Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s hot in Athens. It always is, anyway. There’s not much of a difference today.

Your skin is still as dark as ever, your eyes are still blue, and your hair is still black. You’d mention that you’re still an outcast because of how different your eyes are from the others, the brown-eyed ones, but that’s too depressing. It’s not like you’re not used to it, anyway. It doesn’t matter.

You don’t bother to remember how it is that you came by the name Iohannes. You’re certain that you’ve never experienced a mother’s love before, so it wouldn’t be her. Father died long ago, and is now buried in the land of the brown-eyed. He was the same as them, commonplace, yet you weren’t. You wonder if mother ever had blue eyes, and if she died somewhere out there.

A grunt from beside you jolts you out of your reverie. You look up and see a man, golden-haired and peach-colored skin like the others, though his eyes are covered by a cloth darkened with grime. He asks you of your crime, of what it may be that you are out here, with the other outcasts. Or, as you’ve noticed, what other outcasts lie outside the city walls.

You answer that it is because of your eyes, blue and different, that you are thrown away. He snorts in derision and you’d be offended, you’d punch him as soon as you could, but he doesn’t give you the chance. He unties the cloth from his eyes with one hand, the other still occupied with a staff that you’d assumed was for his blindness. The dirtied garment falls to the ground, useless, and you realize,

when red eyes clash with blue,

no one was ever meant to be alone in the world.

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“Do you believe him?”

Blue eyes look into hidden red and you look up. You brush away the stray hair that falls in your face, dirtied yet golden strands, as you blindly watch your brethren sit beside you on a fallen log. You both make yourselves comfortable as you look forward, listening to the brown-skinned man preach about forgiveness and compassion. It’s actually quite a heart-rending speech because of your disability and his acceptance of it, though you don’t let it show. It would be weakness, and weakness got people killed.

“I’d rather believe in him than believe in nothing at all,” your murmur to your brother in bond. “He seems to be speaking of things with great significance, unlike those high-blood prigs.”

“True.” He says. You both remain silent for a while as he speaks of love, of the continuity and eternity of it, and endless forgiveness.

“The words he speaks are true enough as well.” You mutter. You’re blind, but you can feel his blue eyes gazing at you, burning through your skin and seeking your soul under layers of fear and anger.

“I believe him,” he murmurs to you. You nod but don’t speak, letting him know that you acknowledge his answer.

All is silent as you continue to listen to the kind-hearted stranger, your brother in bond watching over you as you make sense of your world little by little.

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You’re watching it all burn, structures and hordes of people falling to the ground and becoming ashes. You’ve only been there for a visit, just a little peek at your distant cousin’s condition, and you realize too late that he’s far too deep in his insanity to ever be in a proper condition.

“Nero has lost it,” you murmur to your servant. “Rome is burning to the ground, David. What do you suppose we are to do?”

“If I am allowed to make a suggestion complying with your elders, sire?”

“You are allowed.”

You look on at the falling empire, your manservant standing beside you in complete attention. Always the perfect guard, he is. “He may burn with Rome as punishment. As it has been said, an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.”

“Logical.” You murmur back. You say nothing more as you turn away from the ruins, your hands tugging at the reins only slightly as you mount your stallion. “We’ll have much news to return for father, won’t we?” The questioning tone is replaced with an amused one, because you know far too well that father will not be pleased with this. No one could be pleased with this, actually. It just so happened that Rome was not your home in a long time, and as such, you lacked the proper care for it. David thought you too careless for thinking so, but you knew well enough that he cared more for you than for your errors.

“Of course, sire.” David murmurs as he mounts his own horse. You give him a smile when he looks at you, his red eyes gradually acquiring a shine symbolic of knowledge when you lick your lips.

It will be a long journey before you return to the East.

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“Your highness, I don’t think this is such a bright idea…”

“Nonsense. This is perfectly sane of me.” You say with a careless wave of your hand. John looks up at you from his kneeling position, blue eyes darting left and right as though looking for a way of escape. “I merely wish for some company. Is that so wrong?” You quirk an eyebrow when he looks back at you, a flash of guilt in his eyes when he notices that he’s been caught looking around.

“No, of course not,” John murmurs, “but wouldn’t his majesty rather spend time with royalty? I am only a servant.”

“What does it matter? A comrade is a comrade, no matter what rank, size or race.” You smirk wryly at him. “Constantine stayed on his half of the country for so long that I only even realized that he cared when he visited a few days ago. He proves to be a great partner, and I’m certain that you’ll be like him in that aspect.” Your smirk widens as you say, “After all, you’ve managed to surprise a great number of my maids with your…tricks. I’d like to learn more.”

“Err, sire, I apologize, but that’s a family trade, and I wouldn’t want to spoil any surprises.” John ducks his head, though you can see that his lips are quivering from a hidden smile. Aha.

“Hm, mysterious. I like that in a man.” You go back to your blank expression when he jolts in surprise at your statement. “What say you and I make a friendship of sorts?”

“But I-”

“Honestly, if you say anything about being a servant again I will force you to join me on my walks myself.”

“Uhh, I was actually about to ask what his highness would wish me to call him, since he wishes for a friendship.” John looks up at you, blue eyes shining with mischief as he makes himself comfortable on one knee. “We cannot be friends if we are not on equal footing, can we?”

You smirk. “Of course. I’m perfectly all right with the moniker David. What do you wish me to call you in return, friend?”

He grins, buckteeth half-digging into his lower lip as he says, “John. You can call me John, David.”

For a moment, you let slip a real smile. Just once. “John it is, then.”

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“David, David, I promise,” you sob brokenly, “you’re going to be alright. You’re going to be fine. We’re going to be fine. Please, stay with me.”

“I don’t think I can,” he rasps out, his free hand that is not being used by John to keep him up swinging about with his broken sword. He hits two or three people before he coughs out another round of blood, the red liquid trickling down his chin as he looks toward the dark horizon. He laughs hoarsely. “I won’t make it out of this, John.”

“You will,” you insist, “I know you will, because you are my comrade and you’re David, and you are not one to back down. You will not give up on me now.” He growls out loud as he stabs another stumbling soldier in front of him. He swings his sword away to release the soon-to-be corpse on the ground, the anger flashing in his blue eyes as he holds David up with one arm. “Don’t do this to me, David. Please.”

