Chapter Text
You are about to meet the famous, yet very elusive, Lalonde- Strider offspring; it’s close to your Dad and Roxy's wedding, and thinking on it, it’s pretty weird that you hadn't met half of your new family before then.
But of course you’ve met Roxy prior. Geez, your Dad did have that much common sense in these moments, but see, you haven’t actually met the twins until today; the day before the wedding.
Your soon-to-be mom is coming back from the airport with her kids and your Dad as an escort. Dave and Rose have been in Texas with their own dad, probably enjoying some last minute quality time before the whole thing starts here.
So, as your eyes finally rest on the pair of blondes at the front door, the lopsided grin staining your mouth is expected. There are butterflies crashing into the walls of your stomach but you make sure to keep a cool exterior.
Both your Dad and Roxy appear behind them, carrying bright purple and red suitcases. You vaguely wonder if Roxy had a good flight with her kids. Texas is kinda far away.
Your ears only half listen when Dad explains the layout of the house and plan for the next couple of days to the twins. What does trigger your ears was the name you’ve heard before in conversations about a man who loved puppets. "I wished Dirk could've stayed here," he changed topics faster than one could say flipping fedoras. Dirk? As in their dad, Dirk? He came here? For the wedding? You didn’t know that.
Roxy waves him off with a sharp snap of her thin wrist. "You already swooped in on the mother of his children, I'd say let him rent a room. He looks like a lazy slob, but the man does have money to get something nice, honey," she finishes that candid word, kissing your temple sloppily on the way into the kitchen and announces a round of Bloody Marys for everyone.
You weren’t sure then if she’s joking. It’s 8 in the morning! And no way she’s gonna start chugging the day before her wedding!
Dad smiles after his fiancée with that newfound sappy ‘That’s going to be my wife’ smile and claps a warm hand on your shoulder heartily as he trails Roxy. "Help them with the suitcases, son." You nod dumbly, blinking at what just happened. With Dad gone, all of you are alone for the first time ever.
When your Dad finally said Roxy was bringing her kids to Washington, it didn't really hit you until they stood right in front of you right now. It's still kinda surreal. Even though they’re right here. Right by the door. Yeah. You got this, you think, shaking off any buggers in your stomach, you’ve totally got this.
They look relaxed from their flight with baggy sweats adorning their slim bodies.
It’s time to make an impression on your new brother and sister.
"Oh my god, hey guys! I'm John Egbert! Uh, James' son!" It seems a pretty smooth introduction to your 11 year old self. You are too excited to notice just what kind of impression it leaves them.... You might’ve, probably, maybe, given Rose and Dave a reason to raise those eyebrows. But whatever! You are way too energized to really notice such a thing.
Rose looks so much like her mother, maybe a shade or two off with those almost purple-looking eyes, but she has the same dainty curve of her mouth and heart-shaped face. The black lipstick stands out to you though. You haven’t met a girl your age who wears lipstick, never mind it black. "Hello John. I'm Rose, it's nice to meet you," her voice reminds you of velvet, slightly rough but soft as-- well, a rose petal. She steps closer to him, arms lifting apart a little, pretty face taking on a hint of amusement and sincerity. You feel a rush of blood slip into your cheeks at the display, yet nonetheless, you tread forward to hug her back.
It only lasts for a moment, though it’s enough for you to remember that you’re getting a sister.
You turned to Dave, eyes surely wide and shining as you stare at your new brother.
The pointy shades have the same effect on you as Rose's lipstick. They hide most of his pale, unblinking pokerface, revealing only enough to show a light sprinkle of freckles dusted over his fine nose and cheekbones. He and Rose seem to share that great face structure. John wondered if it was a mixture from Roxy and their dad. The white-blonde hair, however, was tones lighter than his sister and mom's, sweeping over his forehead effortlessly stylish, looking like a younger member of those boy bands girls at your school gossip over during break. You can see that Dave probably already had that happening to him. Gossiped over, you mean. With that skin like Snow White and face a lot like a typical Prince Charming, but with the quirky look of those weird sunglasses, the guy is really cute--
Er.
