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Who: John and you
When: April 13th
Where: ye olde generic yet well-patronized tavern
What: John turns 20... again. He gets treated to a penis cake. Come wish him a happy birthday and have some cake.
Warnings: none, other than phallic pastries.

At the end of the day, John is pretty used to Weird Time Shenanigans. So to be transported back in time by barely a week before his birthday doesn't really set him off course that much. A little disorienting, sure, but nothing he can't handle. It certainly helps him get settled a little, and being who he is, it doesn't take him long to get along with his coworkers. There's some pranking back and forth, a little japery, and despite his general discomforts, it all feels... pretty okay. Ish.

Okay-ish except for the part where he lets slip that his birthday is coming up again and he jokingly wonders if that makes him technically 21 since, from his perspective, it hasn't been anywhere close to a year since he last celebrated his birthday.

It doesn't really seem to matter, because some of the other guards sharing an off-shift with him take it into their own hands to drag him into town and down to the tavern, where he repeatedly denies their offers of cheap booze, and tries his best to at least seem like he's having a good time. Because it seems like they are, at least, and it's pretty nice of them to throw him a birthday party when they barely know him. Some part of him can even appreciate the birthday boy crown made out of old parchment. And even when they bring out the crudely-but-lovingly made penis-shaped cake (why though) he tries to appreciate it, though a part of him is waiting for the other shoe to drop. His prankster's gambit can only take so many hits before it's totally depleted...

"You guys really didn't have to..."

Oh, but they did. And there's just enough to go around not only for the birthday boy and his guests, but everyone else in the tavern, too.

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On the one hand, John is thrilled to have his best friend here. On the other hand, his friend is attending the birthday party he didn't even want (and that he's still not sure he wants...) and placing a weird phallic(?)-shaped objected in front of him. He wants very, very much to be touched. He's not as oblivious as he seems, and it doesn't take a genius to know that neither of them are in the position to be making grand gestures like buying old movie paraphernalia for each other.

"Dave." He says it in that kind of flat-but-affectionate way, like a parent trying really hard not to laugh at an inappropriate but hilarious thing their child has done. "Is this... is this some kind of troll thing? I mean, I appreciate the thought, and I know you've been spending a lot of time with Karkat and all, but that's not really my thing."

But he pushes it off to the side in a way that says Dave's not allowed to take it back, and already concocting a plan for how to hide it in the barracks. It doesn't seem safe to leave out in the open, for a myriad of reasons.

The mug Dave pours for him gets a different reaction, though. He does pick it up, and takes a sniff, wrinkling his nose a little, though he doesn't put it down.

"Are you sure about this? This smells worse than the dead things Jade brings me sometimes. It doesn't have anything weird in it, does it?"

"What happens in the new universe, stays in the universe." He says, vaguely, which is exactly what John should expect. It's true, he and Karkat had gotten pretty close, but what he has and has not done with Karkat can definitely stay back home with him.

"You're probably going to have to find the key for that padlocked little mind of yours, Egbert. You have your inhibitions all sealed up like a Mattel GirlTech password journal." He'll bridge the gap between friendly acquaintances and best goddamn friends by reaching out and giving John's noggin a soft rap with his knuckles.

"But I mean, you probably signed up for perpetual discomfort when you put on the corset." He shrugs, and he cups his hands around his drink. "This isn't a cold one at all, it's fucking warm- and.." He raises it for a sniff too, crinkling his nose. "Yeah, it smell like something Grandma thought was a good idea. But I wasted my slave wages on this trash juice so we can either muscle up and drink it or try to trade it in for some milk and cookies."

He's still going to stare down at it for a long ass time before he looks at John again. "Birthday boy honors." Which means, don't watch me choke on this trash.

"Gee, Dave, first you get me an alien dong, then something I'm not sure isn't pee, and now a guilt trip? This is the best birthday ever." But he's just ribbing and he elbows Dave none too gently, but not really in the way of actually hurting him, either.