“I’m m-merely stating the truth,” he chokes out before closing his eyes, looking close to serene even with the blood rolling down his face. You stifle another sob as he smiles one of his rare smiles, the kind that he only reserves for you. “You’ll be alright without me. You’re John, after all. Hard-headed brute that you are.”

“Stop it, stop doing this,” you cry out as you surge forward, sword swinging at any obstacles in your way as you try to get David to safety. He needs to live, he needs to spend more of his years with you, it’s not fair. “The other knights are waiting for us, you daft nut. We can’t keep them waiting.”

“I s’pose that means you’ll have to leave me behind-”

“No! No, David, I will not leave you. You know I can’t.” You yell as you ward off another enemy. You fall to your knees once the heavy realization of David being close to death, dangerously close, dawns on you. You choke on a sob.

“It’s going to be fine,” David murmurs as he leans into you, his breath wafting to your ear as you clench your eyes shut. “We’ll meet again, somehow.”

“You promise?” You manage to say even through the tears blurring your sight.

“I swear it on my honor as a knight, John. We’ll see each other again.”

“Alright. Alright.” You whisper as you slowly take away your arm from his back. He grips your hand just before you let go completely, a crooked smile on his face as closes his eyes.

He looks serene sitting there, a small smile on his face as he leans on a wall left from the ruins, his golden hair making a soft halo on his head as his red eyes remain closed. It doesn’t even matter that blood is dripping from his head, his mouth, or his side.

He looks the most peaceful when he’s asleep.

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The sheets are comforting on your naked skin, though with the prohibition of even putting them around you, it’s still quite cold. But you need money to buy your food, to keep living, and being a bit chilled for some time should be fine. You’re not doing anything dangerous, anyway.

“How do you want me to lie down, my good sir?” You question to break the silence. He breaks his trance-like gaze at you (your body, rather) to look up at your face, the serious look on his face disappearing only to be replaced with an awkward grin.

“What you’re doing- yes, that- that’s completely fine. That’s good.” He nods at you with a grin. You stomp on the urge to roll your eyes, instead keeping still as he whips out his canvas and his charcoal. You wonder why it is that people make so much art and admire it even though it held no use except for showing beauty. But that’s how life is, isn’t it? Some things are better left unexplained.

“Your name,” he murmurs with large hands at work, “what is it? I need to put a name on this artwork.”

“David,” you murmur with as little movement as possible. He looks up at you, as though stunned, before going back to his drawing. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, no, not at all,” he murmurs back, “it’s just. It’s as though I’ve known you before, though I can’t place when and where, or how. I surely would have remembered a face like yours.”

“Quite the flatterer, aren’t you, mister?” You barely quirk your lips when you smirk.

“It’s John,” he says swiftly before adding another swiping gesture to his drawing. “My name is John. A plain name, unfit for someone like me, but we all make do with what we get. Though,” he smiles as he looks up at you from the canvas, “it is no flattery if it is true, isn’t that right, David?”

“I am no beauty,” you murmur back.

You almost snort when he replies with a horrified expression on his face. “Surely you jest, my good man. You are one of the most beautiful creatures I’ve seen in a lifetime.”

“And you’re one of the most disturbing artists I’ve seen in a lifetime, complimenting his subject to the point of sheer gracelessness.” You shoot back as you lick your lips. You notice his blue eyes darting to your tongue before going back to the canvas, and you don’t know whether to feel threatened that he’s even looking at you in a manner that is any more than baseless or platonic or to feel proud that you have any charm at all to make an artist swoon.

“I only say what is true, my dear,” John smiles as he adds more swipes of his charcoal to the canvas. “And you are beautiful, even with your red eyes.”

You swallow on a gasp as you realize that he knows. You’ve kept on your blindfold this whole time, how could he have known? “How-”

“I have my ways,” John replies quickly with the free smile still sitting on his face. “Truly though, you have the most magnificent eyes. I’d look at them the entire day if I could.”

You almost choke on nothing when he says that, though you choose to remain silent instead.

No one has ever told you that you were beautiful before.

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“I apologize, your highness. I cannot- this cannot work out. It is impossible.”

“But I love you, David! I don’t see what’s so wrong about any of this,” you argue heatedly, your fists clenched tightly on your sides, “There’s nothing wrong with being in love, I don’t see why you’re reacting to this so badly.”

“You are the prince, the heir to the throne,” Dave hisses as he takes a step back, “I am but a servant, born to follow your every whim yet at the same time, born to ascertain that you do nothing foolish to tarnish your name. This is one of those times, John. It cannot happen.”

“I’m not tarnishing my name at all! I’m only doing what I know is right.”

“Then you have a skewed sense for what is wrong and right, your majesty,” David counters with a scowl on his face. He crosses his arms on his chest when you glare at him. “Please, think of what you are doing. You will regret this in the future if you do not stop acting such.”

“I’m going to regret nothing of what I’ve done.” You huff with arms folded on your chest. “I love you.”

David shakes his head at you, a rueful frown on his lips as he says, “John, you need to have children. Do you think you can sire any children when you are with me, a fellow male?”

“Then we can adopt!” You counter with persistence.

“That’s the most idiotic suggestion I’ve heard from you in a while, your highness. You know well enough that the child needs to be of your blood.”

“Yes, well,” you frown, “I don’t see what’s so wrong with adopting. There are many children out there who are in need of parents and we can actually help one of them with our own hands!”

“Do you honestly want me to debate with you on this? Because, in all truth,” David furrows his eyebrows under his goggles though he quickly eases down the wrinkles in his forehead with a hand, “I have a lot of things I could say against that.”

“I don’t want to argue, David.”

“Then what are we doing?”

“You’re the one who keeps going against what I say!” You cry out. “I don’t like fighting with you, but you make it so difficult for me.”

“I could say the same for you.” David sighs. There’s a tense silence between the two of you and you feel like breaking down, crying your eyes out, but you abruptly find yourself in a warm embrace. You blink teary blue eyes in disbelief when lithe arms wrap themselves around your waist and a hand slides up a bit to pat your head. You accidentally let a tear roll down with one more blink and Dave sighs, looking at you as though you were a child again and he were the elder. “It’ll be fine, John. Just give it time.” He wipes away the tears from your eyes, the softness of his eyes revealed under the glow of your castle.

I don’t understand.

“You’ll understand soon. Someday.” He nods to himself while patting you on the back.

