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“Dave, stop kicking the seat,” Dirk whines from the front seat of the car.
“Sorry,” Dave replies in a tone that is not sorry what so ever. “I’m just excited. I haven’t seen John in a whole year.”
“Pipe down the both of ya. I can’t hear myself think between y’all and this traffic. Get the fuck off my road, ya jackasses!” Dave and Dirk try to stifle their smiles at their older brother’s road rage. Thankfully Dave dragged everyone out of the house early so even that with the freak heavy traffic, they would still make John’s arrival time.
In fact, after parking and keeping Dave from outright running to the terminal, they arrive exactly as John emerges from the security tunnel. As Dave runs and meets his best friend in a tackle-like hug, Bro comments to Dirk, “Am I the only one who thinks it’s freaky that he does this timing thing?”
“Nope. It’s weird.”
“Okay. Good.” He watches as Dave is lifted up off of his feet with a squawk and spun around. He just shakes his head as Dave is finally set down as the brunette decides that the other twin needs a hug as well. Bro can almost hear the bones in Dirk’s shoulders complaining under the strain. John wisely only greets Bro with a fist bump.
They pick up his bag from the carousel and head back to their car while John narrators his entire flight to the Striders. Bro swears the kid talks the entire ride back to their apartment which was a quick trip since the traffic has mysteriously disappeared. John complains about all the stairs even when Dirk carries his suitcase and Dave offers to carry his travel bag. Bro leaves them behind by the second flight of stairs. The twins are old enough to find their own way.
When the three boys finally enter the apartment, John performs an over exaggerated sigh as Dirk and Dave simultaneously roll their eyes at him. Dirk takes his suitcase to their room. Dave heads follow him but he is stopped by John. “Don’t you want the cupcakes?”
“Oh shit you brought Egbert cupcakes all the way from the far lands of Seattle? Oh fuck yes I want cupcakes. I want all the cupcakes. Don’t give any of these other lame losers any. They don’t deserve the sweet moist flesh of the miniaturized cakes that have been frosted to perfection by your old man, the Zeus of baking. He has the Midas touch but instead of turning everything to gold he turns everything into delicious.”
As Dave rambles about how good the bakery a la Egbert is, John takes his bag back and pulls out a nifty cupcake travel case. Dave’s words die off as the snap of the lid releases the sugary aroma inside. Even Bro swivels around from his position on the couch, interested in the sweet contents. He can almost hear the drool forming in Dave’s mouth as John pulls out six perfectly sculpted cupcakes that are magically undisturbed despite an entire plane flight, car ride, and stair climb.
“Gimme,” Dave immediately begs.
“Hang on. Dad says it always polite to serve the host first.” John lifts out two of the cupcakes and walks past where Dave is practically drooling on his arm. He quickly hands one to Bro and Dirk. He turns back in time to smack Dave’s hand away from the tray. Dave whines as he can hear both Bro and Dirk biting into theirs with moans for the delicious flavor. “This one,” John says in a strange somber voice, “is yours.”
Dave takes it with careful hands, not wanting to drop the special treat. He pulls down the wrapper just enough to get more than just icing for the first bite. Then he goes in with jaws open.
Seconds later he is spitting out chunks of yellow and white.
“What the fuck, John!”
But John can’t answer the venomous question because he’s too busy literally rolling around on the ground laughing. Dave continues to spit out the bite he had taken to almost identical raised eyebrows from the other Striders who paused in their eating. Or at least, Dirk pauses. Bro had finished his already.
“Sponge... cake... Got... you... Dave!” John manages between gulps of air and bouts of laughter. Dirk steps forward to take a closer look at what Dave is holding and notices that yes, that is not real cake but yellow sponge foam cut into the shape of a cupcake, wrapped in paper like a cupcake, and iced like a cupcake.
Dave glares down at him before calmly setting the trick cupcake down and then leaping on his best friend. John just squeals with laughter as they grapple, Dave giving his honest best to try to get his arms around his neck. But John is a squirmy little fucker and manages to get away. He actually gets to his feet and runs around the futon to hide in Bro’s shadow.
“Hey lil’man. Ya brought this upon yourself. Don’t drag me into this.”
“But I gave you a cupcake!”