He's got a point, though. Intentional guilt trip or not, he'd feel bad for it to go to waste. Sure, some else would gladly take it, but Dave didn't get it for them. He peers at the drink again, and figures it's now or never. He starts counting down mentally from five, and when he gets to two he just... knocks it back. While he's chugging the entire thing in one go, he's pretty okay, mostly because he's holding his breath. But as soon as he sets the empty mug down, a few seconds pass, and then he makes... a face. The face. Dave knows the one. The one all their stupid friends make, like it's some kind of universal concept set forth by Sburb that requires all players be able to make that particular face.

It's not a happy face, as he sits there with his whole face scrunched up, trying to push the taste out of his mouth like a dog that's gotten the bright idea to eat peanut butter.

After a few very long seconds, he recovers enough to give Dave an expectant look that says it's his turn now, and also to ask, "Can't we just go back to buying each other shitty movie props?"

"It's not pee. It's fermented bee jizz." He says, as if that redeems the quality of John's birthday by a considerable amount. He does feel kind of bad. Partly because he's all partied out and partly because any kind of merriment here seems to involve things that platonic friends don't generally enjoy together.

The best Dave can hope for is that, somehow, this one, single drink will make tonight fun beyond belief. Not that John really seemed to be enjoying the last couple of birthdays he had back home, anyway. Dave doesn't blame him. Things are heavy, they'll never be totally normal and now they're in another weird place and who knows how bad this will go.

But it's John's birthday, and Dave wants him to forget how garbage everything is for a little bit. If that means drinking bee jizz after watching (in horror) as John has a face journey, then he'll just have to do it.

Not to be out done, Dave needs to force himself to chug this whole thing At first, it's sweet and the taste of honey comes through, then as he swallows it, there's a weird kick that makes him scrunch his face up despite his best efforts to look normal. He licks his lips.

"This place isn't exactly rife with fake declarations of independence." He quirks a brow at John. "I guess we could get crafty. If I had more time I could have paper mached a Nic Cage head for you to get frisky with."

"No." There's no hesitation there, and John scrunches up his nose. "No, you don't have to do that. Thanks. But no thanks."

Because he doesn't really put it past Dave to do something like that ironically. John isn't willing to take the chance. But that leaves him at an impasse, and he takes a look around. His coworkers have been nice enough, but a lot of them are erring on the toasted end of tipsy, and he's still sitting here sober and being kind of a partypooper. He's had his cake, and he's eaten it too, and... jeez. He's pretty partied out.

When did he get like this?

"You want to get out of here?" He doesn't get the feeling he'll be particularly missed; besides, he's been here for a while now, and who can blame him for wanting a little quality time with his best bro? "I think they're having enough fun on their own..."

"You don't need to be all honorable. It's okay to want someone to put in the hours for a fine gift for you."

John is right, he would absolutely do it. Being told no is of little consequence in this scenario, too. If anything, it's just gasoline flicked onto the ol' shit fire.

Dave raises his brows when John suggests leaving so soon, but he doesn't question it. He had noticed that John had been enjoying birthdays less and less in later years. He mostly figured that birthdays were getting kind of same-ish. There was a lot of them, after all. It's a lot of cake and shit to deal with on a near monthly basis.

Not to mention, it's sort of symbolic of how weirdly peaceful life had become. That they could just sit around blowing out candles and dressing up. It makes you restless.

So, he doesn't argue, he takes John's prompt and he stands up. "I think they'll be disappointed when they realise you didn't eat a dick." He points out, but he's not wild on taking a slice either. Instead, he makes sure to grab that glass dildo with gusto. "Hey, don't forget this." Now he's going to press it against John's cheek.

"I'm not looking to get frisky at all, Dave. So. It's okay, really." John rolls his shoulders back just in time to have a weird tentadick shoved in his face and he half-heartedly pushes Dave's hand away as he goes to stand up. "I'm taking it with me, jeez! Just give me a second! I just have to..."