Is there something I’m missing here?

“It’ll be okay.”

He holds you like that for a while, his eyes closed as he leans his forehead into yours. You almost cry at how nice it feels to be this close to him, his arms wrapped around you as he hums a soothing tone to ease your nerves. You nuzzle your face into his shoulder as he rocks you both back and forth, mimicking a cradle in his movements as he softly hums a lullaby.

You realize too late what he means (“It’s going to be okay”) when you find yourself awake at night, alone, and when you try to sneak into David’s chambers, you can’t even find anything to prove his existence in your life in the first place because all of his things are gone and the room is as clean as it was when you’d first discovered it with David.

You never thought he’d actually leave you like this.

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“Well, well, well, what’s a prince like you doing here?” You hum while leaning onto the railings of the balcony, a dagger swinging ‘round your finger as you smile wryly at the blue-eyed boy. You’re no older than him, true, but he’s only a boy to you. A pathetic, blithering, and naïve fool of a boy. You wonder how little boys like him are even fit to be princes.

“I happen to live here.” He quirks a curious brow at you, an amused smile on his face as he comes closer. You don’t mind.

Let the curious cat sniff for a while, as your elder brother would say.

“Of course, your highness,” you murmur, red eyes covered by goggles of a dark tint. “I apologize for intruding on your party.”

“It’s no problem at all, actually,” he says with a growing grin, “the event itself wasn’t as interesting as your interruption. I thank you for that, though that doesn’t mean that I’ll let you steal any of our heirlooms.”

“Certainly, I can understand why that is,” you say, “heirlooms are important. They wouldn’t be guarded as much if they aren’t, after all.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he waves a hand in a careless sort of gesture as he comes closer. “Though, I hope you understand that this means we cannot let you go without further interrogation?”

“I’m afraid that won’t be happening, sire.” You smirk at him. “I have a brother that I must return to, and it is of great magnitude that I report to him about my failure. I’m sure you can understand.”

He laughs, voice rich with boyish youth and energy, “I suppose I can let you go, just this once.”

You’re prepared to make another witty response when his reply finally processes into your mind and you catch yourself gaping, just for a while, before you snap your mouth closed again. “What?”

“I’m letting you go,” he says with a mirthful laugh. “I just came to warn you that the guards are already running up the stairs as we speak. You better hurry.”

Daft bloke. “Hm, you’re more interesting than I thought.” You say, some sort of compliment for the boy who’s being stupid enough to help you get away. “What’s your name?”

“John,” he says with a wide smile. You rise from your crouch on the edge of the balcony, the heels of your feet feeling nothing but air as you prepare to jump. “You are?”

“David,” you murmur. You crack a smile at him before leaning out onto the edge, falling headfirst before grabbing your grappling gun and shooting the hook at a nearby roof. The momentum makes you swing for a bit as you hang from the structure, though you easily catch your breath as you climb up.

You tell your brother about the experience while you clean yourself up, though he doesn’t respond much (excluding his snickering). It’s not that surprising when you’ve gotten used to his silence, actually.

As such, you grab another opportunity to visit the boy prince. He’s standing by the balcony, a dreamy smile on his face until he jolts in awareness at your presence. You’d expected him, at the very most, to act surprised.

But he smiles, expectantly, and holds out a hand. You’re aware that this could signify belittlement, him holding your hand as you jump down from the edge of the balcony onto the cold marble floor, but you don’t really care for social expectations. You’ve long forgotten how it’s like to be in a normal society, anyway.

“Nice to see that you’re still willing to visit me,” he tells you with a wide grin as he releases your hand slowly.

“Cocky, aren’t we? Who’s to say that I didn’t come for the jewelry?”

“Oho, no need to deny it, friend.” He laughs, “You would have taken the other route if that was what you’d hoped to do.”

“Hm. No need in hiding it, then.” You hum as you settle yourself on the balcony railings. “Do you usually expect criminals to come by and visit you on your balcony, though?”

“Of course not, that would be stupid,” he answers immediately. You cock an eyebrow when he pauses in doubt. “You’re the only exception, so far. I hope that you’re the only one. Dad will worry if I keep letting criminals into the house.”

“Indubitably,” you mutter. “How’s life for the little prince?”

“Boring.” He says blankly. “There are too many rules in this castle, and such rules force me to hide my great tricks. A pity.”

“Hm, I’d thought you’d be pleased with your life, little prince,” you say mockingly, “Do you not have all the riches anyone could ask for? Friends that are loyal without a hint of doubt? A family willing to sacrifice everything for your safety?”

“Yes, yes, I am quite lucky in those aspects,” he replies impatiently, “but I lack adventure! It is tedious to keep on living like this.” He looks up at you from his leaning onto the balcony, a shine in his blue eyes as he realizes something. “You can tell me of life outside, David!” He exclaims eagerly.

“It’s…adventurous, or so they’d call it.” You shrug. “Dragons, trolls, unicorns, you name it. Everything lies beyond your castle walls.” You look up into the blue sky as you speak, “Yet safety is in this home of yours, and as such, your father would rather keep you here.”

“I can take care of myself quite fine, thank you.” He bristles, “If only father would let me out, even for a while, I’m certain I can prove that I am not as weak as he thinks I am.”

“Truly? I do not think you are one meant to be creating adventures outside, little prince.” You murmur, “You are much more fit to be here, sitting prettily for all the world to see. A perfect doll.”

The glare he trains on you softens for a moment when he realizes that you mean no harm. “I’m not so perfect as they make me out to be,” he whispers.

And thus, you discover that he adores pranks, baking cakes, playing childish games, running around his garden, feeding their horses, playing the piano, and you realize too late that you’ve already delved in too deep into his life that you cannot get out. It is far too late when you notice that you’re already visiting him every day, his eager smile greeting you as you step onto his balcony. The feeling of his warm hand pressed into your cold one is already embedded into your mind, the toothy smile he greets you with every morning has become a daily routine to come back to, his gradually increasing hugs becoming more and more a part of your life than anything else.

But you won’t let it be too late. You promised your brother that you’d protect him, and that you wouldn’t leave him for petty things like idiot princes and weak ladies of the court. You promised, and you never break your word. Not when it comes to him.

John gives you a pocket watch on the day of your seventeenth birthday, a soft smile on his face as he places it in your hand. You furrow your eyebrows at the object and he laughs, explaining, “It’s a heirloom, something grandfather passed down onto me when my twelfth birthday came.”  

