Chapter Text
It's early morning on Earth when Dave steps out of the ship and takes a breath of home. After all the official stuff, he drives to his apartment, bathes, shaves, dresses, makes himself an omelette and washes it down with a beer. Stares in dry amusement at his bed, which has apparently been unmade for the last two months, and thinks of napping. Instead, he shrugs on his riding jacket.
He drives an hour north to the chocolate factory to grab a box of the fudge John likes, then buys a big bouquet of flowers from a grocery store back home. (Not roses, though; he buys a single one of those every year for his sister's birthday. As cliche as it is, he can't help but associate the two.) Parked in the half-empty driveway of the Lalonde house, he glances at his watch and confirms what he instinctually knows: it's still not even noon. He lets himself inside. Kanaya greets him in the living room, and he sighs into her neck when she embraces him, fussing at his helmet hair. She offers him tea, coffee, milk, juice, water, alcohol? and he says no, no, thank you, it's okay, really, Kanaya I'm fine. She tugs at the chain around his neck playfully and he gently head-butts her. She goes back to her magazine and he sets his gifts on the kitchen table before wandering into the master bedroom.
Rose is reading a paperback, propped up against the headboard with like five pillows. She lifts her arms up to allow him to collapse across her legs, reading a moment longer before marking her place and setting the book aside.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He grunts.
"You're nervous," she decides, "but not anxious. Excited, maybe—"
Dave snorts into the comforter over her hip. "Are you kidding? I mean—sorry, I know he's your kid and all—"
"Hush, Dave. I know." Running her fingers through his hair, she lets the silence stretch for a moment. "I'm excited for you."
"Creepy," he mumbles.
"You're my brother. You've waited a very long time to be with the person you love. I'm allowed to be happy about today's reunion."
Content, he hums, nuzzling into her. She smiles down on him as she moves her attention to his back and shoulders, provoking a small sigh when she begins tracing swirls into his skin with her nails.
***
Dave wakes up alone in Rose's bed. He glances at his watch, rolls off the bed to peer out the window. John’s home by now. They probably had dinner without him. He makes his way through the house, feeling like he's in college again and he's on his way to take an exam. As he enters the kitchen, Rose crosses his path and offers him an encouraging smile. Through the sliding glass door, he sees John, sitting on the swing out back and messing with his phone. Breathing becomes a little too difficult. He's painfully aware of his pulse. He opens the door, and John looks up at the sound.
"Hey Dave! Thanks for the flowers."
"Yeah."
"We saved you some salmon and rice."
"Thanks."
Dave lingers in the doorway, unsure of how to proceed. Grinning, John motions him over, sliding his phone into one pocket and spreading his knees so he has room to pull Dave in close by the hips.
"Welcome home, space man," he says softly, pulling at Dave's shirt until he's bent over and they're kissing, warm and slow, and now he's home. Now he can relax.
Then John slides one hand up to the back of his neck and holds him there, the fingers of his other hand slipping into the waistband of Dave's jeans and tugging, and Dave has to pull away.
"What?” John protests. “We can do that now."
Dave shakes his head. "Nope. I'm gonna romance you properly. It wouldn't do to tarnish your reputation and sully your virtue and it'd be really awkward if we started doing it in your mothers' backyard, anyway."
"You want to take me on a date before you fuck me."
"Correct."
"Because I'm a virgin."
Dave blinks, shifts his weight. "Well, yeah, there's that, but also because I'm a romantic and it'd be weird to just... fuck."
"You've never 'just fucked' anyone before?"
"Yes, but you're not 'anyone'."
Heaving an entirely fake sigh, John relents. "Alright. And where will this wooing occur?"
"Well normally I'd take a girl out to dinner, but you already had Kanaya's cooking, so I doubt I'd be able to fit any more food in you, even if you are a teenager."
"College kids tend to just ask each other out for coffee," John supplies, shrugging.
Straight-faced, Dave gets down on one knee, puts a hand on John's thigh and the other over his heart. "Johnny Lalonde, I think you're swell and I'd like to take you out for coffee."
John cackles at him, batting Dave's hand away. When Dave just watches him, saying nothing, he tames his laughter. "Wait, really? Now?"
"Why not?"
"It's, like, seven thirty at night, Dave."
"So we'll get decaf. Unless you want to wait? I can pick you up tomorrow after class and—"
"Decaf it is," John says loudly, ending the conversation by grabbing Dave's wrists and pulling him to his feet, towing him along toward the house.