Bro’s arm shoots out and grabs the back of Dave’s collar just as he was going to leap at John again. “I guess ya did. And it was a damn good one. Ya can tell Pops I said that.
“Lemme at ‘em!” Dave fights against Bro’s hold.
“But then I wouldn’t get any more cupcakes. And there are still three left. I bet one of them is yours. A real one.” He delivers the last line with a severe glance to a nodding John whose smile isn’t even fazed. “See little dude. It’s all good.” Bro sets Dave down, his hand hovering over the back of his shirt but Dave just crosses his arms and sits down on the couch on Bro’s other side. Bro turns back to John. “Are there any other sponge ones?” John shakes his head no. “Good. Now go grab him one.”
John jumps to his feet and runs around the table to avoid getting close to Dave. He comes back holding a cupcake. Dave is a little more cautious when eating it, but he’s fully forgiven John by the time the cupcake is just crumbs in his lap.
“Wanna play Mariokart?”
“Only on 64!”
“Duh, only way to play.”
Bro relaxes back down. He knows Dave won’t hold a grudge against John. Pranking is what he does. After watching a couple rounds and even showing the amateurs up in a couple races, Bro finally wanders over to the kitchen to put something together in the sense of dinner.
John misses the next turn and Dave cheers as he passes his fallen competition when John hears the front door open and close.
“Hi Mister Strider!”
D startles a little bit at the unfamiliar voice but quickly finds its source in front of the television. “Oh no, not this again.”
“Right. I remember. Hi Mister D!” John tries again.
“Jesus H, kid.” D drops his briefcase in its usual spot by the door and then turns to the kitchen. “Bro, he’s making me feel old. I just got off a plane where there was no less than three babies attempting to make a symphony with their crying because the flight attendants were too busy making googly eyes at me to assist their poor mothers so I am tired and stressed and I really don’t want to feel old.”
“I was on a plane today too! I flew all the way from Washington. Then Dave and Dirk and Bro picked me up from the airport with hugs and a cool fistbump!” John continues to converse with D, fully abandoning his game much to Dave’s half-hearted complaints.
“Why didn’t I get a cool fistbump at the airport?” D whines as he shrugs out of his sports jacket and takes the beer that Bro passes him.
“Where did you fly from? Was it from Hollywood? Were you making movie magic? Are you going to make any Nicolas Cage movies? I love Nicolas Cage. I wish Nicolas Cage would visit Washington. Then I could tell him how much I liked him in Con Air. Do you like Con Air, Mister D? I bet you could make a movie as cool as Con Air!”
“Does this kid have an off switch? And I will make movies so cool that the mere mention of their names will chill any and all glasses of apple juice in the vicinity to the perfect drinkable temperature.”
“That’s pretty cool.” His attention is distracted by Dave jamming his elbow in his side and telling him to choose the next track.
D takes the momentary pause to whisper to Bro, “Does he still do the pranking shit?”
“Already got Dave with a sponge cupcake.”
“Oh shit, that’s a good one.”
“I’m expecting more will show up through the week.”
“How long is the kid with us?”
“The majority of his Spring Break.”
“His dad lets that happen?”
“Apparently he feels more comfortable lettin’ him stay with us each time he comes home unharmed.”
“Damn. We might need to fix that.” D takes a swig of his beer.
“So how’s the movie business?” Bro asks, returning to his normal volume.
“They signed off on it.”
“Hot damn, D. Now I wish I had more than Bud Lite and pizza bites to celebrate with.”
“Nah, that’s exactly what I want to celebrate with.” The combination of cheers and groans draws his attention over to where the kids are sitting. “Best part is just hanging with family.”
“Sentimental fucker. Ya call Mom yet?”
“Dude, she’s the first person I called. That’s not how to take that turn! Rainbow Road just isn’t that hard,” he calls over to Dave. “Jeez, kids this days.”
“Go show them up, D. I’ll bring the food over.”
“Sweet deal.”
They play videogames and watch cheesy movies, guest’s choice, until late into the night. Everyone switched into pajamas. Bro even managed to find a pair of sleep pants to keep from scarring John with his usual choice. The Striders only pay half a mind to John when he starts rummaging through the kitchen. Bro had reluctantly put away all sharp objects and had stocked real food in the fridge and cabinets instead. He doesn’t want to be sued by John’s father for actual harm done to the kid. And no one cares enough to mention anything when John ducks into the bedroom despite all of the strange beeps or rustling noises coming from within.