“Why are you handing this to me?”

“Because I trust you,” he says simply. The smile on his face is still there, unmoving, and you stifle a choked up laugh. You can tell that this thing, this old thing ticking in your hand is very important to him, but he is giving it to you anyway.

“I can’t accept this.”

“Of course you can! I gave it to you.”

Silence. You look down at the silver object, eyeing the intricate designs on it as you turn it over. This must cost a fortune because of the embedded emeralds and diamonds on it. If you sell it, you can surely pay the rent for a whole five years in time. Maybe even more, merely because of the gems attached to the antique thing.  You wouldn’t have to scavenge for food with your elder brother again.

“Thank you,” you murmur instead. He only smiles, gives you a brief hug, before letting go and watching you take another false fall into the dark night.

Brother looks at you without his goggles when you show the heirloom to him, his red eyes filling you with guilt and sickness as you are reminded that you were never supposed to befriend that little prince in the first place. “We could sell it,” you say weakly.

“You can’t sell it.” He says. It’s already too important to you.

“Why the bloody hell not? It could keep us going for a lifetime, we won’t have to work anymore.” I can handle this.

“Getting lazy, aren’t we?” You can’t.

“Only practical, brother.” I’ll prove you wrong.

“We’ll see, little brother. We’ll see."

You better not disappoint me this time.

And so, you lessen your visits to the blue-eyed prince. Your heart aches at the loss of your only other friend, but it doesn’t matter. Big brother is more important. Always.

The news comes that his highness is celebrating his twenty-first birthday in the grand castle. Brother looks up at you when he hears it, the challenge clear in the firm line of his mouth as you stand behind him.

Just for a moment of rebellion, of freedom, you visit John when evening comes. He is surprised, blue eyes wide under square-framed glasses, and you smirk wryly. You never thought you’d see the day that he’d be surprised. But you’re surprised just as easily when you stumble back from the impact of his jump into your arms, lithe arms wrapping around your waist as you feel tears seeping into your clothes.

“I-I never thought you’d come back,” he whimpers pathetically with his face pressed into your shoulder. You don’t bother to pat him on the back, because that would be reminiscent of the old days. You’ve already gotten over that point of your life, and you don’t want to go back. Brother is still waiting for you at home.

“Yes, of course,” you lie smoothly with a small smile, “and I’ve gotten you a present.”

“Really?” He sniffles with a crooked grin, “I thought you were the present.”

“As blatantly narcissistic that would be, no, that’s not my present.”

You pull him back for a moment, letting him see red eyes under dark-tinted goggles. He opens his mouth to say something, you’re certain that it has something to do with another wretched excuse of a joke, but you silence him just as he tries. With your mouth.

You suppose that it’s not the funniest prank, but his terror will be the sweetest thing.

He gasps into the kiss as you press your lips harder into his, your tongue daring to push through his lips as you taste the cavern that is his mouth. There’s a faint taste of oranges and lemons when you lick against his tongue, though it’s gone as the wind when you pull back. You notice then that his hands, his nimble piano-hands, are gripping tightly onto your arms as he clenches his eyes wide shut.

“Time to open your eyes, darling,” you coo while caressing his cheek with the back of your hand. “Surprise is over.”

Thick eyelashes flutter on peach-colored skin as blue eyes look into red. You smirk crookedly at the knowledge that it is his first time to be kissed in such a way, as proven clearly by the amateur motions he made against your lips. You suppose you can say that you’ve ruined him.

“David, what was…what was that for?”

“My birthday present,” you say, “was a promise to surprise you. Did it work?”

He gapes at you like a fish out of water for seconds, seconds turn into minutes, and you sigh. “Yes,” he murmurs finally and you turn your head to look more properly at him, “yes, it did. But, of all things…”

You tilt your head to the side and lean close, pressing another kiss (a more chaste one) to his lips. He gasps still but does not pull away. “Why? Is it not the most surprising of all things that one can ever experience? Imagine that,” you laugh dryly, “a man kissing his comrade with intentions of surprise and prankster wiles! Brilliant yet idiotic, wouldn’t you think? Yet it is so comical when you hear of it from another’s mouth!”

He is silent the whole time, lower lip trembling even as he bites down with his buckteeth. You wonder if he’ll cry any time soon. Wouldn’t that be a bit odd? A prince crying merely because of a surprise from his comrade. Surely his pride is full and well even with your jesting?

Yet, before you can make another jest at him, you find your mouth covered with his once more. You didn’t even move from your place this time.

He’s the one who initiates it, this time. He’s the one wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he pulls you close, tilting his head to the side to get as much from the kiss as he can. You’re the one left to struggle, which isn’t a very hard task in itself.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” You spit out just as you manage to push him away. He looks at you with those wide blue eyes again, chewing at your heart with guilt and anger as he whimpers.

“I was- I thought-”

“What? What the hell were you thinking, little prince?” You’d spit on the marble floor right now if you didn’t give much of a damn for the nice tiles. It just so happens that you do. “Jokes of the baseless kind are my forte, not yours. You have your own damn style, you don’t need to imitate me.”

“I wasn’t imitating you, David,” he says in a rush, looking absolutely wretched with his teary eyes and trembling lips, “I thought…I thought you wanted this, this thing.”

“Well, what a fool of me to have made you think so!” You say. “I apologize for my bothering you, good prince. I assure you, I will not be visiting again. Such a horrible thing it is, to have convinced you of thinking me unrighteous. Farewell.” You speak in a rush as you usually do when you’re in a panicking mode.

You ignore his pleads (“wait, don’t go!”)  as you jump off, the hook of your grappling gun hanging onto a stranger’s roof while you swing away. Brother hears no words from you when you return, nor does he question you when you remain in your room for the remainder of the day and the day after that.

When John is found dead a year later on his balcony, a gaping wound on his chest reminiscent to that of a sword wound, no one knows who the culprit is. All of the kingdom mourns and wears black, weeping in sorrow as their favored prince passes on.

You only watch from the window of your shabbily-made tree fort, your Brother beside you as you try to forget the smile on John’s face just as you’d pierced one of your swords into peach-colored skin.

“I love you,” he had said. You wonder if it were a lie, and if it were not, if he had been feeling as such whilst you had been lonely and pining for your only friend in your dim-lighted room.

