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“Yo, dude, let me in. I’m spending the night.” Dave had his hands buried deep in his jacket pockets, granted they had holes in them but they did their job keeping his fingers relatively not cold in the evening wind. John stood staring at him, bewildered, his mouth agape. He didn’t see what the big deal was, sure he showed up unannounced and demanded a sleepover but that really was nothing to gawk at the way Egbert was doing, Dave just hoped that the sky was dark enough and the porchlight was dim enough so that he didn’t notice the bruises that marked his face. That was the one thing Dave really didn’t want John noticing.
“What the heck, man!? You can’t just show up randomly out of the blue like this, you didn’t even dignify me with a text in advance, and you don’t even have any supplies, give me one good reason why me and my dad should let you stay.”
“It’s cold as balls out here. In fact, my balls are frozen, and I have to walk one hell of a way just to get here, like traversing rough terrain in the snows of Siberia kind of way, you know. You wouldn’t be so cruel as to turn down a weary traveler begging for your asylum would you? That’s fucked up, Egbert, really fucked up.” John rolled his eyes, “Stay here, let me talk to my dad real quick, he can give you a ride home.” Shit. No, Dave can’t go home, not now. He felt like he should stay away from his apartment for at least eternity, but he definitely couldn’t go back tonight.
“Wait, no-,” Dave hoped that his desperation didn’t show through his voice, “just let me stay here for the night, don’t wanna bother your dad with my mistakes, make him clean up after my mess, I’ll be up and gone by morning. Plus it’s been way too long since we’ve had a slumber party, just us bro’s.” He was fighting to keep his voice level and monotone as it usually was, he really didn’t want to go home. “Slumber party? What are we gonna stay up all night and have a pillow fight?”
“Yeah, man, and talk about the boys we like while we paint our toenails all giddy and giggly and shit.”
John seemed to give up, he let out an exasperated sigh, “Fine, you can spend the night, but you're sleeping on the floor.”
“Works for me.”
It had been a while since Dave had the privilege of being in the Egbertian household, but he didn’t forget a single detail. It was an average suburban neighborhood house, really nothing special except for the sheer amount of jester shit that was everywhere. But to him, compared to his apartment, this might as well be the finest Los Vegas estate asshole-money could buy. For starters, there were no cinderblocks keeping things up right, everything was intact as it should be. Nice and relatively tidy. There also weren’t any smutty puppets ready to jump from the corner or attack from the ceiling. No threat of sword fights, no threat of Bro…
John’s room was pretty messy, which set it apart from the rest of the house. The average teenage boy cave, clothes strewn about on the floor, overflowing from a hamper shoved in a corner, a desktop computer on a wooden desk. He had a twin size bed with a nice bedframe that kept it a good two feet above the freshly-vacuumed carpet. Beat having to sleep on a mattress propped up with cinderblocks and plywood.
“I don’t know how my dad’s gonna feel about me having a friend over without him knowing, so if I get in trouble I’m blaming it entirely on you.” Dave shrugged as he plopped down on the bed, “All’s fair in love and spontaneous sleepovers.” “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go grab some spare blankets for you, and if I’m generous enough maybe a pillow.” John shut the door behind him. Dave took this as his time to unwind just the tiniest amount. He was safe, for now. Bro was a good few miles away, across town. He’d deal with the consequences of leaving the house behind his back when he actually had to deal with it, that was tomorrow’s problem. And tomorrow was at least a few hours away. He didn’t realize how shaky his breaths were until he became aware of the silence in the room and how he was the only one in it. It wasn’t just his breathing that was uneasy, but his hands that kept shaking, his fingers that tapped a restless rhythm on the edge of the bed, his leg that bounced up and down. Despite being in an entirely different house, Dave still couldn’t shake the unnerving feeling he had that Bro was still surveilling him, watching and calculating his every move. He was subconsciously checking around the room for hidden cameras, or a puppet, or something that would activate his fight-or-flight receptors that told him when to leave a house. The room started to seem like it was closing in on itself, trapping him inside, yet he couldn’t move. He was plastered to the bed. Dave snapped his head over to the door as it swung open to reveal John holding two blankets and a pillow.
“You better thank me, I was feeling nice enough to lend you my stuff, here help me make your floor bed.” John’s voice brought him out of his anxiety-induced trance and the room went back to being John’s Bedroom, not a capsule for Dave’s paranoia. He swallowed before speaking.
“Oh thank you my liege for being ever so gracious and bequeathing your luxuries onto me.” He said in a theatrical over-the-top British peasant voice. John scoffed. Dave, finally able to move, scooted off the bed and helped his friend. There was just something about John Egbert that brought Dave some ease. Maybe it was his dorkiness, his blatant idiocracy, or the air of calm and easygoingness that somehow managed to rub off on him whenever he was in the room. The way he always had a smile plastered on his face, like those dogs whose tails are perpetually wagging. Just always in a good mood. Dave guessed it was contagious, cause no matter where he was, if John was there beside him he felt… safe. A dangerous room possibly harboring a camera or weapons turned into a safe space to relax and rest if Egbert walked in. He had a way of soothing his nerves.
Dave would rather die than ever admit this to John, or hell even fully admit it to himself. This notion that John fucking Egbert was able to make him calm down just by existing in his general vicinity stayed between him and his subconscious.
