking crazy was that?
But it gave him the short reprieve he needed catch his breath and gather his wits dulled by the cold. It was probably just chance that he saw John before the younger man saw him. It was just the sort of opportunity he needed to end this. John looked so out of it, too. More than Bro was sure the younger Egbert was willing to let on if he had known he was being watched. His dark hair was disheveled, clung to his cheeks in a mixture of melted snow and sweat. He was shivering, just barely, but it enough to be telling, and those misty puffs of breath were coming out short and fast. Those too blue eyes were watery, bright, pupils a bit too dilated.
That cold flush on John's cheeks had darkened further, and while that might have been cause for concern, it was mostly just aesthetically pleasing. Or maybe that was just Bro. The dark and devious part of his mind couldn’t help but make comparisons to the other ways he could make John look exactly the same as he did now, if perhaps far less overdressed. He gently reminded himself that John's dad probably wasn't more than twenty yards away.
Focus on the bigger picture.
John is poised to move… Like a cat ready to pounce. Or maybe it was more like a rabbit waiting for the slightest noise to take off running. Bro could end it there. John wasn’t even aware of his presence. Just a well-aimed throw and it all be over. So he had no idea why exactly he was hesitating. Why watching John act every bit the part of cornered prey was so fascinating. The near silent way he was breathing, the way he kept perfectly still just to keep as many of his senses open to signs of attack as he could. It showed a level of concentration that he didn’t think the kid he first met was capable of.
That boy who had barely looked at him when they first arrived in the Egbert household before he was grabbing Dave by the wrist and running up the stairs, stumbling over at least three of them on the way up. The one who would only sparingly glance at him during meals, before talking rather loudly to anyone else. Sometimes outright ignoring any and all attempts the elder Strider would make to get a conversation going, with John or in general. This kid had something lodged up his ass about Dave’s older brother, and if Bro could be perfectly honest, the curiosity was getting to him. Especially since he could also see the way John would glance at him repeatedly when he thought Bro wasn’t looking. Their earlier banter was actually the most they'd spoken to each other this entire visit.
And that's when he knew what he had to do next.
It was simple enough, and it was over quickly. He took a deliberate step, snapping a twig half hidden in the snow. It’s enough to alert John. With cat-like reflexes he pivots on the balls of his feet and lobs a snowball that hits Bro square in the chest. The game was over, Team Egbert had won.
“YES!” John’s cheerful outcry was deafening after the prolonged quiet and he jumps up and down in the snow, pumping his fist in the air. “I did it! I beat you! I whooped your ass, good! So much for that superior Strider speed and agility, huh?! In the end, it meant jack shit, didn’t it, Mr. Strider?”
“John! Language!” Mr. Egbert quickly chastised as he joined the two of them just past the line of trees that surrounded their backward. “And this is hardly sportsmanlike behavior, son.”
John had the decency to look abashed, but when Dave joined in with a “Yeah, John. No one likes a sore winner,” he just stuck out his tongue at his best friend.
“Good game, little guy. You bested me.” Bro decided to give John an out from the quickly becoming uncomfortable situation. John’s brilliant smile was a prize all it’s own.
“Thanks, Mr. Strider,” John mumbled shyly, scuffing a boot on the white powdered floor.
“Pretty sure I made it clear from the start that you can call me Bro.” The elder Strider smirked when John’s ears just turned redder, ignoring the quirked brow from his little brother.
“Bro…” John tested the name out on his tongue. It sounded good in his voice. He smiled up at Bro almost timidly, nervously licking his lips. “You were really good. It was a pretty close call, and I’m pretty sure that I just won out of sheer dumb luck. How about I fix you up that hot chocolate you wanted? I know I can’t feel my toes anymore. I can’t even imagine what it must be like for you and Dave.”
“Does Dave get a hot chocolate, too?” Dave asked, voice thick was sardonic amusement.
If it was possible, John’s ears only turn redder, the color creeping down his neck, since his cheeks were already pretty red from the cold. He recovered quick. “Well, I mean… if you have to have one. I thought I’d just make one for everyone but you. But I don’t want you to start crying over it. So I guess I’ll make you one, too.” He snickered and playfully shoved at Dave’s shoulder. “C’mon! Lets get you thawed out.”