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You’re walking through London with a limp in your step, your black cane the only support you have as you happily trek towards your home. People bustle about in imitation of little chimps all lurking about for a single piece of fruit, and you try not to snicker when you imagine them as such.

“What might be so funny, my good man?” Your friend, a handsome lad with blonde hair and red eyes, asks. You grin widely at him in reply.

“Oh, nothing at all,” you hum as you bump your shoulder with his, “I was merely comparing all of these busy people with monkeys.”

“Fascinating,” he drawls with a wry smirk. “The things you come up with are one of a kind, John.”

“I might as well tell you the same thing, David.” You smile widely. “You’re quite fond of those porcelain dolls, are you not? They’re a bit disturbing when one is with them in the same room for hours on end, but I suppose I cannot fault you for having such interests for your own.”

“Such a tactless mouth you have, friend,” he tuts as he walks beside you. “You may get in trouble one day because of that.”

“Ah, but I always have you to protect me, don’t I?” You tease with a grin.

“Yes, yes, ironic as it may be that you are the one holding my weaponry and I yours,” he murmurs, “one must not be too careful.”

You nod, silenced as a carriage passes by you with a loud and crackling sound and a whinny of a horse. You glance beside you for a moment at red eyes, yet you are too late in looking away when David smirks at you from the corner of your eye. You smile sheepishly in response and look forward again, though you cannot remove the likeness of David’s ruby eyes from your mind.

You realize in the back of your mind, thrice or more [again and again it occurs, memories of a past that you cannot fully recall], the reminder that you are not alone,

and you never will be, so long as red eyes still clash with blue.

Chapter Text

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] --

TG: bro
TG: earth to the eggman earth to the eggman bro are you there
TG: this is strider calling from the moon
TG: mayday mayday the planes about to crash and times a-ticking
TG: tick tock tick tock
TG: im dead
EB: geez bro, i just came from the shower!
EB: where the hell are you, anyway? why are you out so early?
TG: wrong
TG: i was out at the club the whole night remember
TG: got out while you were asleep and shit
TG: also i got us some breakfast from stardough
TG: awesome shit right there man
EB: oh, ok! i forgot about that, sorry. how did it go?
TG: we all know i made the house rock from dusk till dawn bro
TG: no questions asked
EB: ehehe, of course! you are the best dj, dave.
EB: it is you.
TG: thanks
TG: but yeah
TG: i got some bad news
TG: sort of
EB: huh? what is it?
EB: it’s not that bad, is it?
EB: dave, are you ok??
TG: jegus calm your tits bro i am ok
TG: i just
TG: maybe
TG: totaled the bike
TG: yeah
EB: oh gosh.
EB: dave, you suck.
TG: wait what now
TG: why
EB: how’d you break it, anyway? you’re not hurt, are you?
TG: nah im ok
TG: scrapes here and there but that aint bad compared to the things i got from strifes with bro
TG: i sort of crashed into a wall last night while i was going out
TG: bartender had to take me back in and nurse me back to health etc etc
TG: i now owe him
TG: and it sucks
EB: yes, dave, we all know how much you hate owing people.
EB: but you really need to stop drinking while driving!
TG: huh
TG: can riding a bike be even considered driving
TG: also i wasnt drinking
TG: i was already drunk
TG: so ha
EB: very mature, dave!
EB: at least you’re not hurt that bad, though. you need to be more careful!
TG: of course mother
TG: whatever you say
EB: pfft, whatever, dave!
EB: terezi’s going to pester you, just so you know. she told me about it last night.
TG: couldnt wait for the strider to get back home
TG: all these chicks need to stop macking on me jegus
TG: i cant even concentrate on my fucking beats
EB: welp, that’s what happens when you’re a coolkid!
TG: wow egbert
TG: when did i last hear anyone say that word
TG: it now sounds like something a tool would say
EB: because you were such a nice kid when you were little, dave.
TG: shut up
TG: those days are over
TG: we are now very close to being adults
TG: and as almost-adults i hereby make it law that no one is allowed to ever bring my douchebaggy shit up ever again
TG: or else i will throttle whosoever tries to offend that law
EB: you are being soooooooo defensive right now, dave!
EB: it is a sign that you are touchy with this subject!
TG: touchy
TG: also what the fuck really
TG: do you have to keep copying the eight thing with vriska
TG: its annoying as fuck
EB: well soooooooorry!
EB: i think it is pretty cool.
TG: you think anything is cool
TG: you are very hard to not amaze
TG: you are a damn paradigm of a kid who will never grow up
TG: like fucking peter pan
EB: harhar, dave, very funny!
EB: but seriously, should i pick you up?
EB: where are you, anyway?
TG: no need my good man
TG: i am already under your window
TG: cocked and ready to serenade you with how do i live
TG: because everyone and their mothers know that that is your favorite song ever
EB: ffft, ok! get up here quickly before the shower malfunctions again!
TG: i hate that fucking thing
TG: i just wanted to say that it sucks as bad as you do when you try to be not-scared of asking a girl out
EB: hey, i thought we’d agreed to never bring that up again!
TG: whoops
TG: fingers slipped
TG: sorry man
TG: but yeah i think you get my point
EB: yes, your point is already very clear, dave!
EB: and stop trying to pretend that you don’t have a key!

-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --

You snort.

You swiftly bring your keys out and unlock the door, opening it completely with your foot as you step inside. John turns from his place on the couch, arms crossing and leaning onto the top of the couch as he grins at you. You stifle the urge to throw a shoe at him. “Here’s your food, your majesty,” you murmur as you hand him the plastic bag that had been hanging off of your wrist.

“Thanks, Dave! I got the water ready for you while you were busy being nostalgic,” John says with a teasing grin. He’s still drying his hair with a towel when you hand him the food.

“Thanks darlin’. I knew there was a reason why you’re my wife. Nice little thing you are,” you quip as you come across the room, shedding your shirt and pants and throwing them across the top of the couch until you were only left in your boxers.

John snorts. “Why, you’re so obscene, stripping down in front of your innocent wife! What would Rose think?”

“I want to get in your pants.”

John jolts, a red color spreading on his cheeks. You stifle a laugh. “That’s what she’d think I’d say. Don’t be too hopeful, man, I’m reserving my anal virginity for someone who will truly love me.”

