Streetlights

John’s friends don’t leave on Saturday. Kanaya gets a huge shock when she calls John down to lunch and instead gets a group of six traipsing tiredly downstairs, pale and hungover.

“Sorry,” John says apologetically, but Kanaya waves it away, bustling around fetching more plates and glasses. Tavros, Sollux, Rufioh, Rose and Equius look slightly overwhelmed by John’s house, now that they’re sober – they hang around awkwardly, looking like they don’t want to besmirch the air by breathing too much.

“Sit down,” Kanaya says bossily, but not unkindly, and all the boys (and Rose) take a chair uneasily. Rose smiles at Kanaya, and starts to ask her all sorts of questions about her day, and how she starting housekeeping for John's family.

After about ten minutes, Kanaya sighs. “John, would you go fetch Jade?”

“Where is she?” John asks.

“Cinema room,” she says, and Equius inhales excitedly. John nods and walks off, Rose and Kanaya resuming conversation, ambling to the cinema room and finding Jade still in her pyjamas, watching some shitty cartoon on TV. John clicks it off, much to Jade’s protest.

“Come to lunch,” John coaxes, and Jade shakes her head.

“Your friends are here,” she says, trying to smile. “I wouldn't want to disturb anything.”

“They’re lovely, I promise,” John says. “Come on, don’t you want to eat?”

“But-“

“But nothing, Jade, come on,” John says, hauling Jade off the sofa and carrying her, laughing and squealing, into the dining room. When he puts Jade down, relatively out of breath (Jade definitely isn't small), Jade crosses his arms and tries to look angry.

“I can walk,” she says, poking her tongue out at him. John grins, ruffling Jade’s hair.

“Come on, sit down,” he says, doing just that himself, next to Tavros. Tavros grins at him, and John half-accidentally brushes his arm against Tavros’s, causing a slight red tint to appear in his tanned cheeks. John hides his smile by turning to look at Jade again, who’s looking at Tavros and John suggestively, as if she knows what’s going on.

“This is Jade,” John says, and Jade waves at everyone, beaming.

“I like your pyjamas,” says Equius. Jade beams at him.

“You like Squiddles?” she asks.

“We all do,” Sollux says. Jade turns back to John.

“I like your friends,” she says decisively, and everyone laughs.
-
Everyone ends up staying the night again, this time with actual mattresses laid out by Kanaya.

(“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming last night?” Kanaya asks tiredly, plumping up a few pillows.

“I didn’t know!” John says. “They arrived at about three in the morning.” Kanaya looks at him disapprovingly, but says nothing else – she knows what he does, and she lets him get on with it. That’s one of the many reasons he loves her.)

“Man, can we move in?” Sollux asks, laying down on his mattress. “This is comfy as fuck.”

“And your cousin is super cute,” Equius says enthusiastically. Equius’s been so taken with Jade that they spent three hours watching The Squddles Show in the cinema room, discussing gardening and various other things. John’s pretty sure they’ve just become best friends.

“In front of other people,” John says ruefully, although he can’t deny that Jade is a wonderful cousin most of the time.

“Whatever,” Rose says. “She’s better a better cousin than my brother.”

“That’s ‘cause Jade isn’t a bully,” Rufioh says. Rose sighs, staring up at the ceiling from her makeshift bed.

“He never used to be like this,” she says dejectedly. “He used to be a brother. We used to do stuff together, watch TV , go out, and now we barely even talk.” She sounds so miserable that Equius shuffles over from his bed and puts an arm around her shoulders.

“Hey,” he says gently. “It’s okay. He’s just going through that dumb I-need-to-be-the-coolest-dickhead -in-school phase that everyone goes through.”

“I want my brother back,” Rose says, and there’s a kind of choked noise that sounds almost like a sob, and John, Rufioh, Tavros and Sollux exchange wide-eyes; they don’t know what to do.

Luckily for them, they’re spared from doing anything by Equius, who calms Rose and leads her quietly out of the room. Everyone else remains silent, listening to Equius and Rose talking in hushed voices in the corridor.

“I’m going to turn in, guys,” Sollux says, clearly uncomfortable at eavesdropping. He still looks a bit green, as well; he didn’t eat much at dinner. “I’m still feeling a bit ropey.”

