Work Text:
You’re sitting at your desk desperately trying not to fall asleep. Dave’s over at your place and you had just finished watching a movie a little bit ago. Now, he’s rustling around in his bag in the corner of your room while you lay your head on your arms, crushing your glasses into your face. If you were paying any attention to your surroundings, you would notice Dave has been messing with his bag for multiple minutes now. Of course, you aren’t. Your only focus is pulling your eyelids apart and heaving your head up onto one hand. You would also notice how quiet he has been since he’s gone to his bag, how he’s getting up now with something in hand and walking toward you. You still aren’t paying attention, though. Not until-
“Wake up, dude. Check out what I got my hands on.” He jostles your shoulder as he speaks, startling you in a way you totally play off. You look over, with narrowed eyes and no energy left for whatever ridiculous thing he brought to your house, and visibly startle again at the fifth of vodka he’s waving in your face.
“How did you even-”
“What can I say, a Strider has his ways.” He cuts you off, “Look, it's flavored so even your pussy ass can handle it.” He drops the bottle into your hands and, sure enough, it’s king cake flavored. You wonder how that could even taste remotely good.
“I’m not a pussy! I have a sensitive palate! Something you would never understand, I swear you shovel straight garbage down your throat…” You say incredulously while turning the bottle over in your hands.“Jesus! 60 proof! You know I don’t drink, right? It’s like you want to kill me!”
“Yes, I’m perfectly aware of your prudish habits.” He turns to the side, a slight change in expression beneath layers of darkened plastic and stoicism, something only you would pick up on, “I’m not sayin’ we have to drink or anything, just thought I’d offer.”
“No, I think that could be fun, I guess.” You try to reassure him, passing the bottle back, “I’m a bit nervous but out of everyone, you’re the person I would want to get drunk with the first time, Dave.” You leave out the parts about how you trust him even more than you trust yourself sometimes and you could do just about anything with him and find it fun. You figure he would not appreciate you dumping that on him right now.
“Oh, sure, cool,” He takes the bottle from your hands, prying open the screw top, “I totally thought you’d want to, that was completely expected.” You roll your eyes at his sarcasm but choose not to comment on it.
“So, do we need, like, shot glasses or something?”
=====>
Some combination of alcohol and Dave has got you feeling funny. All loose limbed and easy. You press against his side, slumping into the space that he usually keeps well guarded. He's so warm, it's like your body has never actually produced its own heat, it’s like you need him to survive. Your face is against his neck, nose jammed into the underside of his jaw. You breathe out with your mouth occasionally because you like how he shivers when the warm air hits his neck. He's got an arm wrapped around you, hand squeezing your waist as he talks.
And talk he does. You don't think you've said anything since your second shot, not that you mind. You definitely stopped listening after your third. You’re too busy trying to get as close as you can to him and watching the way he reacts to your movements. You don't think he minds much either that you haven't been paying attention to his monologue about, from what you can tell, at least five different topics at the same time. That is until he's grabbing your face, wrenching you from his neck, and forcing eye contact.
He pauses too long before he says, “Joooohnnn, you are not listening. I can tell.” His speech is surprisingly coherent other than the way he mangles your name to be annoying. Oh, he’s still talking.
“Don’t you realize how important everything I say is.” His fingers fidget against your cheeks as he talks, “I mean, this is seriously riveting stuff, dude, like revolutionary ideas really you should be taking notes or someth-”
Free from all of your regular inhibitions, you have no problem pulling his face to yours as soon as the thought comes to you. You really aren't thinking much at all anymore, just that you need to be closer. So you cradle Dave’s jaw, the pads on your fingers catching the edge of the bone, and drag him in.
You press, not graze, not crash, press your lips against his, angled slightly so your faces can be almost flush. Dave’s somehow even warmer than before, he's pure flame against you and all you can think is closer closer closer.
You separate from him to catch your breath, leaning your forehead against his. He's panting and his normal mask of vaguely ironic apathy has completely fallen away. It's strange to see him so open, vulnerable looking. It makes you feel special, like you're the only one who gets to see him this way.