“Asshol- wait, does this mean you were expecting me to top? Oh gosh, Dave, I never knew,” John laughs. “Well, just know I’ll be very gentle!”

“Contrary to what your ex-girlfriends have said,” you retort. You stay for a while, just for a little while, to hear John’s laugh. It’s weird, too deep from what you’d expect to come from John’s mouth, but it’s John, nonetheless.

Anything that’s John is something you’re inexplicably attracted to.

You slip into the bathroom once you’ve gotten away, John’s laughter from the living room slowly fading into silence. You strip yourself of your boxers and get into the bathtub as soon as you’re naked; though you quickly reach for the phone in your pocket before you make yourself comfortable in your place. You settle into the bathtub once you find it, the water reaching to the bottom of your chest and keeping your lower regions warm.

You open pesterchum.

-- gallowsCallibrator [GC] began trolling turntechGodhead [TG]--

GC: H3Y
GC: H3Y
GC: D4V1D STR1D3R
GC: STOP TRY1NG TO PR3T3ND TH4T YOUR3 NOT ONLIN3
GC: I CAN T4ST3 YOU HOLD1NG YOUR PHON3 OV3R H3R3
TG: sup
GC: F1N4LLY H3 SP34KS
GC: YOUR T3XT 1S D3L1C1OUS 4S 4LW4YS
TG: yes yes i know
TG: but pray tell what is your purpose for bothering me now
TG: from my mindless indulgence of this bathwater
GC: 1 W1LL CUT TO TH3 CH4S3 STR1D3R
GC: WHY H4V3NT YOU TOLD H1M Y3T
GC: 1 THOUGHT W3 4LR34DY 4GR33D ON TH1S
TG: what
GC: DONT YOU WH4T M3 YOUNG M4N
GC: YOU W3R3 SUPPOS3D TO T3LL TH3 W33N13 PUSHOV3R 4BOUT YOUR FLUSH3D F33L1NGS FOR H1M
GC: Y3ST3RDAY
GC: WH3N YOU W3R3 ST1LL DRUNK OFF YOUR W1TS
TG: yes rez that is a totally good idea
TG: go tell your bestfriend that you have a thing for him whilst drunk
TG: then wake up with a raging hangover later while dying from embarrassment and pain
TG: i can see now why you are one of my favorite trolls
GC: YOUR 4PPR3C14T1ON OF M3 NOTW1THST4ND1NG
GC: TH4T W4S WH4T YOUD 4GR33D UPON
GC: NO ON3 3V3R BR34KS 4N O4TH W1TH T3R3Z1 PYROP3
GC: W1THOUT SUFF3R1NG FOR 1T
TG: i know
TG: its just hard ok
TG: i got stoned as fuck yesterday
TG: but i couldnt get myself to talk to him
TG: because im a fucking coward
GC: TH4TS SOM3TH1NG W3 N33D TO CH4NG3
GC: YOU C4NT K33P ON LY1NG TO H1M L1K3 TH1S
GC: B3S1D3S
GC: D1DNT YOU T3LL M3 TH4T YOU 4LR34DY W4NT3D TO G3T 1T OV3R W1TH
TG: yes
TG: yes i did
TG: tell me what the fuck im supposed to do when ive got all these feelings
TG: wrapped up in a huge ball of utter sappiness and kitten yarn
TG: “oh john i am so flushed for you lets get married right now and have manbabies that well call cameron and casey and for special effect what do you say we run off into the sunset”
TG: egbert will kill me
GC: NOT B3FOR3 1 K1LL YOU
GC: FOR B31NG 4 P4TH3T1C 3XCUS3 FOR 4 COOLK1D
TG: i told you we are already over that shit
TG: stop reminding me that i was a tool as a kid
GC: OH
GC: DO3S TH1S M34N YOUV3 STOPP3D B31NG 4 TOOL?
GC: 1 N3V3R NOT1C3D UND3R THE CH3RRY FONT OF 3NDL3SS S4RC4SM
TG: i love you
TG: thank you for all the shitty advice you give me
TG: i might as well be not-bisexual and just marry you
TG: but these long distance relationships do not work for me
TG: sorry babe
GC: TH4TS OK4Y D4V3
GC: W3 BOTH KNOW TH4T TH3 FL1NG YOUR3 GO1NG TO H4V3 W1TH JOHN IS JUST YOUR W4Y OF T3LL1NG M3 TH4T YOU LOV3 M3
GC: BUT 1 4LR34DY H4V3 K4RK4T
GC: YOUR3 TOO L4T3 STR1D3R
GC: 4POLOG13S FOR NOT G1V1NG YOU TH4T N3WSFL4SH 34RL13R ON
TG: its ok
TG: i knew youd find someone else eventually
TG: one should never make a lady wait too long
GC: 1 4M GL4D YOU UND3RST4ND
GC: 4NYW4Y
GC: 1 SUGG3ST YOU T3LL H1M 4BOUT 1T 4FT3R YOU F1N1SH YOUR B4TH
GC: TH4T W4Y
GC: 1F H3 DO3SNT R3C1PROC4T3
GC: YOU C4N 34S1LY RUN 4W4Y L1K3 TH3 COW4RD TH4T YOU 4R3
TG: thank you for that fulfilling boost to my ego terezi
TG: you really know how to make a brother feel better
GC: NO PROBL3M
GC: BUT
GC: 1N 4LL HON3STY?
TG: what
GC: 1 DONT TH1NK YOU H4V3 MUCH TO WORRY ABOUT WITH JOHN
GC: H3S TOO MUCH OF 4 N1C3 K1D TO 4CTU4LLY R3J3CT YOU 1N TH3 W4Y TH4T YOUD 3XP3CT
GC: 4ND
GC: 1N MY OP1N1ON
GC: YOU WONT B3 WORRY1NG 4BOUT 4 LOT OF TH1NGS 1N G3N3R4L WH3N YOU F1N4LLY T3LL H1M
TG: ok ill pretend i understood that
TG: but seriously
TG: thanks
GC: 1 KNOW
GC: H4V3 FUN W1TH T3LL1NG H1M!
TG: yeah yeah
TG: i will
GC: >:]

--gallowsCallibrator [GC] ceased trolling turntechGodhead [TG]--

You sigh, reaching out to leave your phone on top of the toilet cover. You slump back into the bathtub as soon as you take your hand back.