By the end of the third movie, D and Dirk are curled up asleep on one end of the futon and Bro keeping a watchful but sleepy eye at the other with John and Dave in the middle. John is talking animatedly to Dave about how the finished movie is the best movie ever.
Bro reluctantly gets to his feet the third time the menu screens comes up. He ejects the disk and puts in another movie at John’s request. As long as the brat was still up, they’d put up with bring a good host. At least for the first night of spring break. Once the new movie is going, Bro goes over to Dirk and nudges him awake. D doesn’t flinch even as Dirk sleepily extracts himself from next to him. Bro guides his stumbling steps to his room where he manages to curl up in his own bed.
Just as Bro sits back down in his spot on the futon, a loud beeping noise comes from the bedroom. Bro and Dave turn to look first to the door and then back to a snickering John. They hear a crash and then the beeping stops.
“Alarm clock?”
“3 am?”
“You are cruel, Egbert.”
And then it starts again, but with a different tone. It takes longer this time for Dirk to find and destroy the offending object.
“How many holes in the wall will I have to repair?”
John can’t answer between his giggles.
A scream of frustration joins the next series of beeps that were cut short by another crash against the wall. The beeps barely stop before the next one starts. This one rattles the bedroom door and startles D awake.
“Ah, wha? Bo? Da fuck?” D blearily asks as he takes in the other two Striders on the couch and the laughing friend and tries to figure out what woke him up. He spins around on the futon as a fifth set of beeps start and end quickly with a battle cry. “Seriously, what the fuck?”
The bedroom door slams open. Dirk is standing there with an alarm clock skewered on the end of a katana and promised death in his eyes. He instantly zeroes in on John who has burst into a fresh round of cackles.
“Oh shit.” D is moving before anyone else can react, vaulting over the back of the couch as Dirk runs forward. His feet leave the ground as D scoops him up with arms wrapped around his waist. Dirk starts screaming to let him down so he can kill the motherfucker. John’s eyes go wide and he finally stops laughing.
“No killing the guest. Even if he is a shitty prankster. He got you good and now you have to let it go,” D tries to persuade him.
“Fuck that. Lemme at him!”
“Nope. No can do.” D looks over Dirk’s shoulder at where John is cowering behind Dave. “Kid. Any more in there?” John shakes his head no. “You gonna do this again?” Another no. “Good.” He starts hauling Dirk back into the bedroom. As the door closes they hear a faint, “Jesus fuck. Goddamn mess.”
“You got lucky, kid,” Bro says at he looks over at John. “Alright, bedtime for bonzos.”
“We ain’t bonzos!” Dave argues even as he helps Bro lower the futon and grab the sleeping bags that he and John will use.
“Y’all are bonzos if I say y’all are bonzos and I say y’all are bonzos.”
“But we ain’t tired!” Dave tries to argue through his yawn.
“Don’t care. Not my problem.”
“But Bro-”
“No buts or I’ll hang your butts outta the window.”
That got Dave to shut up. John’s eyes go even wider at the threat. He leans over to Dave. “He won’t really hang us outside, will he?” he whispers fearfully.
“Prolly not. But you never know,” Dave shrugs back at him before getting into his sleeping bag and snuggling down. Still unsure if he is getting pranked back or not, John follows suit, keeping one eye on Bro as he walks around and turns off the lights.
“And don’t think about getting up before noon, ya brats.”
“Night to ya too, Bro.”
“Good night, Bro. Good night, Dave.”
“Night, John.”
Despite all attempts to keep one eye on Bro, John quickly falls asleep.
John only barely breaks the rule when he gets up fifteen minutes until noon to use the bathroom. Over the next hour everyone comes awake. Dirk emerges from the bedroom with a dark glare but no intent to kill. John gets back into his good graces when John lets him help prank Dave with a bowl of frozen cereal. Apparently the prankster had prepared a bowl last night and put it in the freezer so when he pulled it out today, all he has to do is sprinkle a few fresh flakes and pour just enough unfrozen milk on it to keep the secret safe before handing it to Dirk to serve to a sleepy, bleary-eyed Dave.