“Me too,” Rufioh agrees, although his words are half-hidden by a yawn. John turns to look at Tavros expectantly, wondering whether he too will fall asleep.

“I’m not tired,” Tavros says, with a shy smile in John’s direction. John smiles back involuntarily; Tavros’s adorable, that much is undeniable, and pretty fucking gorgeous too, so he can’t not smile back. Plus, it would be rude.

They don’t say anything for a few minutes, waiting for Rufioh and Sollux’s breathing to even out (or in the case of Rufioh, turn into raucous snores).

“Thank you,” Tavros says, after what feels like forever. His voice penetrates the silence (or, thanks to Rufioh, relative silence) that has blanketed them, and it sounds odd for some reason. John probably needs to get his ears tested.

“For what?” John asks. He hasn’t done anything. He didn’t even remember the Ibuprofen, thanks to Dave.

No, not Dave. He doesn’t want to think about Dave. He’s here with his friends, with Tavros, and that’s what he should be focusing on. Not some school bully who intrigues him far too much for it to be considered healthy – or normal.

“Being there. Listening. Not…not judging me, or hating me.” Tavros shrugs, not meeting John’s eyes. John’s gaze strays to Tavros’s sleeve, just one thin layer of material that covers Tavros’s innermost secrets, his conflict and his pain, displayed on his skin, etched into it forever. It’s almost magical what clothes can conceal.

“Of course I wouldn’t judge you or hate you,” John says, as if it’s obvious. “That’s not…that’s not right.”

“Lots of people would," Tavros says quietly.

“I doubt it,” John says. “Why did you tell me before Sollux?”

“I was drunk,” Tavros says. “I do stupid things when I’m drunk.”

“So you regret it?” John asks. Tavros still doesn’t meet his gaze, and John hooks a finger under his chin, lifting it gently so Tavros has to look John in the eye.

“No,” Tavros says. “And that’s scary. It’s not my secret anymore. It’s…I’m not in control.”

“You weren’t in control in the first place,” John says softly. “It was.”

“I know,” Tavros says miserably.

John’s about to reply when he hears a noise, something clattering against his window. He frowns; who the fuck is throwing stones at his window? Unless a bird has just splattered against it.

“Hang on,” he says, getting up and stepping over Sollux and Rufioh’s sleeping forms to reach the window, wrenching the curtains open to see a figure standing in the dark outside.

“Who is it?” Tavros asks, hugging his legs to his chest protectively. John’s heart breaks a little; Tavros’s so perfect, so adorable, but he doesn’t even know it. John would give all he had for Tavros to see himself through John’s eyes – or even better, Sollux's.

“I can’t tell,” John says. “I’d better go down, anyway; I don’t want my window to shatter.” He’s only half-telling the truth when he says he can’t tell – he can’t, but he has a pretty good idea who it could be.

His worst fears are confirmed when he makes his way downstairs (past Equius still comforting a sobbing Rose) and pulls the front door open, a dark figure standing outside wearing an annoying, stupid smirk.

“What do you want?” John demands hotly. The nerve Dave has, turning up at his house in the small hours of the morning and throwing fucking stones at his window. How did Dave even know it’s his window? What was he planning on doing if it was Jade’s, or Kanaya’s, or some random room that no one uses?

“You,” Dave says simply, and John scowls, but steps outside and shuts the door.

“Stop being a dick,” he says. “Go back home. I don’t want you here.”

“You came outside,” Dave points out. “You could have shut the door in my face. You could have stayed inside, nice and cosy with Tavros.” John blanches, and Dave’s shades glint dangerously.

“Nothing’s going on between Tavros and me,” John says. Dave raises an eyebrow, barely visible under the weak orange glow the streetlight is providing, but still there.

“Of course,” he says, stringing out the words, and John feels guiltier than he ever has before.

What is he doing? He’s leading Tavros on, of course he is, and he knows he is, so why isn’t he stopping? He knows Tavros wants Sollux more, Tavros knows he wants Sollux more, so what are they doing? Sollux will get hurt if he finds out, yet for some reason John doesn’t want to stop. John…there’s something about Tavros. John’s not just attracted to him, he’s…well. He doesn’t really know. But it feels deeper than just attraction.

