Streetlights

When John wakes up the next morning, it’s to a pair of violet eyes peering at him curiously.

“Hello,” the owner of the eyes says, and John blinks, opening his eyes again to see Rose standing above him. “What are you doing in my house? More to the point, what are you doing in my brother’s room?”

“Long story,” John mutters, struggling upwards and supporting himself on his elbows, rubbing his eyes blearily. “Where’s Dave?”

“Don't know,” Rose shrugs, a knowing smile on her face. “Do you want breakfast?”

“Nah, I’m alright,” John says, not wanting to impose. “What time is it?”

“Almost time for school,” Rose says. “Do you want to get your stuff before we go?”

“No,” John says. His dad will still be home – and most likely be up; he probably has another plane to catch, another country to fuck off to. Good riddance.

“Okay,” Rose nods. “Come on, then.”

“It’s like, eight o’clock,” John moans.

“It takes about half an hour to walk there,” Rose says, throwing him an odd look.

“It takes me five,” John mutters.

“Well, not all of us have private jets,” Rose says, rolling her eyes.

“Where do you think I’d keep a private jet?” John snorts, rolling off the bed. “I cut through other people’s gardens and shit.” Rose stares at him for a moment before grinning.

“You’re a genius,” she says, unshouldering her schoolbag and flopping down on the bed next to John for another twenty blissful minutes of freedom.
-
John doesn’t see Dave all day, much as he looks out for him. He goes to Music, but Dave’s not there. Rose just shrugs it off – he’s probably off with Cronus and Eridan, she says – but John still finds himself checking corridors and classrooms almost absent-mindedly for Dave.

“Are you okay?” Rufioh says, when John zones out once again, gaze following someone who looks a little like Dave as they cross the grass.

“What? Oh, uh, yeah,” John says unconvincingly, snapping himself out of the trance-like state he’s in. Rufioh throws him another curious look, but says no more of it. Tavros, however, frowns at him, and John knows he’s in for a grilling later. Great. Why can’t he be a convincing liar? Of all the skills he had to not get, it had to be one of the most valuable.

“Anyway, what’s happening tonight?” Equius says, drawing attention away from John, which he’s thankful for.

“I’m free,” Tavros offers, and the rest of the group murmur and nod in turn. “Right, so where?”

“John’s place is the only place big enough,” Rose says, directing a glance in John’s direction.

“My dad might still be home…” John says, trailing off. Everyone looks so disappointed that John sighs, reconsidering. “Alright, fuck him, you can come. Bring your own alcohol, though.”

His dad can suck dick.
-
Everyone’s at John’s house, crowded into his bedroom, the stench of alcohol permeating the air and intoxicating everyone even more.

“I wanna go to…to…” Rufioh frowns, pouting a little as he tries to think of the word. His face brightens as he manages to extract it from his alcohol-befuddled brain. “Park!”

“There…there’s no park h-here, Rufioh,” Equius hiccups.

“Aw,” Rufioh says, and he looks so dejected that John’s drunken heart aches a little. People always look cuter when they’re drunk. Or maybe it’s when John’s drunk; he can’t really tell.

“John’s room is nice,” Rose says. “Why do do- you do- wanna you-“ she looks frustrated, unable to finish her sentence because of how drunk she is, settling for another swig from her bottle instead.

“You guys suck at holding your drink,” Tavros slurs, resting his head on a drunken Sollux’s shoulder. “Me- me and John are great.”

“Great at being c-cu-“ but Rufioh never finishes his word because he’s out, keeling backwards and snoring loudly into the silence of the room.

“Why do they all pass out at the same time?” John asks in wonder as Rose too zones out, followed shortly by Equius and Sollux. “Is- is there something in the drink?”

“Something in their systems,” Tavros shrugs. “I dunno.”

“Hmm,” John says, leaning his forehead against the cool metal of his bed. “Yeah.” They sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, before Tavros speaks.

“You and Dave?” he asks. John closes his eyes, not moving from his current position, facing away from Tavros. Cowardly, yes, but he’s never denied that he is a coward.

“What about us?” John mumbles.

“You…Dave?” Tavros asks quietly, sounding half-incredulous and half-hurt. John sighs.

“Not my fault,” he says. “Didn’t choose it.”

“But…he’s not even nice,” Tavros says, frustrated. “You could have picked Equius. Or Rufioh. Or even Rose. But Dave?”

“I don’t know,” John says. “Something…something about him.” He shrugs. “You have Sollux. Why do you care?” he asks softly, almost as an afterthought.

Almost.

“Because I still care about you,” Tavros says. “Just because…just because Sollux, doesn’t mean I can’t still want you. Or need you. Fuck, I don’t even know what to do. Why is everything so confusing?” John barks out a short, sharp laugh. Confusing. Tavros knows nothing about confusing.

“You think that’s confusing,” John says. “I have that and bipolar Dave. How- how do you think I feel?”

“You chose Dave,” Tavros says, and John finally lifts his head to look at him.

“I didn’t choose Dave,” he says quietly. “I would never choose that. I wouldn’t- wouldn’t choose that for anyone. It hurts to want him. I don’t even know if I want him. I don’t want to want him. I don’t know who to want, what to feel, nothing. I want you, I want Dave, I can’t have you, I don’t want Dave…” he trails off, letting his head hit the bedpost again.

“No,” Tavros says soothingly, inching closer to John and twining their fingers together, resting their conjoined hands on John’s knee. “I know.”