John and Dirk highfive over Dave’s attempts to break into the block of ice in a hard headed attempt not to submit to the prank.
The pranks continue throughout the week as John is determined to catch all of the Striders at least once. The twins actually turned coat to help John out against their older siblings.
Dave distracts Bro, pulling him away from the computer at his desk, so that John can run in and hit the quick command CTRL + ALT + -> to rotate his screen and put a piece of frosted scotch tape over the eye of the mouse.
All three boys play videogames while keeping an eye out for Bro’s reaction when he sits back down. But they are severely disappointed when within a second he reorients the computer screen and after touching his mouse once he flips it over and peels the tape off. Without saying a word, he gets back to managing his online businesses. John pouts but resolves himself to try harder.
The boys had run out to the local grocery store just around the block to buy ingredients for cookies. They were just as surprised as Bro to find out that they had bowls, measuring cups, and a baking sheet tucked in the back of the cabinets.
“I guess Mom must’ve snuck them in on one of her trips,” D waves Bro’s questioning glance away. “I certainly didn’t buy them. I don’t know if I’ve actually ever turned on the oven.” And with that, the elder Striders stay away from the kitchen to let the boys indulge in whatever baking urge had come over them. They’ll only intervene in case of blood or fire.
No catastrophe strikes all the way from mixing the ingredient together (and throwing in some extra some finely chopped chili peppers) through pulling the batch of cookies out and letting them cool on the stove. John erects a sign saying “Caution Very Hot - Do Not Eat,” before they abandon their work for another stupefying round of movies. They only perk up when D abandons his screenwriting to grab a drink from the kitchen. Not very successfully, the boys surreptitiously watch from from the futon as he glances at the sign. D scoffs at it and decides that the kid is taking after his father, famous for leaving notes around. He puts his hands over the tray to check the temperature but finding them cool, he picks one up and bites into it.
The boys hold their breath to watch his reaction to the hidden spicy flavor, but their anticipation turned to stunned silence as D takes another bite as he walks around the kitchen making himself some apple juice. Before he returns to his work, he grabs three more cookies to stack in the hand not carrying his juice.
As soon as he settle back down at his desk, John jumps up and runs to the kitchen. He grabs a cookie and bites it, sure that the chili’s must not have worked for D to have been so calm about it. But as he chews he can feel his face heating up and by the time he swallows he is nearly crying and lunging for the milk in the refrigerator to the howling laughter of his best friend.
When Bro ducks out for more groceries, John sets up for another prank, one he touts to be fail proof. Neither Dirk nor Dave believe him but they go along just in case. Dirk sits out on the fire escape and watches for Bro’s return as John fills a bowl with water and Dave finds a broom that again Mom must have left behind. As soon as Dirk gives the signal, John stands on the tower of phone books he’s built on a chair in the middle of the room. Dave hands him the bowl of water which John puts against the ceiling and then hands him the broom which he uses to hold the bowl flush just as Bro walks in the front door.
“What kinda shit are y’all gettin’ into now?”
“Oh! It’s a cool magic trick! Wanna help?”
“Not particularly.” Bro moves into the kitchen to drop his bags of groceries off.
“But it will only work with you!”
“Shoulda thought of that before ya got yourself up there.”
“Please, Bro!”
“Jesus, kid. Ain’t fair when you pull out the magic word. What do I hafta do?”
“Just hold this broom.”
Dave and Dirk are stunned as Bro actually takes the broom and keeps the bowl suspended as John scrambles back down and quickly pulls the chair away.
“Haha! Did it!”
“So what’s the magic trick again?”
“It’s not magic; it’s a prank! That’s full of water and if you let it go, it’s going to spill all over you!” John explains with a huge grin on his face. He is so sure that he just bested Bro Strider. The twins are still just staring with dropped jaws.
Bro glances up at the ceiling. It is tall enough that he can’t just reach up there. And the kid made sure to pull away all furniture he could have used for the extra height. Bro levels a cool stare in John’s direction which only brightens his smile. And then he smirks which confuses John.
With a quick motion, Bro tosses the broom away and the bowl drops into his hands without spilling a drop.
John’s jaw drops. Dave and Dirk cheer for their older brother for a moment before they are splashed with the water from the bowl.
“Y’all were in on it too.” He walks forward and ruffles John’s dark hair. “Nice try, kid.”