Wha... Um.
Now there’s another reason for the blood rising up to your face, licking from your neck, cheeks, and ears. Your hands curl and uncurl at your pants' side, fingers delicately twitching, and eyes shifting from his pretty face to Rose's pretty face. Who looks back at you curiously, black lips still rounding up. Uh, uh, uh.
"H-hi!" you stutter. You totally stutter. Could you get any lamer? Now you have to cover up the thought that you think both of your new step-siblings were really pretty, maybe your brother even more....??
- Um........
You feel your heart thundering behind your ribcage, nervous and uneasy to move on from the train wreck his brain is currently traveling through. You leap onto Dave, arms wrapping around his skinny frame, much lankier than Rose's, and giggle, anxiety melting away, at the realization that Dave’s the same height as his twin. A. K. A a half a head shorter than you. But he’s pretty sturdy, maybe from all the fights Roxy says he and his dad do?
"Oohmf," the noise is press from his mouth as you cling to him. "Wow. 'Sup dude. Not dissing on the newborn brotherly bonding moment but I'm like, 95 percent sure you're crushing my lungs. Don't wanna die the day before the big shabang, you know? There's no party without the Strider, can't kill the Strider, man. Don't kill the party when it hasn't even begun yet. That would be a tragedy for the ages. Don't cause one of those. Don't do it." Even with the dramatic light use of his ramble, Dave stays tense under your body and you suddenly become much too aware of this.
Letting go of him with "Hehee, sorry," You still feel the stupid happy grin on your face.
Dave rolls his shoulders in its socket, jokingly telling you that even if you lift logs in your free time, you still need to work on everything else. You retort if he even knew what working out was with being so skinny. Rose conceals her husky chuckle behind a manicured hand and array of perfect white teeth. It is very much the beginnings of a beautiful step-sibling/friendship occurrences between you and Rose but the start of the budding bromance you and Dave were about to tackle.
See? Everything is okay. No weirdly homosexual thoughts in this brain. Nope. None at all. No....
So the next day, their parents get married. Roxy is glowing in her dress of blending, exploding colors. Dad can't keep his eyes off her when she walks down the aisle. Rose is smiling a little too hard in a plum designer maid of honor gown, hissing about paying for a bottle of old wine for their honeymoon. You and Dave stand next to Dad, acting as best man and groomsmen, occasionally getting each other to fall victim to fits of snorts and giggles (you) over extremely lame jokes (Dave).
It isn't until the reception that he got to met Dirk, a tall man with blonde and spiky hair, just as carelessly fashionable as his son. He not only wears the same sunglasses as Dave, but also has the same habit of only moving a single muscle in his face. Oddly enough, it’s the eyebrow thing Rose and Dave did when you met them.
Dirk likes you, calling you a, "Kawaii shota." Whatever that means, it has both the Lalonde- Strider kids snickering and Roxy beating him with a limping bouquet of pinks and blues.
But even as they laugh at something you’re not really sure about, you think that Dave’s laugh is really... nice. The sound of it relaxes your muscles for whatever reason. Just as you’re about to inwardly claim it as the best thing ever; you remember his mom just married your Dad. Making him you’re brother. And that’s he’s a boy. Boy. Just like you are.
You’re not sure how you feel about the disappoint gathering in your gut and try to move on to where Dad is offering Rose and Dirk the cake he made for the reception.
You are still a bit surprised that he came. Dad was usually a tradition kinda guy but you guess that meeting Roxy had a chilling effect on him. Oh, what were you saying!? Of course it did! The man at last calmed down on all the sweets, reducing his obsessive baking tick to five days outta the whole week. That plus the amount of alcohal infused pastries Dad has made on meeting her, you don’t have to worry about him shoving a cake under your nose at every hour of the day. Now it’s just half the time. It’s mind blowing how she did that to him.
The party rages on into the night. You dance with Roxy as neon lights sprout across the floor, Dad takes Rose’s hand and twirls her around to the beat of the music and to your shock, Dad offers Dave a dance after his turn with Roxy. Then in another weird twist, Dave smirks and accepts.