Dave accepted the shove like a light smack to a punching balloon. He went with the move then righted himself quickly, expression never changing. “You guys go on ahead. Gonna help wipe all the snow off my Bro so that he doesn’t drip on your carpet.”
John quirks a brow, glancing over at the elder Strider skeptically, but then he shrugs. “Suit yourself. Try not to turn into icicles, though.”
Dave smirked. “Scouts honor.”
That’s enough to appease John. With a nod, he asks his dad to help him with the hot chocolates and the two Egberts retreat back into the warmth and safety of their home.
Bro bought Dave’s snow clearing excuse probably as much as John had, so once they were alone, he made a decent show of brushing the few flecks of snow off his chest where John had hit him with the snowball. “Well, thanks for your help, little man. Don’t know how I could have gotten all that off without you.” He knows Dave is rolling his eyes behind his shades. He doesn’t have to see it. He doesn’t have to ask, doubts Dave would tell him even if he did. So they stood there, enjoying the brisk air as it stabbed it’s way into their tender lungs. It was like a stand off. See who could last the longest with the quiet torture until one of them would break.
It was Dave, of course. Pussy.
“You let John win on purpose, didn’t you?”
Bro shrugged a shoulder, looking indifferent for all the world to see. “Might have had a sudden moment of philanthropic pity and let the tiny Egbert win probably his first game ever. Little guy looked like he could use a confidence boost.”
Dave scoffed softly and Bro was sure his eyes were rolling again. “You like him.”
It wasn’t a question and so it didn’t really require an answer. Bro just shrugged a shoulder again. Like it wasn’t a big deal to show interest in a guy almost half a year younger than the kid brother he had raised himself from infancy. Totally natural and not a big deal. The fact that John and Dave were best friends? Even less of a big deal.
The silence stretched out between them again, a near solid minute this time. “Does it bother you?” Bro finally found himself asking.
He glanced at his kid brother who just shrugged apathetically. “Can’t say I wouldn’t find it weird. But if you guys are into each other, and believe me, it looks like John’s into you, it’s not really my place to say no. It’d make me a hypocrite, actually, since John gave his reluctant blessing to let me date his cousin.” Dave took a deep breath, as if it cost him a lot to be this magnanimous. “You’re both adults. Even if one of you is a fucking dirty cradle robber. I don’t have much say in your romantic lives other than this: if you fuck him, please make it in a time a place where I won’t hear you and I won’t risk walking in on the two of you. That’s it. That’s all I ask. Literally. Thats it. Oh, and the common courtesy to make sure I don’t find any traces of after effects of your tribute to the beast with two backs.”
Bro nods. “Fair enough. So you think John’s into me?” He could feel the color rise high on his cheeks and suddenly he was eighteen years old himself again.
Dave snorts softly, stuffing his thickly gloved hands into his pockets. “Yeah, he’s not being very subtle about it, either. But maybe that’s just because I know him. Still. Don’t just jump his bones man. An Egbert has to be wooed.”
“Wow, Dave. Really? And here I’ve been getting on just fine just grunting at my sexual conquests and beating them over the head before dragging them off to my cave for a night of debauchery.” This time it was his turn to roll his eyes at his little brother.
Dave huffed in laughter and motioned that the two of them finally make their way in from the cold.
Once inside and stripping off scarves, gloves, jackets, and sweaters, Bro finally found the words to voice a small issue that had been plaguing his mind for a little while now. “So… You and John’s cousin?”
Dave paused where he was hanging his wool cap to dry on the coat rack near the fireplace. “Yeah?”
“The one that’ll be here in a couple of days for the New Year. The cute one whose family owns Betty Crocker?”
“That’s her. Her name’s Jane.” Dave eyed his older brother just a touch warily.
“Yeah, okay.” Bro hung his own wet things out to dry. “When did you figure you’d tell me about that little relationship?”
“I think I just did.”