It’s Dirk’s turn to distract and he pulls D into his room to show him something he is working on while John gets a tin of shoe polish out and grabs D’s signature aviator glasses. Quickly he coats the nose pads with the dark substance. He hides all evidence and returns to hanging out with Dave innocently by the time D comes back out.
It takes a while but eventually D has to head out for something and grabs his shades and car keys with a wave to the boys on the way out.
When he returns sometime later, he tosses his keys at the table and slides his glasses off. Bro glances up from his work and immediately stifles a laugh.
“What was that?” D tilts his head in his direction.
“Nothin’. Absolutely nothin’.”
“Usually when you say that, it’s something.”
“Nope.”
“Guys, do you know what’s up with him?”
The twins and John look over and all three of them burst out laughing.
“What? What is going on?” He turns and stomps threateningly over to Bro. “What the fuck is going on?” Bro just grins up at him. “Fucker.” That just makes him grin more and the kids laugh harder. “There is something on my face, isn’t there?” He catches Dirk’s slight nod. “God damn it.” He heads to the bathroom. They all watch the door and listen to the reaction of him finding two black smears on either side of his nose.
John gets an echo-y slow clap from the bathroom.
With three out of four Striders caught in a prank, John is sure he can finally catch the so far elusive Bro Strider. Especially with this next one, he tells Dave as he finishes off the bottle of water.
“Sure, dude. I believe in you. You are the prankster extraordinaire, the prodigy son of the masterful Egbert line, heir to all of Sassacre’s skills and techniques. Go out and do battle with the Big Bad Bro and prove yourself worthy of the tome that could kill cats if it somehow fell on them. You can do this, man. Can’t let me down now.”
“Dave. Shut the fuck up.”
“Sure, whatever, mess up my stride. I was really going there.”
“You were. You were going. Going fast. Fast to nowhere.”
“Why you gotta diss my style, man?”
“Because that’s what best bros do.”
“You keep saying that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”
“You are such a dork, Dave.”
“You keep saying that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”
“Bluh. Just wish me luck, asshat.”
“Good luck, jerkwad.”
“Ew.”
“Get outta here.”
With a grin John does just that. He pretty much bounces out into the main room and finds Bro reclining on the futon in the middle of exploiting a glitch in a terrible video game. John carefully tucks the water bottle underneath his armpit, making sure it isn’t visible from the front before he moves around into Bro’s line of vision.
“Bro, my neck hurts.”
Bro pauses his game and looks over to the brunette. “How serious on a scale of Joker to Batman?”
“I don’t know... Just when I do this,” John reaches up and puts his head on the top of his head and the other under his chin and makes a twisting motion as he scrunches the empty water bottle between his arm and body. The crunching sound was perfectly timed with his motions.
Bro doesn’t startle. He just calmly stares at John until John starts to fidget a little. “Sounds like you are somewhere between the Penguin and Poison Ivy. You’ll be fine, kid. I’ve heard worse.”
“You have?” John asks, a little disappointed that the prank didn’t work.
“Yea. Check this out.” Bro rolls his neck around his shoulders to the sound of crackling and popping that rivals what John did with the plastic bottle. John’s jaw drops in horror and he slowly backs away from Bro, retreating all the way back to the bedroom.
Bro resumes his game when he hears the door close behind John. He subtly kicks his own empty water bottle farther under the couch instead of under his foot.
“Wait, it’s Thursday!”
“All day long, every seventh day of the week, fifty-two times a year.”
“Dave! Why didn’t you tell me it was Thursday?” John complains as he abandons the game on the TV, letting Dave take the win, to dive for Dave’s laptop sitting on the coffee table.
“Well. It’s the third thursday of the month that happens to land on the twentieth of March during the two thousand and eighth year of our lord and it’s precisely thirty-five minutes past one o’clock post meridian in the central time zone.”
“Shut up, Dave!”
Dave hears the familiar sounds of pesterchum booting up on his screen and leans over to see what John is doing. GhostyTrickster has taken over the program and John is frantically clicking on a highlighted name.
-- ghostyTricker [GT] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --
GT: hi rose!
TT: And here I was worrying that you would stand me up for time spent with your best friend, my dearest brother.