What even is life right now?
You sit at a table watching your Dad and your brot—eh, Dave (feels more natural) do the Chicken Dance surrounded by some other of party go-ers. Off to your left, you spy Rose passing Roxy a small rectangular and oh boy those are some big diamonds. You didn’t even know they could fit those things that size on necklaces like that. How did Rose afford that? Roxy laugh is slurred by the numerous drinks she’s had, it’s something you can tell from here, and see her shake a finger at her daughter. You think you can see her mouth saying, “Nicely done” or maybe it was “Wanna pack some gum?” Hmm...
Your hands move to unbutton the sleeves of your white dress shirt. You’re not entirely sure where you left the jacket...but it has to be somewhere! Oh you’ll cross that bridge when you get to it.
“I think that’s some passive-aggressive warfare shit.” You look up, blinking to see Dave standing before you, hands buried deep in the pockets of his pants. Unlike your loosened tie around your neck, his is gone all together.
You stare at him for a moment, blank. What was he talking about?
He pulls a seat next to you. Nodding to your left, he continues with, “Yeah. Mother and sister dearest there have that weird psychological thing going on. So if they ever leave you a freakin’ autograph from one of those B-rate actors from those equally shitty movie posters in your room, you’ll know you’re in deep shit.”
You note as he talks, he still has the shades on. It’s dark in here though. But as soon as he remarks on the glorious actors from your golden movies, you forget the thought and charge in to defend what the amazing men and women of Hollywood cannot do.
After a while (turns out to be an hour) of talking and poking fun at each other, you stand up, hand reaching for him, and say seriously, “No more games dude. We need to settle the build up of testosterone and handle this like men: Dance Battle.” He about to protest, you know he is, brows already arching over the shades when you drag him onto the dance floor.
Yet just as you’re about to beat his skinny butt down, the upbeat dub-step music slows and all of the sudden, it’s some slow-dance. Couples are already latching onto each other and starting to sway. A little ways off, Dad and Roxy are holding each other, their heads bowed together as they whisper. You stand there awkwardly (well more than the norm), restarting to think of how this was suppose to turn out when the shiny glimpse of white-blonde hair steals your gaze.
Dave is standing right in front of you, and is that a blush? Oh no, no it isn’t. The red light just passed by. Man this is very awkward. You’re about to laugh this whole mess off and offer to go back to the table, head reeling, when he holds out his hand.
“Ugh?” You are sure someone has taken your intestines and wrung them out.
“Come on, Egbert. You ask out a lady to dance and expect to leave her hanging at the dance floor. Don’t be that guy, John.”
You are very caught up on that. Since, you know, that was the first time he said your name. You met the guy last night; you think he would’ve said it before but no. Until now. And it makes you feel like the time you ate too many cupcakes.
But you also realize he’s making this ok. Nothing weird about two new step-brothers dancing as a joke at their parents wedding. Hahaha nope!
“Well thank you madame. I’ll lead,” you state at once.
“Why would you lead? You’re like an overgrown baby chick.”
“I’m taller and the taller one always leads.”
“Yeah whatever, man. If you mess up, I’m leading.”
Your hands are sweaty because of the heat in the room, you reason to think, as you put your hands where you think his waist would be. His slip up and around your shoulders and neck. You’re dancing. You keep looking down at your feet, trying (and failing) not to step on his feet. At stepping on his glossy dress shoes for the hundredth time, Dave unexpectedly stops, bringing you almost to the floor and crushing into Rose and Dirk. They give the two of you an unreadable look before dancing away.
What was that? Why did Dave stop? Did he get annoyed? Will he not want to talk to you anymore?
“Blew your chance Egderp.” Egderp? That was original. You tell him this and he moves back and comes closer in a fluid movement, his hands move to where you were on him. “I’m leading ‘cause you really suck at dancing.” You’re acutely aware of where his hand rests on your sides. You move your hands to lightly put them on his shoulder and the position is a little weird ‘cause of the height difference but.... You swallow. “Like seriously dude, you’re worse than Mom over there and she’s been drinking since last night.” Well, you guys are certainly moving a lot better than when you were leading. You give him that. You move you head a bit to look down at him.