This entire thing is stupid. You don’t even know why you’re blowing it out of proportion. You just have to tell him that you like him, he doesn’t have to reciprocate, I can give you some space if you want, then end it. That should be okay.

You’ve already endured an almost-Armageddon. You should be able to survive a little heartbreak. It’s not like it’s hard, when you’ve already had your heart broken. Numerous times, because John Egbert is a flirty bastard who gets to have two girlfriends per week. But it’s not like you’re innocent. You’re worse than him in that case, actually. John actually has feelings, he treats people right; unlike you, you selfish prick of a teen who sleeps around like it’s a whole time job that you just cannot quit at.

John doesn’t even know, most of the time. He thinks that you’re out at a dj-ing job when in reality you’re taking another lady home and flirting her out of her knickers. You only work part-time as an actual DJ, unlike what you’ve been telling him.

You’ve tried forgetting about it, this thing you have for him. You’ve tried sleeping around with a few men before, and it was, just to say, very pleasurable. Intensely pleasurable. You don’t even want to think about John in that way for as long as you can help it. It felt like you were dirtying him, ruining him, just by trying to think of him in any way more than platonic.

It’s stupid. Really, really stupid.

(You don’t even know why you think about it. About being with him until you got old, drinking hot chocolate with him when winter comes and just sitting there with the comfort of knowing that neither of you will leave each other, about hugging him whenever he’s the one who needs your help, about him kissing you on the forehead because you’ve been such an idiot for not listening to him in the first place, about just being there with him. You want to spend your life with him, for as much as you can.)

You get out of the tub once you realize that the water’s getting cold, only soaping yourself up for a little moment before washing it down with a shower of water. You don’t bother to put on a show for Terezi now. It’s already gotten boring once you realize that you’ve been doing it for far too long, anyway. 

You dry yourself off with a smaller towel while letting the larger one hang off of your waist for cover. You sneak a peek at him eating before scurrying into you room and getting dressed as quickly as you can in your usual cardigans and pants. You approach John as soon as you manage to dry yourself from the droplets of water in your hair. “Wasn’t Katie supposed to visit you this morning? I vaguely remember her telling me that she was gonna take you out for breakfast. Hm. I shouldn’t have gotten you that hot choco and donut, huh.” You say, face bare without your shades covering half of it.

“What, no!” John makes a face as he holds his cup to his chest. “I am very hungry and would prefer you not taking away my source of energy.”

“You’re such a derp. Where is she?”

“Oh. Uh.” John grins awkwardly, hand reaching back to his nape as it usually does when he’s nervous. “We broke up? Sort of. Yeah.”

“Again? Jesus, John, will you never find satisfaction in one lady? But seriously,” your accusing tone levels down to a blank one swiftly, “what happened, man? Who did the dumping?”

“She did, this time.” He shrugs. “She told me that I still wasn’t done sorting things out, and, well, it would be better off if I realized things without her being a distraction? That’s what she told me.”

“Huh. Another flighty broad. You sure that you and Rose aren’t gonna get together again?”

“What, dude no.” John scrunches up his nose and pouts at you. “We are already over that phase of our life, let us not bring it up again. Besides, we all know that Rose isn’t exactly straight!”

“Yeah, too bad for you.” You snicker as you finish drying your hair. “Maybe you turned her off so much that she turned lesbian.”

“Asshole, I am not that bad!” John huffs with arms crossed on his chest. “I make a fine gentleman, Dave.”

“Proof.”

“Go on a date with me.”

“…what.”

John rises up, standing to your height with his arms still crossed on his chest and a determined look on his face. “Go on a date with me if you’re so adamant to prove me wrong!”

You make to joke, “Whoa whoa dude, I don’t go for the homo stuff-”

“Oh come off it, Dave, I already know that you’ve been playing around at night when you thought I was asleep.”

Holy shit. “What.”

“I’m not as innocent as you people think I am, you know! And I’m not dumb.” He taps his foot on the floor, a quirked eyebrow on his face. “I know where you’ve been going at night, on the days that you’re not supposed to work. And it’s not just women that you play with, Dave. I’ve heard it from Karkat and the others. Pretty hard not to find out when you have alien friends who are watching your every move.” The firm line of his mouth transforms into a sly grin. “And there’s one other secret I know.”

You swallow. “What, that I am a flaming homo and I have a thing for you?”

His eyes narrow into slits with the Cheshire grin on his face. “Exactly.”

“Pfft, man, you shouldn’t believe all of the shit that you hear, especially when it’s from Serket.”

“Who said it was from Vriska?” John takes a step close, and you step back. “Another birdie told me, one with gray font.”

“Karkat is a douchebag who likes to mess with your head.” Another step forward, another step back. “Dude, stop trying to make me the mouse here. Not cool.”

He grins with all teeth, his whole body looking ready to pounce. You try not to sweat in nervousness too much. “Aww, is the little mousie scared? It’s okay, I’ll be very gentle.”

“Fine, fine, you win this time,” you raise your hands up in surrender, “you have me thoroughly surrounded, officer. I give up.”

“Good.” You almost jolt when you find that John is already in your face, the mischievous smile still on his face as he wraps supple arms around your shoulders. “You’ve been very bad, Dave. I think it’s time that I punish you.”

You open your mouth to make an acidic remark (“holy shit that’s not even close to funny dude”) but he beats you to it, his lips suddenly covering yours to silence you. You grunt at the abruptness of it, though John still doesn’t pull away. He pushes forward instead, angling his head to the right as he licks at your lips. You open your mouth in compliance, red eyes watching his clenched blue ones as he moves against you. Your arms, which are getting really tired from hanging in the air, fall onto the curve of John’s waist as he moans softly into the kiss. You close your eyes gradually, nostrils flaring as you try to breathe more air in. It’s sort of hard when you’re still getting a mouthful of Egbert at the moment.

You’re not aware of the time when he finally pulls away, his eyes half-lidded with his mouth grinning at you. You’re tempted to just wipe it off again with another kiss.

“For a ninja, you sure are slow, Dave.” He says as he lets his arms hang on your shoulders.  Your fingers stroke and slide until they reach under John’s shirt and play teasing touches on his skin. You can tell that he’s barely stifling a shudder.