Then there are the ridiculous thoughts, the ones that bubble up when he’s at his drunkest and most emotionally vulnerable, the ones that tell him that yeah, maybe he finds Dave annoying, maybe he hates Dave’s guts, but there is an underlying attraction. Dave is pretty hot, after all, even if he is the biggest prick John’s ever had the displeasure of coming across.

The thoughts that are fucking wrong, John thinks, shoving that unpleasant reminder out of his mind.

“Oh,” Dave says softly. “Conflicted, are we?”

“About what?” John says irritably. “Can you leave me alone? Go home. I have better things to be doing.”

“Like Tavros Nitram?” John flushes. “I thought so.”

“I’m not- Tavros and me- we-“

“Save it,” Dave says, sounding bored. “I came for something else, anyway.”

“What, then, if not to taunt me?” John asks.

“I already told you,” Dave says. “You.”

“What do you want with me?” John asks tiredly. He isn’t in the mood to argue anymore. Thinking about Tavros has just made him feel sick and guilty and empty and he doesn’t really care what Dave wants anymore.

“Come with me,” Dave says, and John rolls his eyes but follows – albeit reluctantly – as Dave leads him out of the driveway and into the street bathed in harsh yellow and orange lights.

“Look up,” Dave says. “What do you see?”

“The sky,” John says. “The moon. Streetlights. What is this, your twisted idea of fun?”

“Streetlights,” Dave says, choosing to ignore John’s last comment. “The moon.”

“I just said that,” John says. “What’s all this about? Are you drunk?”

“Shut up,” Dave says idly. John scowls.

“I’m standing in the middle of a road with you, staring at some streetlights and the fucking moon,” he says. “What’s going on?”

“Can you see the stars?” Dave says.

“Of course not,” John says. “The streetlights are drowning them out.”

“Exactly,” Dave says.

“Exactly what?” John says.

“Sometimes, what seems brighter and closer and easier isn’t as perfect as what’s harder to get, but more beautiful. Sometimes, looking only at the bright thing obscures the beautiful thing. Sometimes, looking at the streetlights obscures the stars.” And now that John’s squinting, now that he can see it properly, he can actually make out some stars, glimmering distantly in the jet black blanket of the sky.

He turns to say something to Dave – he’s not really sure what, just something – but Dave’s gone. There’s no trace that he was ever there, just John staring up at the night sky on his own, staring past the streetlights and looking at the stars twinkling faintly in the distance.

He doesn’t know why Dave told him that, doesn’t know what made Dave decide to share that with him, doesn’t know why Dave wanted to help him, and doesn’t even know exactly what he’s intending for John to do with this information, but suddenly John knows what he has to do.

He traipses back inside, leaving the door open (he figures no one is going to break and enter at this time of night in this obscure corner of the neighbourhood) and quickly rushes up the stairs to his room. Tavros’s still sitting on the floor, but now Equius and Rose are lying down as well, snoring lightly. Tavros turns as John clicks the door open, and John beckons him out wordlessly, leading him downstairs and outside to the same spot Dave took him.

“Look up,” he instructs, and Tavros does so. “What can you see?”

“Not much,” Tavros says. “Orange and yellow glow from the streetlights. The moon, kind of. The sky.”

“Can you see the stars?” Tavros shakes his head.

“There’s too much light from the streetlights for that.”

“Exactly. The streetlights are drowning them out. The streetlights, brighter, closer, easier, are obscuring the stars, further away and harder to reach but much more beautiful, burn brighter and for longer. Sometimes our choices are like the streetlights and the stars, Tavros. Sometimes what might seem easier and glows brighter obstructs our view of what’s beautiful, what’s going to last and what burns brighter.” John pauses. “Can you see the stars now?” Tavros nods slowly, tearing his gaze away to look at John.

“You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?” John says, and Tavros nods again.

“I know. That doesn’t mean the streetlights aren’t helpful, though. They guide you home better than the stars do, shine brighter in your everyday life.”

“It’s not saying you can’t have both,” John says. “Just that you should choose the one you deserve.”

“I’m sorry,” Tavros whispers, and John shakes his head.

“It’s okay,” he says, and Tavros takes a hesitant step forwards, pressing their lips together for the second and last time. John relishes it, kissing back and letting his tongue tangle with Tavros’, wrapping his arms around Tavros’ neck as Tavros wraps his around John’s waist.

And there, under the streetlights and the stars, John feels his heart break for the first time.