***
Since he slept through dinner, Dave orders a bagel with strawberry cream cheese at the coffee place, along with a black tea. John calls him a wuss. Then John orders a decaf vanilla latte, and Dave calls him a hypocrite. Dave pays for everything and smiles politely at the girl behind the counter, who looks like she's trying to suppress a laugh.
They find a little table in a corner by the windows and sit down. It's pretty quiet; that isn't surprising, considering it's not exactly peak caffeine traffic time. It's almost awkward between the two of them, though. How the hell are they supposed to act tonight, anyway? They've gone on dates before, but those were like practice runs, dates with the training wheels still on; pretty much their usual interaction but with a little more kissing before they parted ways. At a loss for anything else to say, Dave smashes the ice to bits with his biggest hammer.
"So you're still a virgin?"
John, who was blowing on his coffee to cool it, nearly spills all over the place with the force of his startled laugher. "I guess that depends on your definition of virginity!"
"It's kind of a stupid concept, I'll admit, but..." Dave raises one eyebrow over his shades. "How far did you manage to get by the time you were fifteen?"
John gives him a lopsided smile. "How far did you get by fifteen?"
Dave takes a bite of his bagel. John sips his latte, then settles it between his hands, and the contrast of his skin tone against the ceramic of the mug occupies Dave's attention while he considers how to answer.
He decides to deflect: "If virginity were defined as never having shared an orgasm with another person."
John taps at his mug for a moment, and suddenly Dave really, really hopes that John hasn't had any orgasms with other people without sharing.
Then he answers, "In that case, yeah. I'm a virgin," and something possessive inside Dave does a triumphant fist pump. "You gonna change that for me when we get back to your place?"
"Nah, can't just jump you the first chance I get, my brother taught me better than that. We should go dancing or something first. Or at least take a moonlit stroll along the beach, considering I fucking live on the beach. Maybe end up making out in the sand again. Hopefully I won't swallow any this time." Taking a drink of his tea distracts him, so he doesn't immediately notice that John is looking at him oddly.
"I didn't think you had any siblings."
Startled, Dave shakes his head. "Right, no. I don't. Sometimes I get mixed up."
"Um." John hesitates, looking unsure. "Does it have anything to do with, like... last time?"
Dave just meets John's gaze, not bothering with food props. He sort of doesn't want to get into this right now; the differences between that life and this one, how hard it was not to have Bro around, how hard it was to find him again. Especially not when he's supposed to be focusing on wooing this boy—no, not boy, man. John's not thirteen anymore, and he hasn’t been for a long time. He’s all grown up now; the longer Dave looks at him, the more obvious it is. He's younger than Dave, less experienced, but he's not the child in the dumb outfit who Dave waited so many years for. He's bones and muscle and blood pumping hot under skin, lungs breathing the same air as Dave, his foot touching Dave's under the table and he's here.
"Yeah," he breathes, unable to look away from John's eyes and the way the gold rings around his pupils are visible in the sunlight angling through the window. "Last time."
Somehow, John gets it. He reaches across the table, palm up, and Dave grabs his hand, squeezes once. They drink in silence for a long moment, hands loosely clasped, and even when they let go and change the topic, John keeps his foot nudged against Dave's.
***
They do take a walk on the beach before going inside. Their footprints trail behind them, mostly washed away because John can't stay out of the surf, likes to feel the sea swirl around his ankles. He always has. Dave doesn't understand how someone can live their whole life in one place and still love it so much, but then, John has no reason to be bitter about his childhood. He mostly watches and listens as John talks, sometimes wandering a little further into the water but never so far that he has to let go of Dave's hand.
As soon as they turn around to head back to the apartment, Dave feels himself counting down. He easily calculates a time based on their current speed and the distance across the sand. Unless he's mistaken, John can feel the anticipation too; he's just babbling now, talking about nothing. Their hands may or may not be clutching more tightly than before.
The countdown ticks down to zero and Dave opens the door with a little flourish, motioning for John to go first. John smirks at him, pulling him inside by his shirt and catching him in a kiss.
"Eager," Dave taunts, kicking the door closed. "At least give me a chance to light some candles."
"You don't own any candles. Now shut up and fuck me."
