Chapter Text
You reread it, take a deep breath, and click the send button. You have no idea how long it'll take him to respond, or even to see it. He's not online on Pesterchum, so you have no way of knowing if he's even at home, much less on the computer.
But Rose is online, so you open up a window to chat with her.
TG: sent it
TG: you proud of me
TG: you feeling your eyes well up with tears
TG: do you need a hanky rose
TT: Indeed.
TT: If it isn't too personal, I am slightly curious as to the contents of this email.
TG: basically i explained why i wanted to not put my dick in his ass
TT: Including...?
TG: including
TG: ah fine ill just send it to you
You switch over to the correct window, check for a response (of course there isn't one yet), go into your Sent box and forward it to Rose's email address.
TG: sent
TT: One moment...
TT: Received.
TG: its not pretty
TG: nowhere near my usual level of prose
TT: I find it harder to read when constantly being interrupted by my chat client alerting me to a new message.
TG: fuck you i talk when im nervous
TG: so just ignore me okay
TG: im really
TG: honestly
TG: terrified right now
TG: i mean johns dad is a rad dude
TG: guy seems like the type to not judge people
TG: and im sure hoping both that im not wrong about that and that john picked it up from him
TG: but rose what if he
TG: gets disgusted by me
TG: or worse hates me for hiding it for this long
TG: like oh dave you lied to me for years of course we cant date i need a relationship based on mutual trust and understanding
TG: and also my wife needs to look like cindy lauper mixed with eva mendes
TG: or worst yet
TG: what if he thinks im joking
TT: I am fairly certain John's taste in feminine aesthetics centers more on Liv Tyler than Eva Mendes.
TT: Although Cyndi Lauper isn't too far from what you could look like, at least in some of the pictures Google is showing me.
TG: fuck
TG: i meant
TG: that is not who i meant at all
TG: you know the girl from princess diaries
TT: Julie Andrews?
TG: fucking no
TG: anne hathaway shit
TG: god fucking damn it rose
TT: Dave, did you really think Anne Hathaway was Cyndi Lauper?
TT: And that Cyndi was spelled Cindy?
TG: you know what fuck this all
TG: point is im
TT: A little bit terrified?
TG: terr
TG: yeah
TT: And then you see the look in his eyes?
TG: ...
TG: fuck you
TG: fuck you in the most unpleasant way possible
TT: Only one question.
TG: what
TT: Did you really make a font out of your own handwriting?
TG:
TG: yes
You sigh and go back to the email window. No response still. You guess he really isn't on.
Just then, Pesterchum dings, letting you know that ectoBiologist has just signed on. Your stomach and heart begin performing complex acrobatic tricks like your ribs are a jungle gym.
TG: shit hes online
TT: I can see that.
TG: what do i do
You stare at his username and all at once, a window pops up from him.
-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --
EB: hey dave. how's it going?
TG: shit rose what do i say
TT: My advice: Alert him to the fact that there should be an email in his inbox, and then kindly request that he call you once he is done reading it and digesting its contents.
TG: hey bro
TG: not much
TT: A phone call may help him from taking the wrong meaning from this sudden confession.
EB: cool.
EB: so anyway
TG: theres an email in your inbox
EB: uh. what?
TG: an email
TG: uh
TG: read it and call me after
TG: if you please
TG: okay i did it
TT: Good.
EB: oh, uh
TT: Correct?
EB: sure?
TG: yeah
EB: ?
TG: i mean cool
TG: yeah
TT: Then I hope all goes well.
TT: I'll stay online, but you probably want some time to focus.
TT: Let me know how it turns out.
TG: will do
You lean back in your chair and sigh. You need something to do while you wait, so you don't end up ripping out all of your hair. You reflexively grab your shitty digital camera and turn it on. You flip through the pictures that are still on the memory card, cataloguing the places that you want to go photograph. None of them jump out at you. You sigh grumpily and turn it back off. Normally, photography could at least distract you for a few minutes. You look at your phone, willing him to call already.
TG: shit rose what if hes avoiding me already
Suddenly, your phone buzzes, lighting up blue with John's name plastered all over the display.
TG: wait never mind hes calling now
TG: shit shit shit shit shit
TT: Are you going to answer it?
TG: SHIT
You grab it and press the answer button. After three failed attempts. You're afraid you missed it and he gave up. "John?"
