Streetlights

The first thing John notices that is out of place is when Tavros doesn’t look at him the next day. In fact, he doesn’t look at anyone, ripping out grass and depositing it back on the ground it had come from. John frowns, but says nothing – he’s probably just stressed about schoolwork or family or something. He pushes it out of his mind.

The next thing John notices is that Sollux doesn’t sit next to Tavros like he usually does. That confuses him a little bit, but Tavros seems to be anticipating this. Maybe they’ve had an argument, a lover’s tiff – John’ll ask Tavros later.

The third thing John notices is Tavros’s going to lessons.

That shouldn’t be out of place, but it is. Tavros’s always saying how he’d rather be happy than have good grades, as getting good grades and going to lessons doesn’t make him happy. He values his personal health more than stupid GCSEs, and privately John agrees. He still drags himself along to a couple of lessons, though – enough for him to get at least As in all his GCSEs – but he doesn’t enjoy them, much like Tavros. So why is Tavros going to lessons?

Lunch is subdued. Rufioh, Equius and Rose seem to have noticed something’s up too, exchanging worried glances every three seconds and making unenthusiastic small talk to try and engage Sollux and Tavros. Sollux’s better (or worse?) than Tavros, talking animatedly when he’s spoken to but lapsing into contemplative, depressive silence when he’s not. It sends shivers down John’s spine, how easily people can lie.

Tavros mumbles something incoherent as he stands up abruptly when the bell signifying the last lesson rings, getting away from the group as soon as he can. Rufioh and Equius exchange perplexed looks, whereas Rose looks toward him in concern. Sollux doesn’t look up from the ground.

John stands up just as abruptly, and without explanation marches after Tavros. He needs to know what’s going on.

He has longer legs so he catches up with Tavros easily enough, spinning him around to face John.

“What’s up?” John asks. Tavros won’t look him in the eye.

“Nothing,” he says, trying to get out of John’s grip, but John holds him there.

“No, Tavros, don’t bullshit me,” he sighs. “You’ve barely said a word to me all day – to any of us.”

“I’m just not feeling well,” Tavros mumbles, and John sighs again.

“Tavros,” he says softly, but he loosens his grip on Tavros’s shoulders and Tavros shakes him off, practically sprinting away. John stares at his retreating figure helplessly. What has he done?
-
John’s actually turned up to music early, thanks to Tavros’s little stunt, so he gets a practice room at the end of the corridor; the one Dave was in yesterday. He feels relatively good about that – Mr Megido knows he’s in here, too, so Dave can’t throw him out. Mr Megido’s the only teacher John’s seen so far that doesn’t take Dave’s shit.

Everything’s running smoothly until halfway through the lesson, when the door to the practice room pushes open. John doesn’t look up from his guitar, assuming it’s just Mr Megido checking up on him again, but then he hears the door close and snaps his head up. Mr Megido doesn’t shut the door.

It’s not Mr Megido.

Dave’s standing there, arms folded, glowering at John.

“This is my practice room,” he says quietly, dangerously.

“Too bad I was here first, isn’t it?” John shoots back.

“Get. Out.”

“Make. Me.” And suddenly John’s guitar is being knocked out of his hands and he’s being shoved roughly against the wall, pinned by Dave’s body. It’s far too close for comfort, and John struggles to keep his breathing under control as he fights back against Dave. He can feel Dave’s body warmth seeping into him through their thin clothes, his muscular arms pinning John’s wrists to the wall…

“Get the fuck off me,” John hisses angrily, writhing under Dave’s grasp. Dave chuckles, holding John’s wrists tighter, so tight it nearly cuts the circulation off.

“Make me,” he says teasingly, eyes ablaze, but John’s not in the mood for his games anymore. He grits his teeth and with one final push manages to dislodge himself from his place against the wall, using Dave’s look of utter surprise to his advantage as he spins them around, catching Dave’s wrists with his hands and pinning them against the wall.

“I think I just did,” John whispers with a smirk. It feels good to one-up Dave for once.