Listen. He just has to adjust his booty shorts. They do fairly well in terms of not giving him a wedgie, but he still feels the need to adjust them every now and again, to make sure he's getting optimal butt coverage. No one needs to be seeing that. With that taken care of, he reaches out to snatch the dildo from Dave (how did it even come to this...) so he can tuck it into his belt (how could this happen to him?) as he makes his way to the door.

Outside, the air feels weirdly nice, even for how exposed his skin is, and stretches his arms over his head.

"This is about as far as I planned ahead. I guess we can just wander around? I don't know where anything is here, but I don't think there's that much anyway."

The smug look on Dave's face is indication enough that he got the exact reaction he was hoping for out of John. It lasts a little while, then fades into an obscure, blank look when John fidgets with his shorts.

He's not thinking he's seeing John in a new light, but he's barely even caught a glance of John in less than his normal clothing. It's conflicting to think that he doesn't look bad in what he's wearing, but that Dave doesn't exactly want to see him in it.

Whatever. He shoots him a thumbs up when he stows away his precious dildo and follows John with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He's making his normie clothing last as long as he can, but he's already counting his pennies for some sort of Cool Guy vest and pants combo.

"There's a forest that's pretty cool. Full of the kind of obscure shit you'd see if Tim Burton were a 6 year old girl and also a fetish artist." It's gothy, pastel and full of genital shaped things, alright? "Or we can hike around the village and hassle the drunks like we're a couple of cool, young people who blend right in."

John's had enough of drunk people for one night and shakes his head. "Let's check out the forest. It can't be that bad, right?"

It was one thing to have a town full of perverts, but a forest, what was a forest going to do? Little does John know; he mostly thinks Dave is just being weird, because when isn't Dave being weird? He's been learning that even after Sburb, there are still things that can surprise him, but he can at least be positive that it's less likely to be people out there, and John's really into getting away from them for a little while. Except for his best bro, of course.

"Lead the way."

"Sounds like we're the handsome, white leads in a horror movie."

Not that it's stopping him from leading the way, at John's prompting. He's seen some weird shit in that forest, but a surprising lack of Axe Murderers. It's actually kind of peaceful, and not just because he's rolled in things that made him high out of his mind. Truly this is a beautiful place.

He leads them through the lengths of the village, which is filled with people enjoying the nightlife. Dave doesn't particularly want to partake in it either, so he's glad to head right into the beginnings of the forest.

"Do you come out this way much? Seems like you have it pretty cushy up in the castle." He seems relatively at ease with the forest, which is lit both by the moon and an eerie glow from fireflies and strange plants.

"Yeah but we don't have any token minorities to get killed first, so I think we're pretty safe."

Classic movie tropes... admittedly, some of them were not great, but all the same. He puts the thought and the village behind him, and looks forward as they start moving into the forest. It's hard to surprise him with much of anything anymore, but it is rather pretty. The weird fireflies and glowy plants remind him... well, they remind him a little of LOWAS. Strange how that works out.

"I don't get much of a chance, no. When I'm not working, I..." Don't really do much of anything. Sequesters himself somewhere quiet. "I just kind of hang around. But I don't want to go too far. If I go too far and get lost, it's not like I can fly back."

Yep. That's his excuse.

There is something familiar about the unnaturalness of it all, even if it's comfortably unlike Dave's planet. He's glad for the lack of heat and fire, really.

"You're doing the right thing, to be honest. I've gotten myself ass-backward lost in this place enough, and I'm here all the time doing shit for cash." It's much easier to send some broke loser to run around and chase mushrooms than it is to do it yourself, of course.

He kindly omits the amount of time he's spent here just rubbing one out.

"There's a pretty cool pond up ahead, if you're into that. There's also a rock Matthew Mcconaughey, in terms of both appearance and acting range." He's only really glanced at it, never getting the chance to get too close or hang around it. He remembers where it is, because there's a trail of ever-increasing pink flowers that smell amazing. Dave jerks his head in the general direction of it, then starts to walk that way anyway.

