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They agree to call on a Tuesday night.
Which is such a weird day to pick. A Tuesday? Bdubs had wanted to ask, voice pitched high and incredulous like the clock hadn't just ticked past 1:43 AM. Was that supposed to be a special date of somethin? Last he checked none of Etho's anniversaries lined up with March 27th, and man had he checked hard.
It wasn't the day that Etho joined Mindcrack, nor was it close to the day they'd first hopped on a call together. The date hadn't even jumped out as one for a UHC or Survival of the Fittest recording session.
In fact, the only thing that really pulled up was a video from 2013, a humble addition to Etho's single-player world regarding a library cafe and redstone that feels much easier to swallow nowadays than it had over a decade ago.
It's just...a random Tuesday. A random Tuesday that isn't random at all because Etho wants to turn his webcam on that day and Bdubs would be damned before he's caught twiddling his thumbs over some important reference that's somehow managed to escape him.
And yet the date reads 3/27/2026 in a thin font at the bottom of Bdubs' monitor, the clock above it ticking to 9:52, and he's no closer to figuring out why today is so great as he had been a week ago. He'd gotten more than a little desperate an hour ago, asking Nicole innocently if there was anything special about that day as they tucked the girls into bed.
Her face had pinched, and she'd agreed to think about it. Still, after goodnight kisses and soft promises to see their daughters in the morning when the sunshine woke up, Nicole shook her head, stumped. A birthday maybe, she'd offered, a confused smile playing at her lips.
Bdubs had shoved down the tightness in his chest at that, sneaking a kiss in for himself. If he couldn't remember it, then Nicole definitely wouldn't know either.
And so he'd turned, content to worry in his office by himself, before Nicole grabbed onto his arm and wished him a good night as though she knew Bdubs would be up long after she'd finished the last few chapters of her book and dimmed their bedside lamp.
Bdubs had spluttered, claiming that he'd be in bed with his wife long before she reached the final plot twist that wasn't coming because Nicole was reading some nonfiction jargon about family dynamics.
Nicole only laughed, and Bdubs sighed long and laborious, before he agreed that he probably wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight. Not with Etho's whole...
He leans back in his office chair, smoothing his fingers out across the fabric of his joggers. The time reads 9:55. Five more minutes and Etho's mystique would officially come to an end.
Or maybe not, Bdubs considers. There'll be more to investigate, like why Etho's walls are decorated or why they aren't. If Etho dresses comfortably and in what colors, or if he owns any pets based on whatever hairs might be found on his shirt.
Said pets certainly won't be visible on camera; Bdubs has long known about the shed Etho records in, pictures of the exterior sent his way for an opinion on whether the roof looked fine or not.
Bdubs wants to laugh thinking about it all over again. Even outside of Minecraft Etho can't seem to escape his fear of building roofs.
Maybe he can ask about that, see the way Etho's face actually looks when he's caught off-guard by a teasing remark. Bdubs can already hear the way Etho's voice grows louder than normal and a hair shy of shrill, does his face grow red too? Does his jaw open or does he grin like he can't believe the audacity of whoever's talking to him?
And why?
It's that sort of thing that makes it seem as though Etho will never lose his mystique entirely. Learning information will open the gateways to dig deeper, giving Bdubs a sliver more knowledge about Etho than the rest of the world, and wow if that doesn't feel pretty rewarding in its own right.
Like befriending a street cat, Bdubs thinks with a grin, a comparison he's seen plenty of throughout both his and Etho's community. He's never been much of a cat person, but for Etho? Maybe Bdubs could turn a blind eye and make an exception.
Besides, it's not like he can compare Etho to a dog. Etho doesn't just click with people; it takes patience, and the willingness to return day after day, treat in hand until Bdubs' name grows synonymous with banter-filled pleasantries.
Even then the work never ends. Not making an effort to reach out to Etho was a one-way ticket to snapping that thickening string of trust, and having to bind it once more with his own cord.
Bdubs still can't believe he'd started as a mere coworker of Etho's, interacting for the sake of what little money views used to bring them back in the day. And look at them now, best friends for fifteen years and still going strong.
Strong enough that Etho wants to show him his face. Man, if that doesn't fill Bdubs with a boyish excitement he hasn't felt since elementary school. He wants to laugh, high and hysteric in the quiet space of his office, all because Etho wants to show Bdubs his face.
He hadn't even known that was an option, not since...well, not since Bdubs used to joke about that sort of thing back on Mindcrack. Those short, throw-away bids for connection never seemed to stick with Etho, so Bdubs had learned to drop it and let the guy's privacy be his own concern.
Sure, he'd laugh any time a Hermit brought up new "Etho Lore" they'd discovered, but that was as far of a contribution as he would allow himself to be associated with. He wasn't interested in cross-referencing his own discoveries with the others; it felt too violating.
And maybe the smallest piece of Bdubs felt giddy and just a little nervous knowing he was privy to information no one else was. That he could call out when Etho had given out a false detail, but actively chose not to.
His monitor blinks and Bdubs nearly jumps in his seat as Discord's blaring ringtone sings through his earbuds. He rolls his chair forward, hands flying to turn down the volume. His gaze finds the clock easily, 10:00 PM plastered in thick, white font.
The monitor feels far away as Bdubs stares at the "Incoming Call" notification. Etho's calling. Judas priest, Etho's calling.
...he feels sick.