“I don’t know what to do, Tavros,” John says, but it comes out more choked than he was hoping for.

“Do what your heart is telling you,” Tavros murmurs.

“I don’t know what my heart is telling me.”

“Then do what I tell you,” Tavros says. “Close enough, right?”

And he’s joking, but John thinks he might be right.
-
John’s starting to get way too good at holding his alcohol, waking up in the morning without the slightest hint of what had gone on the night before. Tavros seems to be the same, waking without a complaint of a headache or stomach ache or general sick feeling.

“You know you get like this when you drink whiskey,” Tavros scolds his older brother. “Why’d’you still do it?”

“Why don’t you stop me?” Rufioh moans, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching his stomach.

“I’m never drinking again,” Equius groans from the bed next to Rufioh’s, curled up in a ball and holding his head in his hands as if he’s scared it’ll fall apart otherwise.

“Until tomorrow,” Tavros says under his breath, still fussing over Rufioh.

“Fuck, I can’t remember a thing from last night,” Rose says, struggling to get herself up on her elbows and wincing as a sharp, stabbing pain hits her head, making it throb painfully.

“That’s because you were out for most of it,” John says, leaning over from his bed (higher than the others, owing to him actually having a bedframe rather than just a mattress on the floor) and gazing at Rose as condescendingly as he can manage. Rose scowls at him, lying back down and closing her eyes.

“Paracetamol,” Equius moans. Tavros throws John a look, still nursing his brother – get some – and John sighs dramatically, swinging his legs out of bed and almost hitting Rose in the face.

“Excuse you,” Rose begins, but John just steps out of her and ambles out of the door, making his way downstairs.

His path is blocked by his father, though.

“What’s that ruckus coming from your room, Johnny?” he asks disapprovingly.

“My friends,” John says, trying to edge around his father. His father’s having none of it, however, blocking his way every time he tries to get past.

“Why didn’t I know they were here?” he asks.

“You didn’t bother to ask,” John says with a shrug. “I need to buy some paracetamol; can I get past?”

“Paracetamol?” John’s father asks with an eyebrow raised suspiciously. “What for?”

“We all got shitfaced last night,” John says in a tired voice, ignoring the way his father draws in a sharp breath at the curse word he uses. “Only Tavros and I can handle our drink. Unless you want to take this up with grandma, I suggest you move.”

“You’re lucky I have to leave now,” John’s father says. “Otherwise I’d be having words with your friends.”

“I’ll be sure to let them know what an honour they’ve missed out on,” John assures him, ducking under his arm and scarpering down the stairs, not hearing whatever his father yells after him, muffling it with a slam of the front door.

Fuck, his dad always gets him angry, even when he does nothing.

He’s fuming so much that he doesn’t even realise he’s in the shop until he spots a familiar figure in front of him at the counter. He quickly grabs some Nurofen from a nearby shelf and queues up behind him, half-praying Dave will see him and half-praying he’ll leave without a word.

“Thank you,” Dave says to the cashier, spinning around to leave – and coming face to face with John. The look of surprise on his face is palpable, and would be funny if John wasn’t so fucking angry right now. John pushes past him and slams the Nurofen down on the counter. The frightened cashier rings it up for him without even asking him for proof of age – no doubt he thinks John in his black hoodie and black skinnies is going to stab him for not letting him have some paracetamol. Idiot.

“Someone’s angry,” Dave says in an amused tone when John stomps past him out of the shop.

“Don’t try it,” John says warningly. He’s not in the mood for Dave’s games.

“I wasn’t going to,” Dave says innocently, in a tone that suggests that he totally was going to try it. “I just wondered how my sister’s doing, but that tells me all I need to know.” He nods at the box of Nurofen that John’s practically crushing with how hard he’s holding it. He relinquishes his grip a little, relaxing the rest of his tense muscles and slows down enough for Dave to catch up with him.

“Sorry,” John says, breathing out a huge sigh to calm himself down. “Yeah, Rose’s shit at handling alcohol.”

“You guys are a bad influence,” Dave says, shaking his head. John snorts.

“As if you never got her drunk before,” he says, and Dave remains silent. “Are you seriously telling me that you’ve never given Rose alcohol before? Come off it; she told me you go off drinking with Cronus and Eridan all the time.”

“I’ve never let her have a drop of alcohol,” Dave says calmly. “I don’t want her to end up like me.” John immediately feels guilty. He’s been the one providing Rose with a way to drink.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Sorry, I didn’t realise.” Dave waves his apology away as they start down the road again.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he says dismissively. “She can make her own decisions. I’m not gonna deny her what she wants.” They continue in silence for a while, drawing nearer and nearer to John’s house until they’re right outside. John turns to face Dave, biting his lip as he considers what he’s going to say next.

“You can…y’know, join us,” he offers. Dave shakes his head.

“I don’t think I’d be welcome with your friends,” he says gently. John nods, trying not to look too disappointed – he’s not entirely sure why he thought Dave was going to agree, anyway.

“Okay,” he says, and he makes to turn away, but Dave catches his wrist, spinning him back around to face Dave. John gazes at him in confusion for a few seconds, Dave’s eyes searching his own, before Dave presses his lips to John's in a quick, chaste kiss.

“Bye,” he says.

“Bye,” John says, dazed. Dave kisses him once more, letting go of his wrist and smiling before turning away and walking back up the road to his house. And that’s when John realises - that’s the first time he’s seen Dave genuinely smile.

Eyes behind shades can hide a lot.