“I guess I was distracted,” You murmur against his lips and lean back in. You move the hand on his face up to embed it in the hair at the back of his head to crush him closer. This seems to wake him up and he finally kisses back, moving his hands to hold the front of your shirt. You tug his hair and he gasps again. This time you’re ready for it and you part your lips too, tasting the inside of his mouth. He shudders and holds onto you so tight, pulling your body into his. You can't get over how warm he is and how, past the stinging of vodka, he tastes like smoke and something sweet, cinnamon, maybe.
He’s pulling you so close, you figure he must also be feeling this insatiable need to be closer. It’s so all-consuming and intense, it must be mutual. Moving both hands to his shoulders for leverage, you straddle his lap and lean back into him so you’re chest to chest, all while keeping your mouth on his, of course. He gasps in surprise and moves his hands to rest more comfortably on your hips.
Dave pulls away and manages to speak between breaths, “John, I-”
You cut him off by kissing him again, surely, whatever he wants to say can wait. He leans in, too, for a moment. Then, he’s pushing you back with a hand on your chest.
“John, wait, this isn’t- I’m not- You aren’t thinkin’ right now.” Dave says. It’s hard to focus on what he’s saying when he looks so flushed and his hair is messed up in the best way. You try to anyway.
“I am doing so much thinking right now, Dave,” You try so desperately to not slur your words, you think you are almost successful, “mostly about your lips.”
“I’m serious, you don’t want me like that.” He’s leaning away now and his hands aren’t on you anymore.
“What are you talking about? I’m literally on your lap, Dave.”
“I’m talkin’ about how you are fully straight! You’ve told me yourself, multiple times. Like, it’s cool if you want to figure yourself out or experiment or whatever, but I am not that. I can’t- I’m not- John, I-” Dave gets to a point in cutting himself off where he stops talking completely. After a heaving breath, he continues, “John, I can’t do stuff like this with no strings attached. There are just so many strings.”
Oh.
Oh.
Dave thinks you are so drunk, you are making out with the nearest living thing.
Dave thinks you aren’t completely and embarrassingly in love with him.
Dave thinks-
“Dave.” You grab his face and you can just tell he isn’t looking at you. You pull his sunglasses off.
“John, hey-”
“Dave.” He’s looking now. His eyes are wide, so dilated that there is only a ring of bright red, and he’s looking right into yours. “Dave, there is no possible way you don’t know how in love I am. With you.”
Dave has the audacity to look shocked. He doesn’t say anything, though, just gapes at you like he forgot he’s supposed to respond.
“Oh my gog, Dave, please tell me that being drunk is making you this silly.”
“Uh, silly?” He says, finally.
“Yes! Silly! I literally agreed to drink with you, something I have never done, after watching that horrible movie you picked out, not even bad in a good way, and then began to make out with you! Like! How much more clear does it need to be?”
“You’re… in love… with me?” Dave looks like he’s never heard anything more ridiculous in his whole life.
“Da-”
“Wait! How in the world was I supposed to know? You told me that you were straight. You had that thing with Vriska-”
“We didn’t even-”
“Stop interruptin’!” Dave is back close again, enough to feel his breath on your lips and the tip of your nose. It is, unsurprisingly, extremely distracting. “What I’m tryin’ to say is, you have not given me any indication of any of this! You must be drunk as shit, dude.”
“Ok, maybe I haven’t been as obvious as I think I’ve been… but, still!” You tighten your grip on his face, he needs to know, to understand how you feel about him. “Dave, I’ll be honest, I am just a bit, maybe, drunk, but! I am not lying!”
“John,” He looks to the side, “I’m not sure if I should trust you, bro.”
“This is the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever said to you, but-”
“Even more embarrassing than your movie taste?”
“Shut up! Listen to me! I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but I think about you so much. Dave, I always want to be near you, to touch you.” You’re sure you are bright red because of how flustered you are but you keep talking anyway. “I love your voice, your mouth, your eyes- Oh, your eyes, Dave. I like that you appreciate the gift and all that, but your eyes are so beautiful, I just-”
He cuts you off by kissing you again. It’s warm and desperate but not in the same way as before. Dave kisses you like he’ll get the chance to again. Because he will.