"Yeah, who else would it be?"
You hold in a sigh and switch your phone to your other ear. "How you doing?"
"Well, you asked me to call you..."
"That's correct."
"Well, that's what I'm doing."
You're quiet for a while. Shit. What are you going to do if he rejects you? What are you going to do if he accepts? You're freaking the fuck out.
"So... um... Wow, I have no idea what to say!"
You roll your eyes. You want to say 'tell me about it' but that's way overused and lame. "Same. I... kinda put it all in the letter."
"Yeah, um... about that..."
Great. Here it comes.
"I... don't see any reason why not."
You blink. "...Why not what?"
"You know," he whines. You picture him squirming. "Trying... going out. With you. And me. Me and you."
You don't know what to say. "You and I."
"Oh shut up, no one cares about grammar like that."
"Rose does."
John makes a sound that brings an image of a kitten yawning with its tongue sticking out to your mind. Kind of like a 'yehhhhhgh' thing.
"The fuck was that?"
"The sound of shut up, Dave! Also known as the wild John Egbert's mating call!"
"Whoa, mating? Rushing things, aren't we bro?"
"Wh... Oh my god, shut up, Dave! It's an expression!"
"Yeah, an expression that means 'let's fuck'."
"God!"
"Wrong name. Sheesh, you must be the worst lay ever."
You hear a muffled sound of pure, unmistakable rage. "I am going to punch you so hard when I see you next, I swear to Jesus."
"And I'm going to kiss you."
You can practically hear his jaw snap closed.
"Just... Look, I don't know what Dad will say when I tell him I have a boyfriend... I'm pretty sure he's planning on being a granddad someday, and..."
You swallow. You have no idea what to say about that. "Well, boyfriends aren't always a forever thing, so... Who knows? Maybe you'll find some Anne Hathaway lookalike and dump me." You don't laugh. You try to keep your voice as neutral as possible.
John's quiet for a long time, and you wince. You fucked everything up right out the starting gate, didn't you?
"I'd... rather just... take things one step at a time, you know? I don't like worrying about things miles down the road. Besides. Anne Hathaway isn't really my type?"
"Oh no?"
"No."
You dig your fingers into your closed eyes. "Then who is?"
John doesn't answer. For a long time. "You still there?"
"Look. Listen, I mean. I'm gonna try to make this work, so don't go around... thinking you're not good enough for me or something dumb like that, okay?" He sighs. "If I date someone, I want them to be happy with me. So... yeah."
You look at your computer screen blankly. "Are you gonna... out me to your dad?"
"What?"
"Tell him I'm... you know... unable to be a sperm donor?"
"Oh. No? I mean, that's your business, right? And mine, I guess, now that we're dating."
You smile slightly to yourself. "For real?"
"Duh."
"Rude."
"You're the one who asked me out, numbnuts."
"You're such an ass," you laugh softly.
"And you're a dick." Just the same as always. He hasn't changed at all. You are so fucking grateful for it.
"Thanks, John," you say softly.
"For? Oh. The Dad thing. You're welcome? Heh, I'm just being a decent guy."
"Yes, you are." You close your eyes. "...Is it too early to say I love you?"
"I love you too," John said.
You feel your ears warm up. "...Moron."
He just giggles. "I can't wait to see you, Dave...! Any word on when you can come up again?"
You look at your calendar, glaring at the little red dot in the middle of one of the numbers. "Maybe Christmas?"
"Really? You sure about that? Will Bro be okay with that?"
"Maybe," you admit. "Maybe... But I'll ask him, okay?"
"Okay. Miss you, Dave."
"I miss you too."
"Aaaaand Dad's calling me for dinner. I'll be online later tonight, okay?"
"Yup. Talk to you later."
"Okay. Bye, Dave."
"Bye."
You hang up and sigh, watching his icon on Pesterchum until it goes grey. Then you open up your conversation with Rose.
TG: he said yes
TG: oh my fuck he said yes
TT: And he was okay with your other revelation?
TG: yeah i
TG: im really fucking happy right now rose you have no idea
TT: I can imagine.
TT: Congratulations, Dave.
TT: I wish you both the best.
TG: thanks
TG: oh by the way
TG: any tips on coming out as gay to your boyfriends dad