“Jesus fuck–for the love of all things that is not Nic Cage, turn this shitty movie off!” Dave exclaimed as he dramatically flopped down onto the bed and threw his arm over his eyes as Con Air began to play on John’s computer. “Oh shut up, you uncultured hipster, this movie is a masterpiece and you’re lucky you even get to see it!” John lightly slapped his arm. “Oh my god, that has to be one of the worst oxymorons I’ve ever heard, Egbert even you can’t be that dumb. The point of the hipster is to be cultured, the hipster is more cultured than everybody else which makes him the hipster, you completely botched that insult, I’m honestly so embarrassed for you, so much so I might even let you take that insult back. One chance, right your wrong.” He rolled his eyes, “That was a good insult! Cause it’s true, that’s what you are, an uncultured hipster.” Dave sat up, “Dude, I’m not even a hipster.” John lightly slapped Dave’s arm again, “Pshhh, you’re totally a hipster, you literally wear aviators.”
“That’s not fair, you got these for me.”
“Well, yeah, but you still wear them.”
“For ironic purposes, plus these were Ben Stiller’s, you’re telling me you wouldn’t wear these bad boys knowing these belonged to Ben Stiller’s handsome mug?”
“Ha! Gay, you just admitted a dude was handsome.”
“John, listen to me, you can admit when a man is just objectively good-looking without being gay, like Ryan Reynolds. Also do we need to bring up your homoerotic worship of Nic Cage?”
“It’s not ‘homoerotic’ worship, it’s normal worship!”
“Dude, Egbert, there is no such thing as ‘normal worship, those words do not belong together.”
John scoffed and put his hand on Dave’s chest and pushed him back down on the bed, laying down on his side next to him. “You’re gonna miss the movie with your pedantics.” John whispered-yelled. The two fell quiet, and Dave noticed just how close they were. John’s hand was still resting on his chest and his face was only inches away. There was a cozy feel that surrounded the two as they let their eyes linger on each other for way longer than what was necessary. Dave’s glasses had slipped and were now out in the open, staring directly at his friend’s deep blue eyes. There was an odd promise of comfort in those eyes, making it almost impossible for him to peel his gaze away. Fuck the movie, there was a better view right here. John’s eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed slightly. Dave didn’t want to admit to himself that the face he was making was rather endearing.
He bit back the urge to squirm closer when John suddenly reached out his hand. He was expecting a sappy caress to the cheek like in those shitty romance movies, but instead his hand ventured to the space between the bridge of his nose and his left eye, where there was a bruise…And then his forehead where another bruise sat. Shit.
“Dave? What happened? Did you get into a fight at your school?” His previous playful tone was now replaced with one of complete concern, which tugged on Dave’s heart strings. Should he tell him the truth? John just gave him a perfect excuse right there, all he has to say is that he got into a fight at school and he can avoid this whole confrontation. But… a part of Dave really wanted to tell him. Tell him how shitty his home life is and the real reason why he wanted to spend the night. John was in the same boat as him, he’s just a 15-year-old boy, what is he going to do about the situation? He guessed it was safe to tell him.
“Um–no, actually. More like a fight at… home.” Dave’s voice was shakier than he would’ve liked, he didn’t want to completely drop his aloof coolkid shtick. John’s eyebrows knitted together. “What do you mean?” Dave took a deep breath. “Okay, so, you know I don’t really talk to my Bro much, or I guess he doesn’t talk to me. It’s part of the whole irony deal, I guess.” Another inhale. “Sometimes, I really piss him off by kinda just doing shit, anyway, he has a ‘fun’ way of punishing me by beating the shit out of me…” Dave looked at John whose eyes were wide and brows raised. Dave didn’t tell his friends much about his home life. All they knew was that his Bro was ‘too cool’ and ‘elusive’ which were code words he used that really meant neglectful. “So, your Bro gave you those marks?” Dave nodded, now that he was saying it out loud it was kind of just hitting him. He felt truly aware of how messed up that is. No, do not fucking cry. Strider’s don’t cry.
“S-So yeah… um, that’s why–that’s why I came here cause, cause I couldn’t–” fuck. Dave’s voice was cracking and tears began welling up. “Shit.” He said out loud, rubbing his eyes. This was uncool as hell and he really preferred if Egbert didn’t see this little outburst of his. John wrapped his arms around Dave and pulled him in for a hug, He tensed up. “I’m… sorry.” John added, his voice small. Dave needed a way to defuse the situation, it had gotten too deep, he needed to reel it back in. “No, no, it’s fine, it’s whatever– “No, it’s not fine. You’re–you’re abused.” He froze, the tears he managed to wipe away before threatening to come back. Abused. Fuck, he was, wasn’t he?
A silence fell over the two as they grappled with the reality of the situation.
Oh god, I need to get away from my Bro and that apartment, I can’t take this anymore.
Oh god, my best friend is being beaten at home, I need to do something.
“Do… you want to stay for the weekend?” Dave was already testing the waters being here for one night, let alone three? But, here was safe. Here he could rest easy. Here he had John. He’d figure shit out later. Dave’s head throbbed and he felt exhausted, the week’s labors taking its toll. “Maybe.” He murmured as he slowly began dozing off in John’s arms, warm and cradled. “I’ll think about it in the morning.” Dave didn’t really think about the fact that the two were cuddling, it was nice. To be here, in the moment, with Egbert. The movie was almost over and a shit ton of baggage Dave had been lugging around had finally been lifted off his shoulders. “Okay.” John was quiet as he slowly began playing with Dave’s hair. Lifting his arm up briefly, John removed his aviators and set them on the nightstand on their left, then returned his hand to rest on Dave’s waist. The two gazed at each other for what could’ve been years. The only light in the room came from the computer. Neither one of them had noticed that they had been ever so subtly leaning forward. Their noses were touching, then foreheads, then finally lips. Dave gently pressed his lips against John’s, barely registering the action. The next few moments were a blur, a pleasant dizziness took hold of his mind.
Next thing he knew he was the damn little spoon and John had his arms wrapped around him and his face burrowed in the back of his neck. The blankets pulled over them. It didn’t take long for Dave to fall asleep.