“Amateur move, John,” Dave says, and John shrugs, letting him go. Clearly, he is an amateur, because as soon as he lets Dave go Dave’s back to pinning him to the wall. It’s like a fucking power struggle, John thinks as he fights against Dave’s grasp again.

“What are you getting out of this?” he snarls at Dave. Dave grins at him, not even breaking a sweat as he keeps John held against the wall.

“At worst, a little bit of fun. At best, a practice room and you to fuck off,” Dave shrugs. John shakes his wrist hard enough to get one of Dave’s hands off himself, catching Dave’s wrist in his hand and clenching it tight.

“Even?” he offers. Dave narrows his eyes with a scowl.

“Never,” he hisses, trying to move his hand to catch John’s wrist. John flicks Dave’s hand away deftly, almost casually.

“We’ve got fifteen minutes of school left,” John reasons. Dave’s eyes flick to the clock and then back to John’s face, and he releases his grip on John’s wrists. John pulls them away, nursing the red marks on the skin. Dave steps back, allowing John to get away from the wall and Dave’s body.

“Fuck, you’re so bipo-“ is all John manages to mutter before Dave’s shoving him against the wall again, but this time pinning him there with his hips, with his lips, with his hands roaming every inch of John’s body. His fingertips brush against the sensitive skin of John’s hips and John moans accidentally, opening his mouth for Dave to enter. He tries to push Dave off him but Dave’s stronger, and after a while John gives up trying to struggle and simply goes with it, kissing Dave back. John doesn't know why.

Dave groans lowly into the kiss and something snaps in John, makes John gasp and grind his hips against Dave’s and that’s when he feels that Dave’s hard, hard underneath John’s touch, and wrenches himself away from Dave - as much as he can, anyway - gazing at him.

“What are you doing?” he asks softly, his voice wondrous. “What are you?”

“Dave Strider,” Dave says, just as softly. “Bad news.”

John stares at Dave a while longer, thoughts rushing through his head, jumbled together and not making sense. One is prevalent, though, one that he really does not want or need tumbling through his mind and coursing through his veins; he wants to kiss Dave again.

Almost without realising, John darts forwards and presses their lips together again. Dave moans, and that, that turns John on. As soon as he realises that, though, he breaks away.

Neither of them say anything. Without a word, Dave’s gone.

What the fuck.
-
The bell has gone already; five minutes ago, in fact, and John’s still packing up in a daze. He doesn’t know what’s happened, doesn’t know what the fuck was going through his mind when he kissed Dave back, let alone when he insinuated the kiss. He’s shaken up and, quite frankly, a little bit scared. Dave’s not what he needs, not what he wants, right?

The answer to the latter is inconclusive.

There’s a tentative knock on the practice room door, and John jerks his head up, afraid it might be Dave back to fuck with his emotions.

It’s not; it’s Sollux.

John beckons him in, surprised – they haven’t really spoken much as an exclusive pair, only in group conversations. He likes Sollux well enough, though.

“Can…can we talk?” Sollux looks almost nervous, chewing on his lip, and John nods, surprised. What’s going on?

“Sure,” he says, packing the last of his things into his bag and slinging it to the side. “What’s up?”

“It…it’s about Tavros,” Sollux sighs, carding a hand through his sharp cut hair. John’s heart drops, and he nods, trying to ignore the sudden feelings of guilt that are crashing over him. He’s not even together with Tavros – he established that clearly enough yesterday – so why is he feeling bad? He’s allowed to kiss other people, allowed to kiss Dave.

“What about Tavros?” John asks. Sollux bites his lip again, as if he’s conflicted about telling John.

“Do you want to sit down? It’s kind of…kind of a long story,” he says, and John nods, drawing up a chair and gesturing for Sollux to do the same.

“Tavros and I have known each other for years,” Sollux says. “I figured out I was gay when I started having feelings towards Tavros about four or five years ago. According to Equius, Tavros returns – or returned - those feelings, and for years we had a flirtatious friendship going on. Never anything more, mind, but I was content with that, with knowing that he was kind of mine, in that way. Then you showed up.” John can’t look Sollux in the eyes. He feels absolutely terrible. He knew it would be like that, yet he still let Tavros and him happen – still insinuated things between them. He was the one who initiated their first kiss, after all.