GT: bluh! i didn’t mean to. i’ve had enough of dave’s shit. he doesn’t even let me know what day it is.
TT: The woes of Spring Break. Time is lost when fun is to be had.
GT: time flies when you are having fun?
TT: If you wish to be pedantic.
GT: i’m not pedantic!
“Dave, what does pedantic mean?”
“Are you on a pester date with my sister?”
“Maybe.”
TT: Don’t worry about it, John. I just merely like to change a common turn of phrase.
TT: So how is Houston?
Dave grabs his phone and signs in to his mobile account.
-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --
TG: are you having a pester date with my best friend
TT: Hello Dave.
TT: How are you today?
TG: no
TG: cut the bullshit
TG: are you on a pester date with my best bro who traveled all the way from seattle on his spring break to hang out with me
TT: It is Thursday. We always communicate on Thursdays.
GT: houston is fun.
GT: not that i’m getting out much.
GT: there are videogames and movies and my best friend in the apartment.
GT: why would i need to go out?
TT: Oh, I don’t know. To see the sights. To explore new venues of entertainment. To introduce culture into your life.
TT: And Dave’s.
TT: He needs more culture outside of his brothers.
TG: so it is a date
TG: in a long string of dates
TG: how long have you two been dating
TG: have you contaminated him with cooties
TG: i havent had my annual cootie shot this year
TG: oh god im infected arent i
GT: but i like his brothers!
GT: oh and i’ve almost pranked them all!
TT: Really now?
GT: yep.
GT: got dave with the sponge cake and frozen cereal.
GT: got dirk with alarm clocks.
TT: Oh I bet that was entertaining.
GT: a little dangerous apparently.
GT: he threatened to shish kabob me.
TT: I’m glad he didn’t. I would have been severely upset.
GT: what do you mean by that?
“What does she mean by that?”
“By what?” Dave looks over to catch up on the conversation. “I don’t know.”
TG: and now you are actually hitting on him
TG: hitting on him while i am sitting here right next to him
TG: have you no shame woman
TT: None.
TT: Just that your health and wellbeing is important to me. I like to have friends in one piece.
GT: alright. weird. anyways,
GT: i also got mister d!
TT: The title alone would get his metaphorical goat.
GT: i put shoe polish on his glasses so when he took them off there were dark spots on his face and he looked so ridiculous!
TT: I am impressed.
TT: And what about the last of my wayward brothers?
GT: i haven’t managed to get bro.
GT: yet.
GT: he keeps catching my pranks!
GT: i’ve tried like a dozen things!
GT: but i got one more.
GT: only time will tell...
TT: That sounds ominous.
--turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] --
TG: rose is hitting on john
TT: Okay.
TG: no not okay make her stop
TT: Is she making John uncomfortable?
TG: no
TG: shes making me uncomfortable
TT: And what do you expect me to do about it?
TG: tell her to stop
-- timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --
TT: Dave says to stop hitting on John.
TT: Who says I made the first advance?
GT: it’s going to be great if it works.
GT: it will be my crowning achievement of my spring break.
TT: A worthy goal.
TT: I wish you the best of luck.
TG: shes still talking to him
TT: Well I did my due diligence.
TT: She’s allowed to converse with whoever her heart so desires.
TG: her heart is not supposed to desire my best friend!!!!
TT: Dave is getting more and more upset.
TT: He has resorted to using punctuation.
TT: Oh dear. That is quite a serious predicament.
TT: I wonder if he is jealous.
GT: so how is your week going, rose?
TT: It has been particularly chilly. I cannot wait for my own Spring Break. I think Mother has plans to visit her boys.
TT: Are you jealous, Dave?
TG: what no why would i be jealous just squicked out that some new york cougar is hitting on john
TT: Are you jealous, Dave?
TG: jesus fuck
“Dave, why are you shaking your phone like that?”
“Because the universe apparently hates me.”
TT: I think he’s jealous.
TT: I suppose I should apologize to him.
TT: Dave please forgive my misconduct.
TT: I should have seen.
TT: How can I live with myself?
TG: seen what
TT: I did not mean to encroach upon your man.
TT: That you are in fact deeply in love with John.
TT: I should not have committed such a betrayal against my own blood.
TG: alfhkagjfdhdj
TT: Oh dear. I seem to have invoked a keyboard smash.