“Where did you learn to dance? My Dad would take me to an instructor to learn but I was never really good. I got two left feet.”
“No shit.”
“But Dave, it is the honest shit.”
Dave smiles and it’s even better than when he laughed. The freckles on his cheeks and nose shift with the movement and you mirror the gesture on your face. The lights bouncing around make his skin look twice as pale and not in a bad way. It really nice and at a glance to your hands by his neck, you can really see the difference between the skin colors. You’re way tanner than him. Partly from genetics and partly cause of all the playing you do outside. But as you feel your blue eyes widen along with your smile, his disappears, leaving you with something that looked like a mask.
“I strife sometimes with Bro. You gotta be agile and nimble as a freakin’ ninja for those things. Gotta be quick or else you’d get a throwing star in the eye. Or a sword in your back when you’re not being careful cause you notice that the puppets are suddenly lined up behind you and you’re all like ‘What the hell man? I didn’t know this was a peep show. I would’ve tried harder not to be bleeding all over the floor like this. I’m really fucking blushing scarlet now and I’m totally not going to get into that but I’m in shock right now Egbert. You haven’t said to shut my yapper yet.”
“You call your dad Bro?” is the first thing out of your mouth because—Dang. That was a lot to take in.
“Yeah. He’s not dad. That’s weird as Pope marrying gays. He’s Bro. You know?”
Not really but you nod anyways. “The fighting thing is really cool,” you try instead. “Do you fight with real swords and stuff?”
He nods, looking he’s fighting a tiny smile. “Of course.” There definitely some arrogance there but hey, if you could kick ass too, you’d be thinking you got bragging rights too.
“Think I could come and see sometimes?” You sound excited but you don’t really care at this point. Dave frowns, as if remembering something, however when you blink, it’s a smirk.
“We’ll have to talk to Dadbert to see what he wants his princess to be seein’.” You were about to start snapping at the term princess and whine what was it with him and your last name but the words still on your tongue as the two of you stop moving to the music. “Okay, I think we’re at the limits of how long two newly acquainted bros can dance at the ‘rents wedding, ironically of course.” His hands release you and... you feel oddly...cold.
Again, there’s that disappointment digging into your bones but you blow it off.
Pachooooo.
There it goes. Live free and prosper. Or do die in a ditch. Either or.
That’s about the time Rose wonders over and soon, the three of you are back at the table from before, each sneaking sips of the wine Rose had, quote, found, end quote.
She’s the only one who isn’t a giggling fool by the bottom of the bottle. Ok, neither is Dave but he keeps coming in for a fist dump, pokerface on, and calling you his bromie. His bro-in-arms. His brojob. His amigo. Brolet...
You only remember laughing and hugging the two of them to you for the rest of the night.
So the big day is soon over and just as Dad and... Mom Roxy (she insisted, you couldn't resist the trembling bottom lip, you totally understand now, Dad) speed off to the airport on a trip to England. You stay back with Dave and Rose at your house, your cousins keeping an eye on them.
Those three weeks mostly consist of Jane helping you initiate Dave and Rose to the Egbert clan with a cake to the face, Dirk popping up "randomly" at the same time as Grandpa Jake's morning workouts routines in the backyard, and more goofing off with Rose, Dave, and Jade around the neighbourhood.
Then Dad and Mom Roxy came back. Dad already starts on a plan to move to Texas since that is where Dave and Rose are use too, although they both look indifferent about the whole thing... Your cousins leave. Jane daring to leave monstrous, freshly baked Betty Crocker brownies on your nightstand. You swear Grandpa and Dirk swap numbers, resulting in Dave to break a firm nonchalant view on his father by almost coughing up a cow when you tell him. Though Rose only smiles, writing something down in her little black book of secrets (you like to pretend it was that instead of a diary). In the end, Jade's leaving left connection between the squad and a blissful tremor in your heart.
It stays kinda great for the next 6 years.
Your fall into the endless, black void known as love on the other hand, leaves a couple of horrorstuck chapters to talk about though.