“I don’t blame you, really – Tavros was always going to get bored, always going to move on from me. I’m not much, really, not funny, not clever, not good-looking…nothing that you are. It was inevitable, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.” John tries to apologise, say something, but Sollux waves his apology away. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault, it’s mine, for not being good enough. I’ve never been good enough for anyone, so I don’t know why it would be any different for Tavros. Anyway, I saw you two in the corridor yesterday. That’s when I really realised there was something going on, something more than I could explain – or Tavros, apparently. We had a fight last night. He called me, asking if I wanted to come over, and he sounded kind of subdued. Naturally, I went over, and he told me something had happened with you. I told him what I’d seen yesterday, and he explained that nothing had been going on – you’d just been comforting him, apparently. I asked why he’d needed comforting and that’s when he closed up, asking me to leave. I got upset – understandably, I think, because Tavros’s been my best friend for years and suddenly he’s telling you things and not me. We had a bit of a yelling match and then I left, and we haven’t spoken since.” He finishes with a shrug. “I just thought you ought to know what’s up with him.”

John’s heart is aching, breaking at the sight of this insecure, honest, decent boy in front of him. John’s hurt him through his own selfish behaviour, leading Tavros on and hurting him too. He’s broken a friendship, broken a potential relationship, all because he was too self-centred to stop what he was doing.

“I’m sorry,” he says, when he finds his voice again. Sollux makes to speak again, but John presses on. “I’ve got some explaining of my own to do, I think. Just listen.” There’s a moment where John thinks Sollux’s going to say something, or maybe even leave, but then he nods tightly.

"Tavros told me something very private the night all of you slept over. He also explained to me why he didn’t want to tell you; because you mean more to him than I do, and he was less afraid of losing me than he was of losing you. I did something stupid after he told me that – I kissed him. I’m not sure why; maybe I was trying to make himself feel better, or maybe I was trying to make myself feel better, but it happened. We flirted a lot the next day, as you probably noticed, although it wasn’t intentional. When all of you went to sleep, we spoke for a few minutes but then Dave turned up outside.” Sollux tenses at the mention of Dave’s name. John frowns but ploughs on – no one else has flinched like that at merely the sound of his name.

“I spoke to Dave. I didn’t know what he wanted, but he didn’t do anything. He didn’t even say anything rude. He just wanted to talk. He took me into the street, and told me to look up, asked me what I saw. I told him what I thought was obvious – the streetlights, and the moon. He pointed out that I could see the streetlights, not the stars – the streetlights, which were brighter, closer, easier to get. He told me that they drowned out the stars. I looked harder, past the streetlights and realised that he was right. I could see the stars, faintly in the distance, yeah, but they were still there. And I realised what I had to do when I turned around to speak to Dave and he had gone. So I got Tavros out and explained the same thing to him – the streetlights drowned out the beauty of the stars – and he knew. He realised what it means – I was his streetlight, and you were his stars. We kissed once more, under the streetlights and the stars, and I thought that was the end of that. But yesterday I…” he sighs, breaking off.

“I had a fight with Dave – he didn’t hurt me, don’t worry – but for some reason he kissed me at the end of it.” He omits the fact Dave did the same today. Except today he liked it. “Tavros saw us kissing, and it upset him. I don’t exactly know why, but I know it did. I reminded him that he had to look for the stars, not the streetlight, and he…he said, ‘What if I want the streetlight?’. I said no, stars. That’s when we hugged. He does…he does want you more, Sollux, he’s just conflicted. And all that confusion, all the confusion, that was my fault. And I’m…God, I’m so sorry Sollux.”

“Well,” Sollux says. “I guess we’re both in our own states of confusion, then.” John laughs hollowly.

“Yeah,” he says. “Except yours is my fault.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Sollux says. “It was inevitable. I guess I’m just lucky it happened with someone who set him straight.”

“It was Dave,” he says. “Dave pointed it out.”

And suddenly he realises.

Streetlights and stars has a double meaning.