It's a little too easy to excuse the tremble in his hand as excitement as he reaches for his mouse, carefully dragging it over the "ACCEPT" button on screen. It'll be okay—it's just Etho. He's known the guy long enough to know this isn't gonna make things weird.
Seeing Etho's face will only give Bdubs something to imagine talking to that isn't some block character on Minecraft.
And they'll probably chat each other's ears off beforehand, right? Etho has never been the type to throw himself into the deep-end, especially not in matters regarding his privacy. He'll test the waters, dip his toes in and ask Bdubs about his day.
Heck, Etho might not turn his camera on at all, just because he knows Bdubs won't make a fuss over it.
Discord's ringtone suddenly quiets. Oh, he should probably answer that.
With a click Discord opens brightly in its own tab, its dark background the sole light within the office. He waits patiently for the blue of Etho's icon to take over and illuminate the space.
And yet the blue icon never shows, instead giving way to a careful black screen. Bdubs' brows knit—maybe a connection issue? Etho had said he lived out in the middle of nowhere.
Miniscule squares dance in the center of the screen before finally they slip back into the void and Bdubs' office grows bright as expected. Except, it isn't with the familiar Discord blue of Etho's icon. Instead, it's with an image Bdubs has only ever allowed himself to think about in his dreams.
Etho stands before his webcam, caught in the moments before he leans back into a black office chair as though he'd finished repositioning the camera to his liking. Bdubs can't help but lean forward himself, scrambling to drink in the sight.
For one, Etho's eyes are brown, the color soft and shape slightly downturned and framed behind a pair of square glasses that reflect the bright light of what Bdubs can assume is a ring light.
He wants to ask why Etho has one—if it was new or something he'd plucked from an old tub of electronics, like he'd been saving it for a moment just like this.
He should. But he can't.
He can't when something else is flashing in neon signs that forces Bdubs to clench his teeth less his jaw fall onto the floor.
Because Bdubs has never speculated much on the color of Etho's hair. He guessed it wasn't white, but always thought it'd be a dark shade of brown, just a breath shy of black for the sake of making an argument to anyone who claimed it was the other color.
Etho's hair isn't either of those options.
It's...blue.
Better yet, it isn't just his hair that's blue either. Bdubs drags his eyes down the screen, taking in Etho's matching eyebrows and beard.
"Bdubs?" Etho's voice echoes through his earbuds. He can't explain how gratifying it feels to finally see the grin he's heard through a microphone for over a decade now, though it looks a little tight as Etho adjusts in his seat. "Can you hear me?"
Bdubs' mouth moves before he can stop it. "Uh, yes—yeah! I—I just—you're not bald?"
There's a beat of silence before Etho's eyes draw themselves comically wide, his face screwing up in clear incredulity. Y'know, for someone whose Minecraft character has a mask, Etho is pretty damn expressive. "You thought I'd be bald?"
"I mean, yeah!" Bdubs splutters out. "That's practically the number one rule with these things, isn't it?" He crosses his arms, even with his own camera still shut off, and drops his voice into a lower pitch like he were a viewer. "Don't wanna show your face? That's fine, that's fine-" His tone morphs into something snobby as he curls his lip. "-if you're okay with the world knowing you're lacking in the hair department."
Etho's head tilts and Bdubs feels like a moth to a lightbulb the way he tracks the movement, wide and unblinking. He's sure that if he looks away Etho will disappear—and his blue hair with him.
"I wouldn't say I'm lacking."
No kidding, Etho has a full set of hair and a beard that looks just as full as Bdubs' had when he'd begun to grow it out. Only, Bdubs hadn't decided to dye that blue. He didn't need to stand out that much-
Wait a second.
"Hey," Bdubs calls out rudely, squinting at his screen. Etho doesn't flinch like Bdubs has grown used to others doing, but he supposes Etho's been long familiar with handling his abrasive demands for attention. "I thought you said you 'blended in with the crowd.' Liar much?"
Etho raises a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, looking like a kid whose hand's been caught in a cookie jar. "I can't give all my secrets away," he says with a soft laugh. "If I said I had blue hair, it'd be pretty obvious who to look for."
...okay, yeah. That tracks. Throwing two million people off by making them search for someone who looks "ordinary" is definitely a play straight from Etho's book. He might be in his late thirties but Etho still seems to play the public like a damn fiddle.
Play Bdubs like a fiddle.
"Sure," he huffs out, his chest feeling the slightest bit tight. "But you coulda let a guy know! Not like I'd take to Twitter blabbering on about your mischief."
"Maybe I like the surprise."
"Maybe I don't."
And Etho—Etho doesn't grin. He doesn't smirk either, charming and voice dripping with sarcasm. Instead, he smiles, and Bdubs can't help but feel himself do the same.
"Then I'm sorry." And boy does Etho sound so earnest, like he'd broken a promise and couldn't think of any other way to make it better. "At least it's over with, huh? Is it all you imagined it'd be?"
More than you'd ever know. "I didn't imagine it at all!"
"Uh huh, sure," Etho chuckles.
"But," Bdubs begins, rising from his seat to turn on his office lights. The room illuminates with a click, and Bdubs sags back into his seat. "Since we're doing this, we gotta do this right."
He just barely manages to catch the lifting of one of Etho's brows as Bdubs reaches above his own monitor, fingers pinching at his webcam. A single click and Bdubs stares into the unblinking eye of his own camera.
He lifts a hand up to its lense. There's no other hand to complete the offered gesture. Bdubs does it all the same.
"Jon. I'm Jon."