TT: I shall immediately tell John that I will not be able to attend our weekly Thursday chats that he arranged in order to keep up steady contact with me as we navigate through the trials and tribulations of grade school.
TG: fuck
TG: you
“Dave. Seriously, are you okay?”
“Just. Fine,” Dave manages between clenched teeth. He hunches down further into the seat as John just shrugs and returns to his computer.
TT: By the way, John. I found that violin and piano piece that we were discussing last week.
GT: really?!
TT: Yes. Here, I’ll send you the file.
-- tentacleTherapist sent a file [iiiserenade.mp3] to ghostyTrickster --
GT: awesome!
GT: i’ll listen to it right now.
“Dave, where are your headphones?”
“In my room. By my music shit. Where else would they be?”
“Cool.”
GT: brb.
John jumps up from the couch and dashes into the room. Dirk wanders by on the way to the kitchen to get some orange soda when he hears the water finally turn off after one of Bro’s epic showers. He glances up as the door opens with a billow of steam.
TT: Say goodbye to your love for the last time, Rose.
TT: Though at this point he might not make it back to his phone.
TT: Oh, he was successful I take it.
TT: Yes.
TT: Abort mission, Dave.
TT: Stop talking to Rose.
TT: John is going to die.
Dave looks up and over at Dirk in confusion and then follows his twin’s line of sight to the bathroom door. His jaw drops, but he doesn’t have time for any other reaction before John emerges from the room with headphones in hand. John glances over and a giant grin blossoms on his face.
Bro stands there just outside the bathroom, his expression completely blank even as he turns his head to find John standing there with the goofiest smile. Only a white towel is wrapped around his waist, not doing much to cover his strife harden muscles. Small drops of water run over his tanned skin, dripping from his hair. His hair is still wet, the normally lofted spikes sagging down with the weight of water. But instead of its usual darkened gold coloration, his hair is a strawberry pink that threatens to resemble cotton candy when it dries.
Both Dave and Dirk are holding their breath, ignoring any pesters from Rose, waiting for his sentence. They have no idea if it would be a swift and painless death or slow drawn out torture. But they are sure that it cannot end happily for John.
“Did it come out well? Is it Pinkie Pie pink? I dun want no half assed salmon color.”
“It’s perfect, Bro,” John tells him.
“Good.” Dirk and Dave collectively gasp as Bro’s hand reaches out but can’t believe it when the touch is just a gently ruffling of hair. They would be dangled off the side of the roof until their underwear ripped if they tried to pull a stunt like that.
When D comes home from whatever work he was doing, he notices Bro’s hair and does a quick head count. Finding all three boys safe and sound he throws a confused look in Bro’s direction.
“I think it suits me. Never thought pink would look so good with my skin tone.”
“How?”
“Kool-aid in the shampoo.”
“That’s brilliant.”
There are a lot of hugs and fist bumps and promises to return and swears that Dave has to come visit when the Striders take John back to the airport at the end of Spring Break. Bro foregoes his usual cap in order to show off his new coloring. John grins brightly every time he looks in his direction. D promises two tickets to the Hollywood premiere of his next movie with declarations that it will be the coolest thing ever.
“It will only be cool if Nic Cage plays in it.”
“I’ll check his schedule, kid. Casting isn’t over.”
Both Dirk and Dave accept bone crushing hugs right outside of security. Dave tries to plot how to get past them to take John all the way to the gate but Bro is keeping too tight of an eye on him.
“Can’t wait to see your ugly face when you come up for Fall Break, Dave.”
“I’m not coming up to visit you. I’m coming up to plot how to kidnap Dad and force him to bake cakes for me for the rest of my life.”
“I see how you are. You love my dad more than me. That hurts, Dave.”
“And apparently you love my sister more than me.”
“True,” John admits with a wistful tilt of his head.
“Oh fucking gross!” Dave knocks John in the shoulder and pushes him towards the security line.
“Fly safe, kid,” Bro bids farewell.
“Thanks, Bro!” John waves as he heads off to get through the TSA maze.
“Oh thank god that is over. And if you fuckers even think of pranking me, I will lock you in a closet with Lil’Cal for the rest of your life.” Both boys pale a little but nod as they head out of the airport and back to their apartment.