Dave laughs, partly because John's an overzealous horny teenager and partly because they can do that now. John is now mouthing insistently at his neck. Dave pushes him gently into the door, reaches around him to latch the deadbolt. John breathes out a half-laugh, winds the fingers of one hand into Dave's hair and holds him still so he can simultaneously kiss him and take his shades off with his free hand. He pulls Dave's shirt up over his head and tosses it across the room, staring only briefly at his bare chest before his hands are all over it, sliding around his ribs to his back, pulling him in close, and Dave can feel blunt nails pressed into the skin under his shoulder blades. He goes willingly, allows himself to be manhandled even as he continues the movement, pins John firmly to the door and returns his hungry kisses. When John pushes his hips into Dave's he's already hard. Fuck. Dave grabs at his hips, pushing him up the wall, pulling both thighs up and around his waist. John kisses hard, making small noises into his mouth and arching into him. Making out is amazing enough, but John's young and impatient; soon he's pushing at Dave, getting away from the door and lowering himself to the floor so he can steer them toward the bed. He pulls his own shirt off on the way, starting in on Dave's pants almost before Dave's ass is on the mattress, and Dave has to laugh again.
"Slow down, killer. You have me all night."
“Dave, c’mon, I’ve been thinking about this all day, I just want—” He cuts himself off by kissing Dave again.
John’s relentless forward motion is infectious. It’s stirring up a frantic energy in Dave that he hasn’t felt in years. He’s murmuring into the mouth against his, and John's got a hand down his pants, panting Dave’s name right back at him, forehead on his shoulder so he can watch himself work, and it's hot as hell but it's not enough.
He pulls away, evoking a breathy noise of complaint from John, which turns into a little approving hum when he shimmies John's jeans and boxers off his hips, freeing his dick. He tugs John down onto the bed and crawls up to hover over him on all fours, his pants still mostly on and this beautiful boy laid out stark naked underneath him, legs open. Slowly, he lowers himself to kiss along John’s collarbone, grinding down on him, the friction between them electric. John’s pulling at his belt loops for leverage, twisting and arching under him with his knees up and his head tipped back into the mattress. Dave holds himself up with both arms so he can watch the way John’s muscles move, can watch his face, can glance down and see the place where they’re joined, where the contact is burning a hole into him and John’s acting like he can feel it too, like he’s sizzling inside and he can’t get the heat out except by panting it into Dave’s mouth when he surges up to kiss him. It doesn’t take very long before John comes, holding Dave to him by the back of the neck. With John struggling for breath, Dave slows to a stop.
Once his breath has evened out, John glances down and, smirking, reaches between them, ignoring the mess on his stomach to grope Dave’s dick. Dave coughs out a laugh at his boldness and almost manages to speak, but John bowls him over sideways. He could fight it—could continue the momentum and throw John over the edge of the bed, if he wanted—but he lets it happen, goes limp and wide-eyed as John hovers over him, straddling one thigh. John licks his lips, reminiscent of a predator, but his touch is gentle. His head dips down and he bites Dave’s earlobe so lightly it’s almost more breath than teeth, making Dave shiver. When he squeezes, it’s hard to keep from thrusting. Then he picks up the pace, and plants a single kiss to Dave's temple before he starts whispering, saying "how does that feel?" and "fuck you sound so good" and "I'm gonna do all kinds of things to you now that you're mine", and Dave can't stop himself from bucking up into John's hand until he’s choking on curses, on John’s name, clutching at him hard enough to bruise and coming hard.
When he's done and John snuggles back down against him, his erection digs into Dave's thigh. Dave wonders how long he's been hard. Smiling to himself, he thinks that as much of a douche as John can be sometimes, he is apparently not greedy in the sack. As soon as the world around him settles again he disentangles himself and rolls off the bed. John looks confused, but Dave just grins up at him from his position on the floor, grabs John's legs and drags till his ass is at the edge of the mattress, propped back on his elbows. It's worth the discomfort of knees on carpet when he gets his mouth around John's dick and the younger man hisses in pleasure.
Dave has to hold his hips to keep them still while he works. It's been a while since he's done this, and the noises from John make it hard to hold back. Somehow, he manages. With one arm across John's abdomen and his other hand around the base of his dick—with both of John's hands fisted in the sheets, John's mouth hanging open and needy little noises coming out of him—Dave manages quite well. Dave can tell he's getting close even before he says, "Dave, fuck, I'm—" and he welcomes it, coaxes it out with his lips around the tip and his hand squeezing the rest, swallows it down while John all but screams.
Spent, John collapses back on the bed. Dave leaves a short kiss on the inside of his thigh before getting up to clean himself up and rinse his mouth out. When he's done, he brings a warm, wet washcloth back to the bed and sits next to John to start rubbing the mess off him. Every one of John's muscles is completely relaxed under his hand, and it seems like he's already mostly asleep. Dave can't bring himself to ask the kid to move so they can get under the covers, so he doesn't. Tossing the dirty washcloth on the night stand, he cuddles up with his boyfriend and falls the fuck asleep.