If John follows, Dave will lead them to a pond, hedged in by a vast growth of fragrant, pink flowers. There is indeed a rock, whether it resembles any actor is hard to say, but Dave will sit on it.

"I'll be the judge of any McConaughey likenesses," he mutters under his breath. Actually, he's not even sure if he still liked Matthew McConaughey or not; he hasn't had a chance to find out. It turned out though, once you grew up, you stopped liking the stupid stuff you did when you were a kid. Except for your stupid best friend. As it is, John is practically attached to Dave's hip; he's not scared, he just really, really does not want to get lost alone out here. And also maybe he wants to see this weird looking rock.

The pond is actually more breathtaking than he thought; the rock, not so much. It just looks like a rock. But at least John is immediately entranced by the flowers. Plants weren't really his thing, they were Jade's, but three years on a space boat together, and you kind of absorbed some things by pure osmosis. If nothing else, he thinks she'd like to see them.

"Alright, I give your rock a 2 out of 10. It's got a rugged McConaughey-esque charm, but that's where the similarities end." After he's gotten a good look at the flowers (not knowing exactly what he's looking at), he wiggles his way onto the rock next to Dave, giving him a playful shove. "Kind of surprised there's no one else out here. This is... nice."

What he wants to say is that this seems like a good place to make out or more, but he doesn't want to give Dave the wrong idea. But it is true.

It is a good make out place. It's also a great place for some private time. Surprisingly, not many people seem to venture here, which makes Dave really glad that John can see it too. You wander into enough psychedelic bushes, you start to question reality a little.

"You go out into the forest, you find a cool rock for your friend and this is the appreciation you get." Dave says with a grunt as he digs himself down onto the rock to stop himself from falling off the rock. He takes a moment to absorb the sights and the sounds and the smells of the forest.

In a way that would totally be weird any other time, Dave feels comfortable enough to rest his cheek on John's shoulder. The flowers smell nice, he smells nice, Dave feels warm and comfortable and it's probably because of all the booze he drank.

"Sorry this birthday sucks, dude."

"Don't be. It's not like it's your fault. Heck, if I could blame it on you, it'd probably be easier."

He finds that he doesn't really mind the proximity, and lets Dave just rest there. It is rather balmy, maybe from the tree cover, maybe there were some... natural springs nearby or something. John doesn't know about those kinds of things. He just knows how he feels in the moment, and that's surprisingly nice, given everything. Nice enough to give Dave's knee a jocular pat.

"Hey, it's kind of nice having someone here for it though. You know?" He breathes in heavily, taking in the scent of the flowers, and the water, and the forest in general. "It gets kind of lonely sometimes."

Not just here, but back home, too.

Warmth is starting to bubble rapidly in Dave, only temporarily paused by the part of his brain that feels genuine concern for his own comfort. Urges push past reason and he allows himself to indulge in the feeling.

It's not just a result of flowers, but they certainly magnify things he's been feeling. Loneliness, attraction, mild sexual frustration- living in a sex paradise as a sexless, awkward virgin coming to terms with your sexuality leads to an array of pent up sensations. He's fought off feelings like this for John before. Quietly. Without even realising it himself, for the most part. First came being threatened and disgusted by his own sexuality, then came acknowledging that John would never swing that way. Not for Dave, not for anyone.

Which is fine, really. Dicks and friendship didn't mix, and Karkat was much more open to experimenting with feelings.

But now they're here, together, in sex paradise and Dave is starting to feel things he buried down in a box years ago. John is cute, John makes him feel good, John is built and the little deviant in Dave wants to feel something other than a hug or a shoulder shove. When John doesn't shy away from closeness and touches him back, he needs to restrain the urge to move in for a kiss. If anything, the fear of rejection is the most powerful weapon he has against whatever happens to be happening inside him.