(John’s the one who initiates it, this time. He’s the one wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he pulls you close, tilting his head to the side to get as much from the kiss as he can. You’re the one left to struggle, which isn’t a very hard task in itself. He’s only a boy prince, after all.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” You spit out.)

You jolt in surprise at the memory flashing in your mind. You try to pull away,

(“You’re the one who keeps going against what I say!” John cries out, “I don’t like fighting with you, but you make it so difficult for me.”)

red eyes going wide as unbidden memories of another life scratch and claw at you and remind you,

(“I apologize, your highness. I cannot- this cannot work out. It is impossible.”)

you were always, always,

(“It’ll be okay.”)

hurting him.

“Dave?”

You look at him with wide eyes, noticing how calm he is despite your sudden spell of anxiety. Okay, okay, calm down. That was just…that wasn’t real. Anything you remember, those memories that seem so real, they aren’t what they seem. They can’t be real. You’d remember, you’d remember clearly if they were.

(Your vision of John, blue eyes wide in confusion and buckteeth digging into his lower lip, phase out for a moment and instead you see wide blue eyes puffy and teary and mouth trembling and he’s pleading, asking you, “Please, don’t go.”)

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself as John comes back to you, his hands going to your arms to give you some sense of strength, “fuck, John. What the hell. I’m going crazy.”

“No, you’re not,” he murmurs as he slowly pulls you in, his hands that were on your arms slipping underneath them until they’re wrapped around the middle of your back. You try to move your arms to wrap around him, but they remain hanging uselessly on your side. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck before pressing his cheek into the smooth curve of your shoulder. “You’re not crazy. Because if you are, then that must mean that I am too.” He turns so that he’s facing you, blue eyes looking up into red. “Am I crazy, Dave?”

“No, no,” you mumble as you reach up, trembling hands moving to grip onto John’s shoulders. “you’re not. Crazy. I know you’re not.” You laugh hoarsely, one of your hands reaching up even more to tangle in black locks. “Where the fuck is all of this shit coming from, man? You just broke up with your girl, why the fuck are you coming on to me so suddenly?”

John hides his face in your shirt for a while and there is silence, a comfortable kind of silence that you wouldn’t mind spending hours in forever (if only because of the knowledge that John is spending that moment of silence with you), before he speaks, “You’re not the only one who’s been pining for a while, Dave. But,” he turns his head up and smiles; you manage to look at him with a small tilt of your head, “I guess you got a head start. A bit unfair, if you ask me.”

You choke on a laugh. “Why all the women then?”

“Why all of the sleeping around?”

You cock your head back and stare at the ceiling for a moment, letting John nuzzle some warmth into your shoulder as you remember. You’d done some sleeping around to forget, for a moment, what it was like to feel a heart-crushing and stomach-twisting crush for your best bro. You’d done it all to remember [falsely, only for a little while] that there were others out there, others who’d want to take you and claim as you theirs. That you can’t possibly be alone without John.

Of course you weren’t. John was never the center of your world. Bro was, for most years of your life, but that was over with. You respect him, treat him as the mentor that he has always been, and he treats you with just the same amount of respect. John only started being there when you were ten. (You try to forget with a burning passion the sort of love you had for your brother then, the obsession you held on becoming like him and earning his admiration.) John couldn’t be with you forever. (Though you wish it would be so.)

“Point.” You murmur finally as you press your cheek into his temple. He laughs lowly. “Does this mean that we’re a thing now?”

“That depends,” he murmurs when he turns his head back to nuzzle into your neck, “if you’re willing to endure some hand-holding, and totally romantic Egbertian dates.”

“That shit needs to get patented. No other person on the planet could pull off singing How Do I Live in a horrible suit with an equally terrible guitar solo.”

“You wound me, Dave,” he laughs into your shirt with hands gripping onto your back, “does this mean you don’t want me to serenade you? It has been said that I have a really amazing voice.”

“I know. I was there.” You snicker just in time with his laugh. “But no, I don’t think I’d mind being serenaded. I might even play you a beat or two in exchange. Fair’s fair, after all.”

“Mm, that would be nice.” He murmurs. You make circular motions with your fingers on his back, unconsciously soothing him when you sigh.

“This is the weirdest morning I’ve had so far, not counting that one when I’d woke up with you wearing a reindeer costume.”

“Bluh, those are things ought to be left forgotten, man. Stop bringing that shit up.” He groans into your shoulder. “But is this morning a good weird or bad weird? Because I think I’ll feel bad if it’s the latter.”

“It’s a good one, as far as I can tell,” you say, “though surprising. I mean, I was expecting this day to be full of me crying my broken heart out because you’d dumped me. ‘pparently not.”

“I’m not that cruel.” John says with an amused/disapproving smile, “But you know what?”

“No, what?” You question with a quirked brow.

“You need to stop hurting yourself.”

You jolt subtly at the notion, red eyes darting down to look at solemn blue ones.

“It’s nice and all that you know your own faults, but it’s a different matter entirely if you keep pitying yourself over it. What’s done is done, the past is something you don’t need to think about anymore.” He smiles, slipping his arms out from under yours to wrap them around your shoulders instead. He presses a quick peck on your lips and you blink. “I want you to be happy with me, you know. I don’t like watching you walking around and moping.”

“I don’t mope,” you murmur sullenly. He laughs.

“Of course not, Dave. You just sulk.” He chirps with a grin. You roll your eyes. “But that’s ok! I love you just the way you are.”

“You would.” You say with a crooked sort of smile. “But same goes for me. Doesn’t really matter to me if you’re lame or nerdy.” You laugh at his complaints, “All that matters is you’re John, my best friend, and, hopefully, someone I’ll call my boyfriend.”

He proves that a grin can be widened with a few inches of teeth. “Aww, Dave, you are so cute!”

“Not cute.”

“N’aww, totally cute,” he coos with a wide grin.

“Ffft, whatever.” You grunt. “Guess this means I- we’ve successfully fucked up fate’s plans. Isn’t there some shit called karma?”

“Yeah, well,” John huffs with a determined gleam in his eyes as he leans his forehead into yours, “I rather like you here and not dead, Dave. And I want to keep it that way for as long as I can.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re an impressionable doofus before? Because you are.”

John laughs. “Have I ever told you how I’m so in love you? Because I am.”

Silence. Until,

“I love you too, dumbass.”

Guess this means you’ll have to thwart fate’s justice system some more. (Sorry for that, Pyrope.)