***
John wakes up slowly. Comfortably. He's warm and snug, and there's someone breathing next to him. Dave. He's in Dave's bed. Dave is naked beside him. Memories of the night before come back to him in gentle waves, and he feels deeply satisfied. He turns, props his head up on one arm so he can look at Dave's sleeping face and bask in the feeling. It was so much different than doing it by himself; so much more intense. It felt like being underwater. It almost felt like flying—but who is he to judge what does or doesn't feel like flying? Maybe he should ask Dave if sex for him is like going into space.
Dave eventually stirs and smiles, opening his big brown eyes, and John doesn't know why that strikes him as weird. Dave's eyes have always been the same, light like chocolate and honey, and he's not sure why the sight of Dave all disheveled and blinking up at him in the morning light makes him think they should be red.
Epilogue
Touchdown is the most exciting thing to happen to Terezi in the last year and a half, of course, having done little more than float around on the ship with her partner since leaving Alpha Cen. They're both excited to come home, so that when they finally land and exit the ship, met with the usual homecoming party, it feels bigger than just a routine run. It feels like they’re returning conquerors.
Dave, because he's Dave, bypasses the rest of the crowd, nods once at her partner as they pass, and bounds up the ladder with the strength of a gravity-walker and the speed of a man reunited with his best friend. Flash bulbs light them up as he hugs her fiercely, and she laughs into his neck because he's just so ridiculous. He pulls away after a moment and holds her gloved hands. When she glances down she sees something that is definitely not John’s old class ring.
"You’re hitched?"
Dave nods. "To John. Couple years ago. I would have waited for you to come home so you could be my best woman, but you were gone a fucking decade."
"Hell, I'm just glad it worked out. It would have sucked if you went through all that drama for nothing."
"Oh god, you didn't even see the real drama."
"Dave, baby, he was a teenager and you weren't putting out. I can imagine the drama." She raises an eyebrow at him. "...You weren't putting out, were you?"
He swats at her playfully. Then he leads her down the ladder and onto solid ground, still holding her hand.
Later, Terezi sits in the Lalonde living room in Rose's clothes, hair still damp from her shower. It's just like old times, including the yoghurt parfait that Kanaya presents her with. While she eats (goddamn but she missed fresh dairy, Kanaya is an angel), Dave rambles at her about the state of things on Earth.
"What is he babbling about now?" Terezi and Dave turn to see John in the doorway, smirking.
"Dang, kid," says Terezi, shoving her parfait at Dave and getting up to greet him. "You're all grown up, aren'tcha?" John lets her stroke his bicep, then chuckles when she takes one in each hand and squeezes.
Dave stands, puffing himself up in a parody of territorial display. "Unhand my husband, you minx."
John flexes for her, smiling over her head at Dave. "Aw, Rez is harmless. She's just appreciating the scenery."
"Yeah, what the stud muffin said," she chirps.
"I thought I was your stud muffin," Dave says, sounding wounded. From her place next to him on the couch, Rose pats his shoulder.
A car pulls up outside and John goes "There he is!" before disappearing around the corner. Terezi sprawls out across the chair again and holds her hand out until Dave gives her parfait back to her. There are significantly less strawberries in it than before. She digs out a blueberry and throws it at him, which makes Kanaya inhale sharply like she's about to admonish them, but he catches it in his mouth and aims a dorky thumbs-up at his sister-in-law. Kanaya looks placated, but only just.
A minute later John comes back into the living room with another man, whose utter unfamiliarity doesn't stop something like recognition from shifting hotly in Terezi's chest. She carefully sets her parfait down on the coffee table and rises to her feet, meeting the stranger's gaze.
"Terezi, this is my buddy Karkat. He's visiting from Minnesota."
"P.S., he's kind of an asshole," Dave puts in, earning a dismissive eye roll from the man in question.
"Karkat Vantas, ma'am," he says, stepping toward her and offering a hand to shake. "Pleasure's mine."
Out of the corner of her eye she can see Rose watching her, as if the other woman can see right through her to the inexplicable wingbug party in her gut. Taking his hand, Terezi manages to get out, "Uh. Terezi Pyrope."
Karkat laughs, seeming genuinely amused. "Oh, don't worry, I know who you are. It's nice to finally get to meet you," he says, and as a smile grows on her face without instruction from her brain, she thinks to herself,
You too.