"Yeah." He says, tone uneasy and the slightest bit strained. "I don't think I appreciated a dense population while I had the chance. I thought I was so cool and edgy with my teen misanthropy phase but I kind of like, I dunno. People. Being around people. Different people, too. The meteor fucked me up and I had, what- five? Five-ish people. Must have sucked with three." He says with a shrug against John. "The universe is great and all, but it's no Earth. Earth was really going somewhere, I think. The internet was taking us wild new places, music was getting worse, they started making those superhero movies and I never got to see where they went with it. Hoo boy. I'd do anything for a computer and some WiFi around here."

He's just rambling for the sake of it now.

If asked, John would say that Dave's rambling was just one of those things, and maybe it was kind of annoying, but you learned to tune it out? But if you really pressed him, he might admit that it was kind of endearing. For someone who tried so hard to pretend like having feelings was below him or whatever that whole deal was, the rambling gave away a lot more than he probably realized.

At least to John, it does. He always could kind of pick out the real emotions, if he was listening closely. This very moment is no different, but... somehow, it still feels that way.

To say that John had never had a single sexy thought about Dave would be a lie, but it had only ever been those weird involuntary types of thoughts, where your puberty-addled mind sort of goes off on its own, and then you feel weird afterwards and wonder if you should say anything or keep it to yourself, and decide that the latter is probably the best course of action. Because it would be weird otherwise. Right? ...right?

He does find that he's tuning out Dave's rambling though, mostly in favor of letting that hand sit on his knee and idling rubbing circles with his thumb, while wondering if that weird sort of spark he's feeling is just because he's lonely, and Dave is here and cute and warm and soft, or if there's really something worth exploring. It scares him, just a little, but it entices him even more. Eventually, he wrenches his gaze up, though going from a thousand-yard stare at the ground to focusing on his friend is a little disorienting. That's the only reason he can think of for feeling so suddenly flushed.

"Oh. Yeah, the internet was kind of wild, huh?"

Edited 2017-06-19 07:58 (UTC)

Eventually, the sensation of John's thumb rubbing over his knee is enough to bring his rambling to a less organic stop. He had words on the tip of his tongue, ready to sass John out for not really paying attention, but they fade into his thoughts and pretty much disintegrate. Dave breathes in deep, trying to clear his mind with fresh air and filling his nostrils with the goddamn flowery smell. His mind is now pretty much 100% fixated on John, the shape of his jaw, the way his hand feels on him, the way his neck is so close to Dave's lips he can taste it.

Actually, he may very well be tasting in. In his idleness, he's managed to press his lips against his nice, soft, neck nook (trolls have all but ruined that term, and yet..). Despite being aware of it, Dave is reluctant to draw his lips away. If anything, they just travel upward, so he can catch the lobe of John's ear in his teeth to give it a quick nibble.

He sees practically nothing wrong with this, so much so that his hand dips to rub circles over John's thigh, much less innocuous than a hand on the knee.

For once, Dave actually can't find a damn thing to say. There's still a sentient, non-John-obsessed part of him that is absolutely terrified of garnering a disgusted, disinterested reaction from John.

Edited 2017-06-19 11:29 (UTC)

The only response John can come up with, initially, is a sharp exhale. That's-- certainly, by most definitions, Dave is definitely kissing his neck. Moreover, John is definitely enjoying it, and tilting his head to one side, inviting more attention, as he slips his arm around Dave's back and shifts to give him a little better leverage. It also gives way for him to reach up and tangle his fingers in Dave's hair. So this is how it's going to go, huh? It doesn't even feel entirely wrong, to see where this might lead. It feels bizarrely natural. More so than it should.

"If you're trying to make up for the lame birthday..." he starts, then trails off briefly, wondering if he actually wants to discourage this. Hm. No, maybe he doesn't. "Then I think you're on to something."

It's like some part of him doesn't believe that these are actual words coming out of his own mouth. Did being here in this strange world for such a short time already have that much of an impact on him? Does it even really matter? More pressing is if he should reciprocate, or just let Dave do his thing, or were they supposed to trade off, and how would he know when it was time?

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